A flood of humiliation and rage surged through me. It had always stung knowing I was just a stand-in for someone else in Isaac’s eyes. But now, recognizing I’d been deliberately molded to resemble her, his true desire, shattered something much more profound within me.
Under the satisfaction gleaming in her eyes, my fragile composure began to crumble. My wolf stirred restlessly, sensing the chaos in my emotions. Unable to stay in the same space with her any longer, I turned on my heel and rushed out.
Back in the private dining room, the genuine warmth of my colleagues gradually softened the frost that had taken over my veins. Their laughter, supportive words, and cheerful presence helped dull the sting left by Candice’s venomous remark. I almost managed to set the encounter aside—until the door burst open with a jarring bang.
Isaac stood in the doorway, his gaze sweeping across the room until it landed squarely on me. For a heartbeat, he remained frozen, face twisted in a mix of smoldering anger and restraint. He clenched his fists tightly before barking my name with venom, motioning for me to follow him into the hallway.
Startled, I followed him into the dim corridor, only to be met with a stinging slap that landed sharply across my cheek.
It was the first time he had ever struck me.
Shock rendered me motionless. I stared at him, eyes wide, heart throbbing with pain. There was no remorse in his expression—just fury.
"Why did you shove Candice?" he hissed. "You knew she had a sprained ankle! I told you I’d explain everything once we got back, but you couldn’t wait, could you?"
His accusations cut deeper than the slap.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Candice approaching with an exaggerated limp. Her blouse was wrinkled, a faint stain on her shoulder, her steps slow and deliberate. As I opened my mouth to protest, she let out a theatrical gasp and tumbled forward.
Isaac rushed past me without hesitation, gathering her into his arms with gentle concern. His voice was tender, his touch soft—so unlike the cold blow he had just delivered to me.
"I told you I’d bring her over to say sorry," he murmured, brushing her hair back. "Why did you leave the room?"
Candice shook her head, her eyes glistening with tears. "It’s really not important. She didn’t mean it. Please don’t be angry with her," she said, voice trembling with faux kindness.