The stark fluorescent lights of the hospital corridor offered no comfort.

Isabella felt utterly alone.

Eleanor was her last living relative.

Losing her was not an option.

The bonus from the Oakridge Industries deal was her only hope.

She had to get it.

No matter what Ethan decided.

She wiped her tears.

Took a steadying breath.

Then, she called Alexander King.

Her voice was strained. "Mr. King, do you have a moment? I'd like to discuss the project further."

The voice that answered was not the professional man she knew.

It was slurred and lecherous.

"Aha! Another lovely lady wanting to make a deal. Come to the Midnight Lounge. Room 317. Impress us here, and the contract is yours. Hahaha!"

Crude laughter echoed down the line.

It made her skin crawl.

A cold dread settled in her stomach.

She had no other choice.

"I'll be there shortly," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

The night air was biting as she left the hospital.

Her hair whipped across her face.

Time was critical.

A taxi was too expensive.

The bus would take too long.

The subway was her only option.

The car was nearly empty at this hour.

She found a seat and sank into it.

A moment of relief.

But then she felt it.

Eyes on her.

Curious glances from other passengers.

Some seemed intentional.

Others accidental.

She touched her face, wondering if something was wrong.

A young woman's voice broke the silence. "Excuse me, where did you get that blazer? It's gorgeous. And looks expensive."

Isabella froze.

She had forgotten.

She was still wearing Ethan's cashmere blazer.

Luxurious black fabric.

Subtle and elegant.

Her first instinct was to take it off.

But then what?

Carry it?

Risk losing it?

It looked far too expensive to lose.

She forced a weak smile. "I... I don't actually know. It's not mine."

The girl's eyes lit up with understanding.

A gossipy smile played on her lips.

"Oh! Did your boyfriend give it to you? To keep you warm?"

She sighed dreamily. "He must really adore you. Doesn't it feel like a hug from him?"

The words were a knife to Isabella's heart.

A hug?

Once, perhaps.

Now it just felt like a cage.

If Ethan adored her, why was he with Sophia?

She opened her mouth to reply.

To correct the girl's romantic fantasy.

But the words wouldn't come.

Thankfully, the subway screeched to a halt at her stop.

She fled the car without another word.

The Midnight Lounge assaulted her senses.

Deafening music.

Strobing lights.

The thick smell of cheap perfume and cheaper alcohol.

She pushed through the crowd.

Her heart hammered against her ribs.

Room 317.

She stopped before the door.

Took one last deep breath.

And stepped into the unknown.