His mark, her fate

Isla’s POV

The large ballroom towered in front of me, its glittering chandeliers casting gold light through the windows. Different types of luxury cars I had only seen in a movie pulling up behind me.

Diamonds dripped from the wrists and throats of women walking past me, each one of them dressed in gowns that looked like they belonged in a museum, not human skin.

And me?

I just stood there, adjusting a trembling hand down the cheap dress I wore tonight, the silk protesting against the strain of the night. It was a little too short, the satin a little too fake.

Why did you have to wear this cheap dress to this type of event, Isla? Just make sure you don’t look like prey. Don’t look like a prey tonight.

One wrong mistake and I would find myself in bed with one of these perverts who would do anything for a tight pu**y.

I murmured to myself as I handed over my invitation card to one of the guards for the event and forced my chin up. He scanned from head to toe…. Trying to fake a polite smile as if people like me belonged here.

But I could still catch the twitch at the corner of his mouth. This is your chance, Isla. Smile. Don’t mess this up. I exhaled, stepping inside the grand ballroom that was alive with the kind of luxury I’d only seen on TV. Champagne flowed like water, and violins played from the corner.

Dangerous murmurs and laughter among clusters of men in tailored suits, every one of their gazes on me sharp as glass. “Make connections, Isla. One conversation tonight could change your future.” Professor Calloway’s words echoed in my head.

Future. That word tasted more like desperation in my mouth. A year's worth of tuition and rent clung to my shoulders, I couldn’t afford to mess this up tonight.

I put on my brightest smile, gripping my cheap clutch bag like it was worth something, and began to weave through the crowd.

My eyes were looking for any familiar face that I could recognize from the lists I had researched obviously online.

But instead of names and faces, I felt eyes everywhere. Men with cigar-stained fingers and expensive watches looking at me like I was a lamb that had wandered into a pack of wolves.

I tugged at the neckline of my dress, praying the heat flushing down my cheeks wasn’t visible. Then the air shifted.

It wasn’t just me. The entire room felt it as a ripple of silence spread like a wave through the crowd. Glasses lowered, heads turning while whispers grew even louder. Sharper this time, slicing through the air.

And then I saw him.

He didn’t walk, he commanded. Every step as he made his way into the ballroom drawing the air tighter around him, bending the room to his control.

The black suit he wore wasn't just tailored…it was sculpted to match perfectly with his physique, his hugging shoulders broad enough to block the light.

I should have looked away. I should have joined the others in their hushed whispers. But my eyes betrayed me even more, lingering on the sharp line of his jaw, the way his lips curved into the faintest smirk. Like he knew every secret in this room.

Who is he?

I didn’t know him. Yet something about the way he moved—confident, dangerous drew me even more to him. The longer I stared, the harder it became to breathe. As if every nerve in my body was aware of him, even across the ballroom.

The strangest, most terrifying part?

I wanted him to notice me.

I wanted him to look at me as if I were the only reason he was here tonight. But there was no chance for me tonight. Ladies gasped and parted their lips in shock as he strode past them.

As if they were willing to give up everything just to have a one-night stand with him, just for him to notice or even spare them a glance.

He moved through the crowd as if the ground itself bent to his will. His dark hair was slicked back with an effortless arrogance.

God!! He is so damn handsome.

Look away, Isla. This type of man would never even look at you. I told myself, but those eyes of his….ice-grey, sweeping the room with quiet command.

I swallowed hard, forcing my gaze away. I couldn’t be one of those girls… the ones whose jaws dropped and eyes went dreamy anytime they saw a handsome and charming man.

His eyes caught mine in an instant and I turned, reminding myself about the reason why I was here in the first place.

Focus, Isla. Find an investor. A sponsor. Anyone but…

My heel snagged on the carpet before I could finish the words. I stumbled forward, the stem of my glass slipping from my fingers. Red wine lifted, a glittery showcase in the chandelier light, before splattering across a wall of black clothing.

Broad shoulders. Perfectly cut suit.

Oh ... oh my god. It was him.

The stranger l had been admiring for the past minutes. The sound of my gasp punched the silence first, the murmurs sliced through, quick and sharp.

Heat crawled up my neck as I watched the stain splatter across his chest, bleeding against fabric worth more than my tuition fee for a year. I froze, parting my lips to say something before he unleashes his fury on me.

But then he looked at me.

Those grey eyes, sharp as a blade, locked angrily onto mine. The weight of his stare pinning me where I stood, stealing every word, every apology, and scrap of air from my lungs.

Oh God.

What the hell have you done, Isla?