The Surrogate He Discarded

Kristoff slowly straightened, making no effort to hide the faint amusement in his eyes.

Across the room, Isobel had already succumbed to exhaustion. Just like Leon, she had fought sleep for as long as she could, but her heavy eyelids had finally betrayed her. She was fast asleep, her breathing soft and even.

Kristoff glanced at her and lowered his voice.

He didn’t want to wake her.

Without another word, he stepped away from the bed and walked toward Morgan.

”I just put her to sleep,” he said casually, lifting an eyebrow.

Morgan barely acknowledged him.

His eyes remained fixed on Isobel.

He walked past Kristoff and stopped beside his sister’s bed, his expression softening as he watched her sleep. For a long moment, he simply stood there, silently keeping watch over her.

Kristoff studied him for a moment before turning toward the door.

”I’m going out for a bit.”

Morgan finally glanced in his direction.

But before he could ask where he was going, Kristoff was already walking away.

The door clicked shut behind him.

Morgan’s eyes returned to Isobel.

Something about the way Kristoff had looked at her before leaving nagged at him.

He couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

But he had a feeling there was much more between those two than either of them was willing to admit.

...

Meanwhile, several blocks away from Aioryx Tower, in the penthouse of the newly inaugurated building, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the glittering city below.

A man dressed in a perfectly tailored charcoal-gray suit sat behind a massive desk, listening intently as his subordinate delivered the latest report.

”Boss, more than ten people were injured when the scaffolding collapsed.”

”I already know that.” His voice was calm, almost indifferent. ”Tell me something I don’t know. What about Kristoff Dalton?”

The subordinate hesitated for a fraction of a second.

”He was attacked at the hospital.”

The man’s fingers stopped tapping against the desk.

”Is it our men?”

”Yes. But he wasn’t injured.”

”Why?”

”He was shielded by a woman.”

A woman?

For the first time, a flicker of interest crossed the man’s otherwise unreadable face.

”Now, this gets interesting,” he murmured.

He picked up the half-smoked cigarette resting between his fingers but didn’t bring it to his lips. Instead, he slowly turned it between his fingers, his attention fixed on the man standing before him.

”Who is she?”

The subordinate lowered his gaze briefly before answering.

”Isobel Lancey.”

The cigarette stopped turning.

For several seconds, the room fell completely silent.

Then the man’s lips curved into the faintest smile.

”Isobel Lancey...”

He repeated the name slowly, as though committing it to memory.

”So,” he murmured, leaning back in his chair, ”that’s the woman who stepped between Kristoff Dalton and a knife.”

”Yes, Boss.”

The subordinate gave a respectful nod.

The man leaned back in his chair, his fingers resting thoughtfully against the armrest.

”What a brave woman,” he murmured, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

”Get me everything you can find on Isobel Lancey. I want to know who she is, where she came from, and why was she willing to put herself in danger for Kristoff Dalton.”

”Yes, Boss.”

The subordinate turned to leave, but paused at the door.

”There’s one more thing, Boss.”

The man looked up.

”A woman named Charlotte Harris called earlier. She specifically asked to see you.”

”Charlotte Harris...”

The name lingered in the air.

For a moment, the man said nothing. He leaned back and closed his eyes, searching his memory.

Then he remembered.

A slow, cunning smile spread across his face.

Kristoff Dalton’s fiancée.

Now, that was interesting.

”Did you arrange a meeting with her?”

”Yes, Boss. She’s waiting.”

The man’s smile deepened.

”Good.”

He reached for the half-smoked cigarette on his desk and placed it in between his lips without lighting it.

”Let’s see what Kristoff Dalton’s fiancée is up to.”

There was a dangerous amusement in his voice.

After all, a woman like Charlotte Harris wouldn’t come looking for him without a reason.

”Boss, there’s a rumor that Kristoff Dalton has broken off his engagement with Charlotte Harris.”

The man paused.

Then a low chuckle escaped him.

”Has he?”

There was amusement in his voice, but his expression remained unreadable.

”That damned bastard,” he murmured. ”The man has everything. Money. Power. A business empire people would kill to possess.”

He leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping slowly against the armrest.

”And apparently, women are falling into his lap too.”

The subordinate allowed himself a faint smile as he walked back toward the man.

”Charlotte Harris is hardly an ordinary woman, Boss. She’s one of the most sought-after models in the country.”

”Is she that beautiful?”

”Very.”

The man raised an eyebrow.

”Very?”

The subordinate hesitated.

”Beautiful enough to have men lining up just to take her out to dinner.”

A quiet laugh escaped the man.

”And Dalton still walked away?”

”Apparently.”

”Interesting.”

His eyes narrowed slightly.

”Then either Kristoff has gone insane...”

He paused.

”...or there’s someone else.”

The subordinate’s expression shifted.

”There might be.”

That caught his attention.

”It couldn’t be...”

The man’s fingers stopped tapping.

”Isobel Lancey”

He spoke the name slowly.

Then he looked up.

”Show me her photos.”

The subordinate immediately opened his tablet and brought up a photograph taken during the conference.

It was a close-up of Isobel, Kristoff and Charlotte.

The man glanced at the screen.

And went completely still.

For the first time that evening, the amusement disappeared from his face.

His eyes lingered on the photograph.

She wasn’t dressed like Charlotte Harris. There was no designer gown, no carefully crafted image, no polished beauty designed for magazine covers.

She simply looked... beautiful.

Natural. Almost disarmingly so.

The man’s lips curved into a slow, knowing smile.

”Well.”

He leaned closer to the screen.

”I think I understand.”

The subordinate frowned.

”Understand what, Boss?”

The man finally looked away from the photograph.

”If I were Kristoff Dalton...”

He let the sentence hang for a moment.

Then his smile widened.

”I would have broken up with Charlotte too.”

The subordinate stared at him.

The man gave a quiet laugh, but there was something strange in his eyes now—something far more calculating than admiration.

”Find out everything about Isobel Lancey.”

He closed the laptop with a soft click.

”Everything.”

Then, after a beat, he added quietly,

”I have a feeling that woman is going to make things very interesting.”