When Adrian returned to the room, she was still sitting by the window.
"Waiting for someone?"
Isabel had made up her mind to ignore him.
Adrian didn't seem to care. After taking a shower, he lifted her onto the bed, ignoring her scratching and clawing like a cornered cat, and held her tightly in his arms.
"If you don't want to sleep, we could always do something else."
Isabel froze.
It was like the man was possessed.
She used to dream of sharing a bed with him, of falling asleep in his arms.
But he had barely ever slept in the bed at Halcyon Hills Residence.
Even when he did come home, she had always slept in the guest room.
She couldn't blame anyone but herself.
She had brought this upon herself, arriving at this point.
...
Julian and his group landed at the airport and headed straight for the Grey Zone without a moment's rest.
At that moment, Isabel was just coming downstairs for breakfast.
She stopped in her tracks when she saw the person coming out of the kitchen.
"You..."
She wanted to ask what Martha was doing here, but the answer was obvious. This was Adrian's doing. There was no need to ask.
If she had known, she wouldn't have let Martha go on vacation.
But Martha was in her fifties. Work was important, but she deserved to enjoy her life too.
"Isabel." Martha walked over, about to say something, but swallowed her words when she saw Adrian following behind.
"Address her as Mrs. Blackwell," Adrian said, his voice deep.
Isabel retorted, "Don't listen to him. Just call me Isabel. I'm the one who pays your salary."


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