The Heiress’s Contract Marriage With Her Enemy

Chapter sixteen: To Know Your Enemy

Isabelle didn't trust Simon yet…

He was strange, like someone who wore too many masks. But what caught her attention even more was Reign's reaction to him. 

The way Reign punched him, the way his jaw clenched, the way his eyes darkened. That wasn't nothing. That wasn't casual. That was deep hate. And Isabelle never missed those kinds of details.

She sat at her desk in her room, the twins finally asleep in the next room. The paper Simon had left on Aron's pocket lay beside her, untouched, at least for now.

She focused her mind…

'This isn't about Reign. This isn't about Simon. This is about what's mine. What Charlotte, my family and I built. What I need to save.'

Munro Tech had been her family's pride. Phones. Screens. Devices that connected people and made them feel like they were part of something. 

But when James Munro was arrested and Charlotte died, the company had crumbled. 

Shares dropped. Board members fled. Investors disappeared like rats off a burning ship.

And now Isabelle wanted it back.

Isabelle opened her laptop, biting the inside of her cheek as her fingers danced over the keys. She had already reached out to three investors earlier in the week, ones that hadn't fully cut ties. 

Her pitch was strong, her words seemed always knowing what and when to say the right things. Isabelle had always known how to persuade.

One of the emails pinged back and she opened it.

"We're open to discuss. Meet us Friday at 2pm."

A second pinged.

"Heard of the scandal, but if you're serious, I'm listening. Send the numbers."

She took a deep breath, relief started washing over her shoulders for a moment.

'Still got it,' she thought.

But just as she leaned back, her eyes drifted to the folded paper.

She stared at it.

"I can help you find Charlotte's killer."

His words weren't easy to ignore. He had said it without blinking. Left it without fear. 

And he wasn't stupid, Isabelle had noticed it in his voice, in his eyes, in the way he acted all laid-back until he wasn't. 

There was something strange and interesting about Simon. Something like he was better at calculating than Reign himself.

And something told her… he knew more than he let on.

Her fingers moved almost on their own as she picked up her phone and texted the number.

ISABELLE: Who are you really?

The typing dots appeared.

Then a reply came.

SIMON: Someone who's not your enemy. Meet me. 1419 Stoneview. Come alone.

Isabelle hesitated, looked over at the twins' door, and quietly got up. She walked in, kissed both Aron and Aurora on their foreheads. 

They were breathing softly, dreaming, safe. She walked down the hallway, coat in hand.

As she opened the door to leave, something made her look up.

Reign was standing by the window upstairs, watching her. His arms were crossed, his face looked furrowed a little.

He didn't ask where she was going.

But she could feel the question in the air like a storm cloud.

Isabelle didn't answer. Just closed the door behind her.

The drive was short. The location Simon had sent was a small glass café tucked behind a used bookstore. It looked quiet and pretty empty.

She parked her car that was luckily delivered back on time, and walked in. A bell rang as she pushed the door, and she saw Simon, sitting near the back, a tea cup in front of him. 

He wasn't chewing lollipops anymore. He wasn't smiling either. His hair was slicked back, blue still, but neater. 

He wore a dark sweater and tailored pants. And when he looked up, Isabelle saw something serious in his eyes she hadn't seen before.

"Isabelle," he said with a short nod.

"You look different," she said, not sitting yet.

"I look how I want people to see me," he answered calmly.

Isabelle sat.

"You're not just the careless brother with colored hair and lollipops, are you?"

"No," he answered. "That's the version I show when I don't want people asking questions."

She folded her arms.

"You left me a note. Said you could help me. Why should I believe you?"

Simon leaned back in his chair, looking out the window for a moment.

"You think I'm lying?"

"I think you enjoy playing games," Isabelle replied.

Simon looked back at her and smiled a little. "Fair. But I didn't lie. I can help you. But before I do, I need to know something."

"What?"

He leaned in, his voice lowering. "How much do you really know about Charlotte and Caleb's death?"

Isabelle blinked. The words hit harder than she thought they would.

"I know what the reports said. Car crash. Brake failure. Accident..suicide..."

Simon tilted his head. "And you believe that?"

"I didn't say that."

He smiled slightly again. "Good."

Isabelle narrowed her eyes. "Then tell me what you think happened."

Simon didn't speak right away. He picked up his tea cup, took a small sip, then placed it back down. His moves were careful and precise. 

"I think it wasn't an accident," he said.

Her heart clenched.

"And I think someone very close to both of them made sure it looked like one."

She leaned forward. "You're talking about Reign, aren't you?"

Simon looked straight into her eyes now. His own eyes no longer carried the laziness of before.

"I'm saying," he stated slowly, "you married the man who might've had the most to gain from their deaths."