Now he was looking at me again with the same cold assessment he used when deciding which branch of a business to amputate to save the rest.
“You understand what you’re offering,” he said slowly. “This will not be a real marriage.”
“I understand perfectly.”
“You will not be loved.”
“That isn’t a requirement.”
“You will not be consulted.”
“I’m used to that.”
“He may never recover,” he pressed.
I met his gaze. “Then nothing changes.”
Serena stared at me like I’d lost my mind.
“Isabella,” she whispered, “you don’t have to—”
“Yes, I do,” I interrupted gently. “Because you won’t.”
My stepmother’s mouth tightened.
This was not about generosity. It never had been.
This was about cost.
And in this family, I was always the cheapest thing on the table.
“You’re asking me to believe this is altruism,” my father said. “That’s insulting.”
“It isn’t altruism,” I said. “It’s negotiation.”
That made him sit back.
“You don’t sacrifice yourself without wanting something in return.”
“Exactly.”
The words hung between us. I let the silence work for me, watching as irritation slid into interest behind his eyes.
“What are your terms?” he asked.
“I want Grantstone BioLabs,” I said. “Full voting control.”
Serena inhaled sharply.
“That division is dormant,” my father snapped. “It hemorrhaged money. We shut it down because it was unsalvageable.”
“You shut it down because it wasn’t profitable fast enough,” I replied. “Not because it wasn’t valuable.”
“You don’t even know what you’d be inheriting.”
“I’ve already studied the patents.”
The room froze.
My father stared at me. Really stared this time, as though trying to identify the version of his daughter who had quietly acquired that kind of knowledge.
“You want a dead company in exchange for your future?” he said.
“I want autonomy.”
“That division is a liability.”
“Then you’ll be relieved to be rid of it.”
His jaw worked.
Serena whispered, “Dad—”
He raised a hand.
“How quickly do you want it transferred?” he asked me.
“Before the engagement is announced.”
Silence followed.
Then he nodded once.
“Done.”
I stood.
“As soon as the paperwork is finalized, I’ll meet Julian.”
---
The city outside the tower was slick with rain, neon bleeding into puddles like bruised light.
Ethan was waiting by the car, umbrella already in hand, posture immaculate as ever.
“Long meeting?” he asked.
“It’s settled.”