Chapter 1

    Isabella's heels clicked softly on the pavement as the sun began to ease the orange pink glow of its early morning light over the tall buildings. The city was beginning to stir as one and slowly awaken itself for the new day. Snow had collected on the sidewalks overnight but had been swept off to the side in great piles. Isabella pulled her black trenchcoat tighter around her figure, fighting against the bitter cold wind that made her eyes water.
    She rounded a street corner and laid eyes on one of the tallest buildings in New York City. The large golden numbers on the side of the building gleamed in the sunlight, and the revolving door turned invitingly, whispering of the heated rooms within. Without hesitation for traffic, she made her way briskly to the other side and quickly accepted the revolving door's invitation.
    She sighed happily as she immediately felt the heat melt her frozen core. Her painted red lips turned upward in a funny child-like smile as she rubbed feeling back into her cheeks and hands and arms, reveling in the building's warmth.
    "Good morning, Belle. How are you?"
    A woman in her mid-twenties with blonde curls and striking blue eyes greeted Isabella with a smile as warm as the room. She sat behind a handsome dark mahogany desk next to a sign that told visitors where to sign in. On the desk was a clipboard with sign-in sheets securely fastened beneath the clip and a pen tethered to the board. Nearby was a nameplate that read Ashley Munroe and a computer monitor behind. Twenty-five years old and only seven years her senior, both Isabella and Ashley felt no need for formalities and instead acquired a fondness for each other almost like sisters.
    "I'm doing fine," Isabella replied. "Has James arrived yet?"
    "Yes, he got here, I think, about fifteen minutes ago. He had a meeting to go to first. He told me you'd be coming so he said he'd call to let me know when to let you go up."
    Isabella's smile disappeared and she felt her left eyebrow twitch in irritation. He had stressed to her how important it was for her to arrive early, and here she was early and waiting for him, and his meeting could go on for two hours. She wasn't a patient sort and was quick to be irritated when forced to wait.
    With a sigh, she stripped off her coat and scarf to reveal a black dress and hung the items on the coat rack standing near Ashley's desk. The blonde eyed the dress up and down, and her lips turned upward approvingly.
    "You've got to let me borrow that."
    Isabella smiled, "Definitely. Whenever you want." She took a seat beside Ashley crossing her legs, giving Ashley an eyeful of the matching shoes of which she also asked to borrow.
    She leaned her head on the blonde's shoulder burying her face in the soft satin sleeve of her blouse. "I'm tired," she mumbled. Ashley patted the younger girl's wavy brown hair as she heard footsteps approaching the desk. She glanced upward and saw Jeremy Sinclair who worked in the mailroom. He was eighteen like Isabella and was just as close to her as Ashley.
    "Good morning, Miss Marquis, Ashley," his honey brown eyes twinkled beneath his dark bangs. He set the coffees he was carrying on the desk and brushed the hair out of his eyes.
    "Don't call me that," Isabella grumbled burying her face back into Ashley's sleeve.
    Jeremy let out a small laugh as he pushed two of the coffees forward.
    "Thank you so much, Jeremy!" the blonde squealed as she grabbed one of the coffees and smiled merrily as she took her first sip.
    "I got you one, too, Sleepyhead. Ashley texted me that you were going to be here."
    Isabella sat up groggily and took the coffee putting it to her lips. The sweet liquid felt good going down her throat, warming her insides. She felt the corners of her lips turn upward as she took another sip.
    "The least you could do is thank me," he said jokingly.
    Isabella's head shot up, "Oh, I'm sorry. Thank you, Jeremy."
    "There we go. You look prettier when you're awake," he laughed. "Anytime, Izzy."
    Ashley snorted, choking on her coffee. "Izzy?"
    "What?" he frowned, but then as if he just remembered where he was he looked at his watch and frowned even more. "Dang, I'm late. I'll see you guys later. Have a good one." He said as he walked towards the elevator that took him down to the mailroom.
    Minutes passed by as Ashley tapped away at her keyboard. Isabella's eyes absently wandered aimlessly around the room as she sipped her coffee slowly. When Isabella was bored enough, she would play with Ashley's long hair, braiding and twirling the golden locks, or flip through the magazine Ashley kept hidden in one of the desk's drawers.
    "Check out page, um, I folded the page corner down," Ashley said over her shoulder. "It's that actress from, oh gosh, I forgot the movie, but you know the one I'm talking about.
You know the one where - never mind. Do you see that dress? I am in love with the dress she's wearing." She let out a dramatic sigh, letting her shoulders droop, "If only I had the body for a dress like that." Her forehead wrinkled with thoughts laced with insecurity and self-doubt.
    "Oh, shut up. You know you're beautiful. You could totally work that dress. Much better than what's-her-face can," Isabella replied matter-of-factly; Ashley laughed.
    They continued flipping through the magazine together noting the dresses and shoes they liked as well as a few actors and models.
    The phone rang reminding Ashley of the work she had so easily neglected. She quickly picked up the phone and with her commercial greeting said, "Marquis. How may I help you?" She suddenly straightened her back and took on a more professional posture as if whoever was on the line could see her. Her eyebrows arched higher and her voice quavered slightly. "Oh! Yes, sir, Mr. Marquis. She's here... Yes, sir. I'll send her up right away." She laid the phone down and relaxed her posture. "Your brother just got out of his meeting. He says you can go on up."
    Isabella nodded and stood up, straightening her dress and ran her fingers quickly through her hair. She had just hit the elevator button when she remembered something and spun around to address Ashley.
    "Hey, Ash?"
    "Yeah?"
    "What time do you get off Friday?"
    "I'm off that day. I got to take Tuddles to the vet at 11, but after that I'm free. What's up?" she answered as she turned in her chair. Her bright blue eyes stared into Isabella's emerald green, and for a moment she forgot where she was. Ashley had that effect on people.
    "I was just wondering if you wanted to go shopping with me that day. There's a party later that night. Do you want to go?"
    The blonde looked excited, "Definitely. What should I wear?"
    "Let me take care of that," Isabella smiled at her friend. She loved going to parties but hated going alone. The older woman understood Isabella’s feelings and allowed herself to be dragged along, not like she was really putting up a fight. As thanks, Isabella always picked out and bought her an outfit to wear that was nothing short of stunning. Jeremy had started to tag along to these parties, and Isabella was more than happy to know that Ashley would later ask him to come along.
    The elevator arrived with a ding. She stepped into the vessel pressing the button for the top floor. She leaned against the back wall, her hands resting on the rail feeling the metal cool against her palms that were warm from the coffee. Isabella dreaded seeing her brother. Ever since their last meeting which had ended with her storming out of the room, she had screened his calls and ignored his messages. Her only reason for agreeing to meet him this morning was his threat of cutting her off entirely from any kind of cash flow. Her blood began to boil, and her cheeks flushed. She hadn't even seen him yet, and she was already ready to cut his head off. She released a calming breath and straightened herself up, arms at her sides and chin up, a steely glint in her eye.
    The elevator slowed to a stop, and the doors eased open silently. She stepped through and was greeted by a busty brunette with a blouse one size too small and three undone buttons too many. Her skirt hardly had enough fabric to accommodate a belt, and her heels were remarkably high.
    "Good morning, Miss Marquis. You can go right on in."
    "Thank you," Isabella replied without so much as glancing at the woman. James was disgusting.
    She entered the large office of her brother. Black leather couches and a glass-top coffee table were to the right of the door. A window took up the entire far wall with a glass-top desk facing away from it. James, a tall, slender man, was resting one elbow on the desk, his chin sitting in his palm, and moving a computer mouse lazily with his other hand as he scanned the information with a bored look in his eye.
    Suddenly noticing her, he straightened his posture. "Isabella." He stood and motioned for her to follow him to the leather couches where they sat on either side of the coffee table facing each other.
    Isabella looked him up and down. He still looked the same as he did the last time she saw him five months ago. His dark brown hair, wavy like her own, hung freely just passed his ears. He brushed his hand through his hair tucking the ends behind his ears; a few loose strands broke loose and hung in his face. They shared the same smooth, fair skin and handsome cheekbones, but where her jaw was somewhat petite, his was strong and squared off. His sharp eyes, a deep brown nearly black, looked her over as well.
    A smirk played across his lips as he drawled. "A little too dressed up for this time of day, aren't we, Isabella?"
    She hardened her stare, "Get on with it, James. Why am I here?"
    He let out a sigh. "Still mad at me for last time? Well, you're just going to have to get over it. You're eighteen now."
    "So?"
    He gestured to the manila folder lying on the table in front of them. He opened the folder revealing its contents of what subject Isabella couldn't be sure.
    "Dad wanted both of us to run this company," James said.
    Her heart lurched at his words. Her stare softened, and her lip quivered, but she quickly renewed her glamour.
    "You're old enough now to take on a position at the company. You'll go to college like you planned and work part-time for the company. You'll have a lot more leeway than everyone else, but you will still be committed entirely to your job."
    "Wait. Hold on just one minute. Who said that I even wanted a job?" Isabella said, outraged at his audacity to expect her to just take up the family business right alongside him without skipping a beat.
    His stare hardened angrily at her and continued in that drawling tone. "And why not? What's your good reason for defying our father's dying wish?"
    She was taken aback by his question. "That is none of your business," she retorted. She stood up, straightening her dress. "If that's all you wanted to talk to me about, then I'll go now. You know where I stand."
    Isabella took only a few angry steps for the door before James grabbed her arm in a firm grip, tight enough to cut off her circulation and possibly leave a bruise for later. He spun her around and held her, his face incredibly close to hers. She could feel his coffee-breath on her face, and her arm had already begun to ache where he had grabbed her.
    "Listen, you spoiled brat," he said between gritted teeth. His dark eyes were narrowed into a deadly glare most would have faltered under. The only one immune was Isabella who mirrored the glare back at him.
    "You've been living the life with this company's money. Dad's company's money. The least you could do is try a job here. At least try to do what dad asked of you. Or so help me, you will be cut off from everything, and I mean everything. Bare living expenses. Do you understand me?"
    Isabella's gaze didn't falter as he spoke in a harsh tone, his fingertips pressing down hard onto her skin. She tried to think of a way to get out of it, but she quickly realized how futile resisting would be. Her resolve withered away into defeat. He did say that she should try at the very least, and he was right about granting their father his dying wish. It couldn’t be so bad.
    "Fine. What's the job?" she relented.
    He stepped back, releasing his grasp and wincing at the sight of the red marks he had left. His gaze softened, and his voice was more relaxed, "You will be a liaison for the company. You'll travel where I need you to go and relay information to and fro. I especially need you for more personal jobs as well."
    An eyebrow shot up in an inquisitive look as he said this, "What do you mean personal?"
    He ignored her question and turned his back on her, collecting the manila folder and thrusting it into her hands. "Read over everything in the folder. I need to see you again Monday morning, 8 AM." His lips were faintly turned upward in a smile as he spoke while ushering her to the door.
    "Alright. I'll see you Monday." Her hand resting on the knob, she turned to face James. "And about your new secretary," a smirk found its way onto his lips, "You're disgusting." The insult only made him scowl at her.
    She turned on her heel and left, manila folder in hand and pure dread in mind.