Few days later, Isla arrived home in a wheelchair with Dora and Cade at night. Dora went upstairs and Isla was alone with Cade downstairs. He was making chicken noodle soup, his special get well soup. Isla was happy eating and sharing happy moments with Cade.
He took her to the bedroom.
"We have a small problem, Cade. How do I take my bath?" She asked.
"I'll do that for you." Isla's eyes widened.
"What? Why would you? You'll do no such thing." Isla disagreed. Before she knew it, the lights were switched off.
"Why did you switch off the lights?" Isla questioned him.
"This way, I won't see anything while I help you take a bath and get dressed. Is it fine by you?" Isla nodded.
Cade started by taking off the socks she was wearing, then her gown and jewellery. She had a strapless top on and an underskirt. He gently and carefully took them off, tied her hair and lifted her to the bathroom. He took off her underwear. They were both nervous and uncomfortable, especially Cade.
"Just place me in the bathtub already." She whispered softly and as she said it, Cade put his arm around her waist and lifted her. He felt her boobs on him and the arousal was hard to get over. He dropped her gently in the bathtub, while she had a peaceful bubble bath.
"The bathroom feels as cold as this water."
"I'm sorry Isla, thought it was actually warm." He apologized.
"Why did you kiss me the last time I got drunk?" Cade wasn't expecting that question. Gawd, Isla was a girl that always kept his heart on a race track.
"I guessed you badly wanted me to do it." Isla smiled.
"Yeah. I want you to do it again."
"What are you saying, Isla? This isn't the time for that." Cade was annoyed.
"You sound angry. Is it a crime? I'm not asking for too much."
"Then, you claim you love Brian..."
"This is a matter of urge and desire. Don't drag Brian into this. I feel like wrapping my legs around that torso of yours, you know."
"Isla, you must be done with bathing. I'll help you out, then you go to bed and stop being such a....flirt." Isla chuckled.
Few minutes later, she ordered Cade to get her out. This time, he helped her with a towel tied around. Cade turned on the lights after he dressed her up in her PJ's.
"I'll go to bed now. Goodnight." He turned to leave.
"Why can't you sleep by my side?" Isla asked like a child.
"Because I'm not Brian but a house manager."
"Are you insulting me because Brian is dead?"
"Of course not, just saying." He shrugged.
"Please stay here, I can't sleep without you."
"I'm afraid that can't happen, Isla. Bye." He ran out of the room and slammed the door.
Two hours later, Isla was on bed but kept tossing and turning. Suddenly, she had an idea. She dialed Cade's number six consecutive times. Few minutes later, she heard the door creak.
"Is that you, Cade?" She stood up and turned on her lamp.
"I had a nightmare, so I called."
"Nightmare?" Cade itched his eyes.
"Yes Cade, come here." She said seductively. Cade walked towards her slowly. He sat on the bed and stared at her.
"Isla, I'm tired. What do you want?" Cade asked tiredly.
"I want you to sleep by my side. If you leave now, I'll think about Brian and I'll cry. We're friends, right? Would you want your friend to stay awake and cry all night long? Then she won't be able to walk, or do any shoots." Cade thought for a second.
"Fine." Isla smiled in satisfaction and moved for him to sleep on the left side. Cade slowly laid down and pulled the sheet close to himself.
"There's a big fashion runway coming up in a week. I need a RiseUp entry code, which is quite hard to get."
"Why is the code so important?" Cade was curious.
"It makes you entitled to international gala and large events. Without the RiseUp code, you can't be a known model in some countries of the world. Brian was the only one in my life who could get it for me. But before bringing it to me, Rhea Sinclair killed him. High class bitch." Isla cursed with gritted teeth.
"I'm the only popular American model without a RiseUp code. Some big companies can't make me model because of this. It stains my career so much and I haven't been able to get it, all because of the evil snake that gave birth to me." Isla was speaking with so much pain. Cade turned to look at her. Tears were in her eyes, fighting to fall. He cupped her cheeks and pulled her close.
"Don't worry, Isla. With or without the code, you're beautiful. You're smart. You're special. Everybody likes you. Haters can go straight to hell, nobody cares. Everybody wants you, Isla." He encouraged her.
"But why don't you want me, Cade?" Before he realized what was going on, their faces weren't so farther apart.
"I can help you get the code." Cade changed the topic. Isla threw her head back in mocking loud laughter.
"You'll wake Dora up!"
"Do you really think getting the RiseUp code is an easy thing? Its not what you can get at a lemonade stand or something." She laughed.
"I know, Isla. But I want you to be at the show. That's little I can do for you."
"I might forget to tell you this – its my birthday on the fashion runway date." Isla informed Cade excitedly.
"Good. You had better recover quickly, regain some strength and walk! You can't be wheeled to the runway." They both chuckled and yawned too.
"I'm sleepy." Isla closed her eyes.
"Same."
Three days after, Isla was regaining strength. Cade made her do strenous exercises that made her weak and tired. She felt herself go completely crippled at a point until she dipped her legs in water. Dora was wheeling her around in a shopping cart, laughing hysterically and buying the whole mall.
Rhea Sinclair was getting a new haircut, preparing for the fashion runway. Her phone buzzed while she was trying to relax and stylists were around her. She answered the call.
"Hi." She greeted formally.
"Rhea. Where is your daughter?" Mr. Sinclair asked authoritatively.
"What kind of insane question is that? Isla is in your house, right? Why does she need to be here?"
"Isla is sick. Why didn't you go check up on her, and probably bring her to your house for proper care?"
"You employed a house manager. The guy can care for her." Rhea shrugged.
"You're Isla's mother. No one can give her the care she needs from you. If not for my busy schedules, I would have come rushing." Mr. Sinclair thundered.
"Then cancel those businesses and come rushing!"
"What are you saying?"
"Now you know work is more important than a daughter who's 32 years old, has no roof over her head, squanders money on new clothes and cosmetics, and the worst of all, has no husband but a worthless house manager who's always dressed in tank tops and pants, following her everywhere! Please, get off the phone and find something meaningful to do with your day." Saying that, Rhea hung up and threw the phone to one of her maids.
"Switch it off."
"Mrs. Sinclair, Mr. Alexander is outside and says he wants to have a word with you." A maid reported to Rhea.
"Alexander Dills? Let him in." The smart looking guy walked in wearing a tuxedo. He was one of the most handsome, popular and best male models in the country. He wasn't a part of Rhea's modeling society, and he was meeting her for the first time. He came from one of the most powerful families.
"Its good to see you." He bowed. Mrs. Sinclair signalled for all the stylists to leave. Alexander sat.
"Why did you sit on my sofa without waiting for me to offer you a seat?"
"I thought you fully welcomed me in."
"Never mind. Its good to see you too. Any deals?" Rhea asked him, looking interested.
"Actually, we want you to work with our modeling society." Alexander started.
"Why?"
"We have a huge offer for you and your group. To be part of YasMin, the third biggest international gala. You don't even need a RiseUp code for it. All you need to do is to be with us." He explained.
"YasMin is a dream come true. But the offer shouldn't be coming from you or your society. I've been into modeling even before I had my daughter. I should be able to do this on my own, with my modeling group and a RiseUp code." Rhea replied him.
"Its good you're trying to be an achiever. The girl you mentioned as your daughter is the point. The widowed supermodel. I like her. I want her." Rhea was shocked.
"Really? Strange coming from you. Is Isla really that pretty?"
"Of course! The hottest model I've ever seen in my life. I can't get her out of my mind. When I see her pictures online, I feel like kissing her, I want to roll my tongue on her juicy lips, boobs, I go crazy whenever I see Isla. Honestly, I love her so much and if you refuse this, you won't get to be at YasMin or work with my society."
"Do you want to marry Isla or you just want her for a night?"
"A night? I want that woman all the nights I'll spend on earth. You just approve, and she'll be mine. I know you want a husband for your daughter too."
"Yeah. A husband with benefits." Rhea nodded.
"I'm that guy, ma'am. What will you say?" Alex asked. He was nervous but determined.
"Since it involves YasMin, and a net worth that can make me one of the biggest models in the world, what's stopping me? You can have my daughter, and I'll get paid millions at your society for every single model I introduce. Our contract will end once Isla becomes a single mother and her entire career is ruined through insults from fans. Then, I'll be the richest, most popular, powerful and successful supermodel in the world." Rhea agreed.
Without further delay, Alexander and Rhea signed the contract.
"I have a plan. I want you to go to the place Isla lives with her dad. I want you to ask her out on a date." Rhea told Alex.
"That would be a great idea, but do you think she'd like me?"
"Didn't you think about that before you signed a contract with me? Are you sick or something?"
"I'm sorry ma'am. I will carry out your orders as well as add your name to my modeling society. It'll do a little good to my brand."
"Oh sure, it will."
It was nighttime, and Isla was on her wheelchair, staring at the sky from the terrace. It was a beautiful view of the moon, with tiny stars around. The breeze was slow and calm, but she felt a little cold.
"I need to go inside." She thought, until she heard the backdoor creek.
"Cade? Is that you?"
"Its not Cade; Its Alex." Isla was scared.
"Who the hell is Alex?" She turned her wheelchair around and saw Alexander Dills. A bright smile formed on her lips.
"Good to see you Mr. Alexander! What brings you to my house? I mean, how did you even get the address? Why did you come through the backdoor?"
"I...I thought I'd find you on the terrace since it was so quiet down there." He replied.
"How do you feel now?" He said compassionately.
"I'm fine thank you. I can walk a little now, I just thought I'd relax on this chair." Isla grinned. Alexander sat on the pink cushion opposite hers.
"You look tired, why haven't you slept?"
"My manager just went out with his daughter, and I'm waiting for them to return."
"Okay...Are you sure you'd be able to go on the upcoming fashion show? Oh sorry, you don't have a RiseUp code yet. Even if you did, models would be there with their boyfriends. You don't have anyone in your life, so..." Alexander shrugged.
"I'll get my code soon. Besides, I have a man in my life."
"What? Are you talking about your house manager?" Alex laughed.
"No. Him." Isla raised a portrait of Brian she was holding. Alexander let out a mockery laughter.
"Are you going to have a picture on the show? You've gone completely crazy."
"Hey. You're here and I've told you that I'm doing fine. So get lost." Alexander's laugh faded away into a surprised look.
"I've not said too much, my Princess. I just want to be the man. Just imagine, dating me and becoming a part of my modeling society, which is even better than yours. Having a RiseUp code with ease and being the top supermodel that the world prays for. You'd be damn rich. You'd live in a grand mansion and you won't have to do anything yourself. You'd have servants!"
"You, tell that to the bitch that sent you here. Tell her I'm already living in the mansion of my dreams. I can buy four grand mansions in the country with the money I earn. Even if I wanted a man to go on the show with me, It wouldn't be you. You're so darn disgusting." Alexander was shocked and angry.
"Me? Are you blind, Isla Sinclair? Can't you see the man standing in front of you? Your life and career is on the line, about to get completely destroyed because of your own adamant nature and the 'hard to get' you're suddenly playing ever since you became a tragic widow. What is wrong with you? People like you are delusional all the time. They think their dead husband is going to come back. Why haven't you become a nun? Why are you still showing off your boobs, hips, killer curves, butt on the runway? What's the point of being sexy when you're nothing but a widow who's always thinking that someday, Brian will show up? A handsome, rich, powerful guy is standing in front of you, trying to get into you and you're insulting? Just look at you. Should you be the type who insults guys? You've had three husbands. Girls no longer look up to you. You called me disgusting – then what's the word for you? Shameless. Stupid. Insecure."
"Is that what you think of Isla Sinclair? Then, go to hell." A cold voice cut through the air. It was Cade, standing there with an expression so red, he was going to kill Alexander with his fists. He was wearing a nosemask. Isla was already crying profusely and hopelessly.
"Who are you?"
"I'm the man in her life. I'm the man she's dating. How dare you say such things about her? Are you insane? She's absolutely right about everything she said. You're only facially handsome, but the way you think is disgusting. Men like you are only trying to get what's underskirts. I won't hesitate to curse you, if you ever come her way again, you scumbag. GET OUT!" Cade shouted at him. Alexander walked out annoyed.
Isla broke down on the ground in uncontrollable tears. Cade went towards her and wrapped his arms around her.