No Strings Attached: Trapped By My One Night Lover

Isabella hurried out of the hotel, her disheveled appearance making it seem as though she were fleeing from the place.

The moment she got into the cab, a sinking feeling hit her. After leaving the two hundred-dollar bills behind, she was penniless. She didn't even have a phone with her.

When the cab stopped outside Brynn's apartment building, Isabella called and had Brynn come out to pay the fare. After that, Isabella confronted her friend. "How could you let some random man take me away last night?"

Brynn stared at her in disbelief as she spoke. "How is that my fault? You're the one who clung to him and refused to let him go."

Those words made Isabella blush again.

After taking a closer look at her, Brynn noticed the marks on Isabella's neck and said with barely contained excitement, "Judging by those hickeys, things must've gotten intense last night."

That teasing remark dragged Isabella back to everything that had happened.

Her mind drifted back to the man's heated touch and the passion in his eyes. He had taken control so effortlessly that she'd abandoned every trace of caution and surrendered to the moment.

Determined to shut those memories out, she shook her head and redirected the conversation. "Where's my phone?"

Brynn handed it over and said, "Nice attempt at changing the subject. You must've had a great time with him. I can't blame you, though. He was ridiculously handsome. I tried to follow you last night, but several bodyguards suddenly appeared and stopped me."

Instead of listening, Isabella focused on the messages filling her screen. Brynn's voice faded into the background, and none of her final words registered.

Among the notifications were several missed calls from Ryan, but Isabella had no intention of returning them. Whatever had once existed between them was over, and there was nothing more to discuss.

At the top of the call history, an unfamiliar number finally caught her attention. The call had come shortly after she'd left the hotel that morning.

Though it was an unknown number, Isabella already knew who it belonged to. Her fingertip lingered above the screen for a moment before she tapped the call icon.

Someone answered right away. The response came so quickly that Isabella didn't have time to prepare herself.

"Ms. Dawson?"

A rich, deep voice sounded through the phone, and Isabella fell silent for a second.

Something about that voice stirred a faint sense of recognition.

Rather than dwell on the strange feeling, Isabella collected herself and said, "Hello, Mr. Bennett. I reached out to you yesterday because I'd like to talk to you about your daughter, Sylvia."

"We'll speak face-to-face," the man replied in a curt and emotionless tone.

Although his voice had seemed familiar at first, Isabella soon convinced herself that her mind was playing tricks on her.

After all, the possibility that the man she had slept with last night was Sylvia's father seemed absurd. He looked far too young to have a daughter her age.

"Please send me the address, Mr. Bennett," she said.

"All right."

The man ended the call after his brief response, and an address appeared on Isabella's phone moments later.

Seeing it made her frown slightly.

Noticing her troubled expression, Brynn leaned closer and asked, "What's wrong? Is the address suspicious?"

Isabella spoke with a hint of unease. "It's the same hotel I walked out of this morning."

Could it really be nothing more than a coincidence?

The man from last night came to Isabella's mind when she connected the familiar voice with the address on her screen.

Still, she dismissed the thought with a quick shake of her head. The odds of something so absurd happening to her were far too slim.

"You're seriously meeting Sylvia's father?" Brynn raised her voice in shock.

Confused by Brynn's dramatic reaction, Isabella looked at her strangely. "What, am I supposed to let Ryan use me as a stepping stone to climb the social ladder?"

If she just divorced Ryan quietly, that would be exactly what he wanted. She would make sure Sylvia's father saw Ryan's true colors so Ryan's plans would fall apart.

Should Ryan dare to exploit her, she'd take everything from him, and he'd better be ready to face the consequences.

Once Isabella tucked her phone away, she changed into the clothes Brynn had lent her and headed out to meet the man.

...

Following the address she'd received, Isabella returned to the hotel and took the elevator straight to the highest floor. When she reached the correct suite and lifted her hand to knock, she discovered that the door had been left slightly open.

Had Sylvia's father deliberately left it that way for her arrival?

Assuming the man had thoughtfully spared her the trouble of knocking, Isabella pushed the door open without giving it much consideration and stepped inside.

Every suite on the top floor was presidential. Beyond the door stretched a vast living area, and near the floor-to-ceiling window stood a man dressed in a suit.

The moment Isabella saw him, she recognized him. Memories of the heated night she'd spent with him rushed back, and her feet froze before she could take another step.

"Mr. Bennett?" Isabella said with caution.

At the sound of her voice, the man standing by the window slowly turned to face her.

The moment Isabella saw the familiar face, she recoiled without thinking. Her expression stiffened as shock drained the color from her face.

Taking in her pale complexion, Isaac offered a slight smile. "Ms. Dawson, it seems our paths have crossed again."

Disbelief swept through Isabella. The stranger she'd spent the night with turned out to be Sylvia's father.

On her way to the hotel, Isabella had repeatedly assured herself that the chances of such an absurd coincidence were nearly impossible. Yet fate had still thrown her into this unbelievable situation.

Refusing to believe what she was seeing, Isabella asked for confirmation, "Are you really Sylvia's father?"

Noticing the unease in her expression, Isaac regarded her with a brief flash of amusement. "I'm not related to her by blood."

The tension in Isabella's body melted away in relief. However, before she could settle down, the implication behind his answer finally struck her.

"Does that mean you're her stepfather?" she asked as uneasiness tightened her voice once more.

Isaac lifted an eyebrow at the question. "You've misunderstood the situation, Ms. Dawson. I only provide for Sylvia. Someone who once helped me entrusted her to me before he died, so I've taken responsibility for looking after her."

Isabella froze in shock, realizing she'd misunderstood the situation.

He gestured to a nearby couch. "Please, sit down."

While Isaac remained perfectly at ease, Isabella lowered herself onto the couch with visible stiffness. He then took the seat opposite her.

Settling back with his legs crossed, he picked up a tablet and spoke in the same rich voice she remembered. "Would you care for a drink? Milk might be best. I doubt you've had breakfast yet."

Without waiting for her response, he arranged it on her behalf with such effortless consideration that Isabella had no chance to refuse.

Warm milk filled the glass in Isabella's hands, but it did little to calm her nerves. After wrestling with her thoughts for a while, she finally asked, "Are you aware that Sylvia is interfering in my marriage?"

Isaac placed his coffee on the table before saying, "My name is Isaac Higgins. I'm fairly certain I told you that last night, Ms. Dawson."

"Well..." Isabella couldn't think of anything else to say.

Isaac continued, "Regarding your accusation, I only became aware of the situation recently. I still don't have the complete story about what's happening between Sylvia and your husband."

Despite the uncomfortable history between them, Isabella's embarrassment gradually faded when Isaac kept the conversation formal and detached.

She explained everything that had happened between Sylvia and Ryan.

In the end, she made her stance clear. "Mr. Higgins, if Sylvia was entrusted to you, then you need to make sure she understands that her behavior is unacceptable."

Silence followed her demand as Isaac considered her words. After several moments, a quiet, humorless laugh left him.

Something about the sound carried a trace of mockery, though Isabella couldn't tell whether it was aimed at himself or at her. Before she could interpret it, Isaac spoke. "What interests me is what you plan to do afterward, Ms. Dawson. Once I've dealt with Sylvia, are you intending to return to your husband and repair your marriage?"

His question immediately drew Isabella's brows together.