The words land harder than she expects.
Alisa’s mouth tightens.“The will,” she snaps, like the phrase itself offends her, “is not worth destroying your career over.Let that kilt man have the castle.Who cares?”
“I’m not destroying anything.”
“You have a concert in New York in six weeks,” Alisa fires back instantly.“Then Boston.Then Paris.Contracts you signed.Venues that don’t reschedule because someone wants to play heiress in a castle.”
Isla rises slowly.Her legs feel steady, grounded in a way she doesn’t expect.“I can practice here.Fly to the city for one night and then return.I won’t miss any concert dates.”
Alisa lets out a short, sharp laugh.“Practice isn’t the problem.Perception is.”
She steps closer, lowering her voice as if the walls themselves might be listening.
“Do you have any idea how fast this turns into a circus?”Alisa continues.“Biographers.Documentarians.Lawyers.Everyone with a grudge or a theory crawling out of the woodwork.Someone claiming they were promised this place.Someone claiming they were promisedhim.Or worse, someone claiming they were promised you.I’ve lived in the circus; you never have.”
Isla’s jaw tightens as understanding dawns.“This isn’t about missing a concert.”
“It is absolutely about that,” Alisa snaps.“Everything you have depends on discipline.On control.On consistency.Classical music does not forgive instability.”
“Neither do you,” Isla says quietly.
Alisa recoils slightly, then schools her expression.“I have spent your entire life protecting you from your father’s circus.”
“You’ve been managing me,” Isla says.“There’s a difference.”
Alisa exhales sharply.“You were a child.”
“I’m not anymore.”
Alisa’s eyes flash.“Then stop acting like one.”
The words sting more than Isla expects.And she suddenly wonders when the last time she defied her mother was.When has she ever been truly independent?But it’s more than that.It’s the fact that she’s staying in her father’s castle.The man her mother hated.
Alisa’s mouth hardens.“The man who nearly ruined us.”
“I was a baby.You mean the man who nearly ruined you.The man who paid for my entire life,” Isla counters.
The silence between them cracks like ice.
“He paid because it was easier than showing up,” Alisa says.“He paid so he wouldn’t have to explain himself.So he wouldn’t have to change.”
“And you let him,” Isla says.“You took the money every month.”
Could her mother have prevented her from ever seeing her father?The thought sneaks into her brain like a worm, creating chaos.
“I took it because it was owed,” Alisa snaps.“Because he didn’t get to walk away without consequences.”
“And while you were taking it,” Isla says slowly, “you were deciding everything else.”
Alisa stiffens.“I made sure you succeeded.”
“Did I?”Isla asks.
The question hangs there.
Alisa’s gaze flickers, just for a second.
And Isla feels something shift.
