Between Starlight and Heartbeats

Chapter 1

Arthur Langley couldn't believe what he was hearing. The girl he once loved, now just a memory of innocence, had turned into a woman demanding a hefty price for her company—dinner for $100,000 and a night in bed for a million.
Well, if she could set the price, he could certainly pay it!
It was simple; once he grew bored, he’d be able to toss her aside without a second thought.
Isolde Fairchild had long abandoned hope for love after witnessing her boyfriend in bed with another woman. The heartbreak had shattered her belief in romance at a young age. She had armored herself in indifference, determined never to feel that kind of pain again.
But then, just when she thought she could put the past behind her, Arthur appeared once more. This time, he was her new boss, commanding her to follow his every directive without question.
However, there was one thing the contract definitely didn’t stipulate—sharing a bed with him didn't come part of the deal...

Chapter 2

Hidden in the shadows, a pair of eyes was closely monitoring Isolde Fairchild's every move.
At that moment, she was seated at an upscale restaurant, a posh place called The Gilded Table, dining with her agent, Edmund Blackwood.
Today, she seemed in good spirits; known for her icy demeanor, she surprisingly offered Edmund a soft smile—a rare sight that hadn’t graced her lips in ages.
Seeing that exquisite smile, one that he had missed for so long, Edmund's grip tightened around his silverware, a wave of discomfort washing over him.
Rumors circulating in The Couriers' Chronicle about her cozy relationship with her agent, insinuating something more intimate, suddenly felt likely true.
Furrowing his brow, he couldn’t shake off the whispers he’d heard—that she charged a hundred grand for dinner and a million for more, and that for the right price, a whole month could be booked.
Could it be true? Was Isolde really leveraging her beauty and fame to trade for cash?
In a nearby car, Arthur Langley lowered his binoculars, rolled down the window, and lit a cigarette, all while keeping his gaze on her luminous figure. In the glow of the crystal chandeliers, she appeared even more dazzling.
He couldn’t help but reminisce about her when they had first met. Back then, she was so innocent and sweet, much like a pristine lily in full bloom. But now, she had transformed into a menacing Venus flytrap, ensnaring men to feed her ambitions.
As the smoke curled around him, he squinted, bitterness creeping in as he whispered to himself, “Isolde, why have you changed?”

Chapter 3

A girl with a delicate face rushed over, calling out to the tall girl ahead of her.
The girl in front turned her head at the sound, her short hair gently brushing against her face. Her bright, snow-white complexion and enchanting features captivated the young boys watching from the second-floor hallway.
“Eleanor, what’s up?” Isolde Fairchild, the most renowned beauty in the school, asked.
“I’m sorry, Isolde. My brother is picking me up today, so… I can’t walk home with you,” Eleanor Whitmore said, twisting her fingers apologetically.
“It’s okay. I can head back by myself,” Isolde replied with an indifferent smile. “You’re lucky, Eleanor, to have such a caring brother.”
“Yeah… I guess.” Eleanor couldn’t help but give a wry smile, fully aware of the burden her overprotective brother placed on her.
“Well, I’m off then. You should go wait for your brother.”
“See you tomorrow! Bye!”
After a brief farewell, Isolde slung her backpack over her shoulder and headed alone towards the school gate.
“She’s really beautiful, like a fairy from the sky.”
A group of teenage boys stood on the balcony, squinting their eyes in admiration as they watched Isolde walk further away.
“Yeah. Too bad she’s so hard to get. I’d repeat a whole year just for a single date with Isolde,” one boy sighed dreamily.
“Yeah right,” another shoved him playfully. “With her grades, even if you repeated ten years, you still wouldn’t be in her class.”
“Hahaha…”
Laughter erupted among them, until a tall and handsome boy walked past, glancing back disinterestedly at their commotion, hands shoved into his pockets as he continued on his way.
He had seen the beauty in question—Isolde—and she was indeed striking, but her haughty demeanor was a complete turn-off. She showed no mercy to the boys who tried to confess their feelings, enjoying the way they fell flat on their faces.
He despised girls who were a bit attractive or clever yet acted like they owned the world; that wasn’t charming at all.
Arthur Langley strolled on, but some sharp-eyed kids spotted him, immediately whispering, “It’s Arthur Langley!”
They all turned to gawk at him, erupting into a cacophony of chatter.
“It really is him.”
“He transferred last semester, right?”
“I heard he has a French passport. His dad’s French.”
“But he doesn’t look mixed at all.”
“No, no. His stepfather is French. His real dad is Japanese.”
“Wait, how do you know that?” they asked, astonished. This was like family gossip.
“My aunt works as a maid at Langley Hall. She overheard it,” one boy replied smugly.
“Seriously? Can’t tell he has Japanese roots.”
“Right? He’s so tall—doesn’t fit that stereotype at all—”
“Why are you all still hanging around? Get home!” barked the school principal, startling the boys into scattering like startled birds.
Meanwhile, Arthur, having dismissed the driver, decided to enjoy a leisurely walk home. The weather that day was nice—crisp and refreshing, bringing a lift to his spirits.
With one hand in his pants pocket, he turned into a quiet alley, avoiding the pollution and chaos of the busy streets.
After a few minutes of casual walking, a familiar figure caught his eye. Squinting, he recognized the girl from the earlier scene—the ethereal beauty, Isolde.
Head bowed, she sat on a low concrete wall by the side of the road, seemingly lost in thought.
Arthur shot a quick glance her way, planning to pretend he hadn’t seen her and keep walking. But after just a few steps, he couldn’t help but furrow his brows and turn back around.
What was she doing sitting there so aimlessly? It struck him as strange.

Chapter 4

He pursed his lips, contemplating for a few seconds before turning back.
He stood in front of her, and Isolde looked up to see a pair of glossy black shoes planted firmly before her. She slowly raised her gaze.
Arthur Langley felt a sudden jolt to his heart when he noticed the glistening tears in her slightly reddened eyes.
"Why... are you crying?" A sense of confusion washed over him, something he had never felt before with any woman.
"None of your business." Isolde quickly wiped away her tears and turned her head away.
She could turn to anyone in the world for help, but she wouldn’t dare ask Arthur. He was too accomplished, too perfect. Since he transferred to their school, he had claimed the title of the top student, and she refused to let him know about her struggles.
Arthur wasn’t naturally a patient person, but today he was in a good mood, so he decided to give her another chance.
"Tell me what happened. Why are you sitting here crying?" He squatted down to meet her eyes and asked again.
"I told you it's none of your business. Can’t you understand that?" Isolde, fiercely proud, knew he was her only chance for help, yet she stubbornly rejected his outstretched hand.
"Fine." Arthur narrowed his eyes, standing up straight. "If you like sitting here so much, go ahead. But don’t say I didn’t warn you—this alley is deserted, and after dark, unsavory types or creeps might show up. A pretty young student like you is exactly what they’re looking for..."
Unsavory types. Creeps. Isolde immediately began to look around in fright.
Could they really show up?
"Y-you can’t scare me! I... I won’t be scared!" She fought to keep her voice steady, tilting her chin defiantly as she glared at him.
Arthur couldn’t help but chuckle as he noticed her brave facade despite the fear lurking behind her eyes. Strangely enough, he found her stubbornness endearing.
He turned away, pretending to leave. "You’re better off not being scared, because even if you were, no one would come to save you. Just think about how those unsavory types and creeps would treat you. They would... strip you of your clothes. Touch you inappropriately. Or—"
Before he could finish, Isolde shouted in terror, "Stop talking!"
"Will you tell me now?" He turned back to her, giving her one last chance.
"I...," Isolde bit her lip, gazing down at her feet, and with a tone that suggested surrender, she finally whispered, "My shoe is broken."
"Shoe," Arthur looked down at her feet, noting that one of the delicate leather straps supporting her black flats was broken, hanging uselessly on one side.
So her shoe was broken—that explained why she had been sitting here crying helplessly.
"Let me see." Arthur knelt beside her, gently picking up her delicate foot to examine the broken strap.
Her face flushed deeply; no man had ever touched her feet like this—not even her father, who had been absent for years.
"It’s broken. There’s no way it’s usable now." After inspecting it for a moment, Arthur informed her.
"What do I do now?" With tears welling in her eyes again, Isolde felt forlorn.
"Don't worry." Arthur turned his back to her and patted it. "Hop on."
"What are you doing?" Isolde glared at him, instinctively moving backward to create distance.
"I'm going to carry you home." Arthur looked over his shoulder, clarifying, "Your shoe strap is broken, and you can't walk. Of course, I'll have to carry you."
"I don’t want that." Isolde immediately shook her head. "I won’t let you do that."
The idea of being carried felt too intimate; they hardly knew each other, and she couldn’t allow him to take advantage of her like that.
"Would you rather sit here? Don’t you realize it’s getting dark?" Arthur frowned; the girl really was too stubborn.

Chapter 5

Isolde Fairchild looked up at the sky and noticed that it was almost dark. The sun had slipped away without her noticing, the bright daylight gradually fading, leaving only the glow of the sunset to light the ground beneath her.
“Get up here. I promise I won’t do anything inappropriate. But if you still refuse, I can’t be responsible for what happens next,” Arthur Langley warned.
His threat clearly worked, as images of troublemakers and weirdos filled Isolde's mind, causing her to shudder involuntarily.
“Fine… okay,” she conceded.
With hesitation, she climbed down from the low wall, lingering for a moment as she gazed at his back before shyly wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders. She leaned forward, pressing her soft chest against his firm back.
Arthur felt a tremor run through him at her touch, heat radiating from the place where her body met his. He had always considered himself strong-willed, immune to temptation, but at that moment, he realized he was just an ordinary man, susceptible to such affections.
“Hold on tight.” He closed his eyes tightly for a moment, gritted his teeth, and then gently cradled her rounded hips with one hand, standing upright with determination.
“Uh… am I too heavy?” Isolde asked quietly, concerned that she might be too much for him to carry.
“You’re light as a feather,” Arthur replied, still managing to joke as he carried her effortlessly.
“I’m serious,” Isolde said, slightly annoyed.
“I am serious too. To me, you're incredibly light. I work out a lot, lift weights and all. Your measly forty-something kilos? It’s nothing to me.” He spoke without intending to boast but just stating a fact.
So that's why he looked so fit, Isolde thought, blushing as she grasped his sturdy shoulders tightly, feeling the strength beneath her. His physique was entirely different from that of other students at school; he seemed like a fully grown man.
“Where do you live?”
Arthur continued walking down the narrow alley without breaking a sweat or losing his breath.
“Just a bit further ahead. After we exit this alley, take a right, and the next street will lead you there.” Isolde reluctantly revealed the address she typically kept hidden from others.
“Got it,” he nodded as he kept striding forward.
As they exited the narrow alley, they found themselves on a busier street, with more pedestrians passing by. People couldn’t help but glance at the unusual sight of him carrying her, and feeling the heat of many curious eyes on her, Isolde, embarrassed, lightly tapped Arthur’s back and whispered, “Everyone’s staring, let me down.”
“If they want to watch, let them. We aren’t doing anything wrong; there’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Arthur continued proudly walking, not letting her down.
Isolde groaned and decided to bury her face in his broad back, too shy to look up.
Arthur turned into the alley she mentioned, shortly finding her house.
Standing in front of the worn-down house, Arthur was surprised.
He had expected her family to be either wealthy or from a prestigious background, not this… it was difficult for him to fathom how Isolde, who always carried herself like a queen at school, lived in such rundown conditions.
“What’s wrong? Never seen a place in disrepair before? Surprised?” Isolde asked coolly, sliding off his back. She limped forward, dragging a broken shoe behind her, searching her keys to unlock the door.
“Should we go in for a moment?” She turned, examining the surprise in his eyes. “My house may be broken down, but I can still offer you a cup of tea.”
“Uh… of course not.” Arthur quickly masked his surprise and followed Isolde inside.
He took a seat on a simple wicker chair in the living room, his curiosity piqued as he glanced around.
“Your parents aren’t home?”
“My mom won’t be back until around nine, and my dad left us for another woman long ago, so I usually have dinner alone,” she said, changing into some comfy slippers. She poured him a glass of water. “Thanks for helping me. Do you want to stay for some noodles? My soup noodles are pretty good.”

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