Broken by his Fortune

"This has to be a joke."

Isabella James stared at the email on her phone, her fingers tightening around her phone as she read the message again. The sender was a high-end art broker, offering her an exclusive commission that promised more money than she had seen in years. But it wasn't the amount that made her stomach twist. It was the name.

Robert Thompson.

Her breath hitched.

The Robert Thompson.

Billionaire CEO.

Ruthless corporate shark.

And the man responsible for her family's downfall.

Isabella grip on the phone trembled as her mind flashed back to her father's defeated expression the day he lost everything. The long nights her mother spent crying. The humiliation of having to sell their home, their security everything.

And now, out of all the people in the world, he wanted her to paint his portrait?

Amelia, her younger sister, glanced up from the couch, where she was sketching in her notebook.

"You look like you've seen a ghost. What's wrong?"

Isabella exhaled sharply, running a hand through her messy hair.

"You won't believe this. Someone just offered me a commission."

Amelia smiled. "That's great! Who is it?"

Isabella hesitated before forcing the name out.

"Robert Thompson"

The notebook slipped from Amelia's hand.

Her face paled. "No. Way."

Isabella let out a serious laugh.

"Oh, it gets better. He's offering an insane amount of money. Enough to cover my rent for the next year, maybe longer."

Amelia shot up from the couch.

"Isabella, you can't be serious. You're not considering this, are you?"

Isabella bit her lip.

"I don't know. It's a lot of money, Amelia. And let's be real I'm barely making ends meet as it is."

Amelia crossed her arms.

"This is Robert Thompson . The guy who destroyed our father's company, ruined our family. Do you want to be anywhere near him?"

"No," Isabella admitted.

"But I also don't want to keep struggling. This is a chance to get my work into the hands of powerful clients. It could change everything."

Amelia eyes softened.

"I get it, Isabella.

I do. But just... be careful, okay?"

Isabella nodded, but deep down, she knew that no amount of caution could prepare her for stepping into Robert Thompson's world.

Two Days Later – Robert's Penthouse

"Miss James, Mr. Thompson will see you now."

Isabella swallowed her nerves as she followed the assistant into the stunning penthouse overlooking the city skyline. The space was cold, modern, and strange perfect, just like the man who owned it.

Then she saw him.

Robert Thompson stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, dressed in a crisp navy blue suit. Tall, broad-shouldered, and gorgeously handsome. He turned slowly, his piercing steel-blue eyes locking onto hers.

For a moment, the room seemed to shrink. Isabella felt an almost electric shock of recognition not because she had met him before, but because his presence was as overwhelming as the stories said.

"Miss James."

" His voice was deep, smooth, and dangerous. "You're late."

Isabella stand still. "By two minutes."

Robert arched a brow, clearly amused.

"I don't tolerate lateness."

Well, she shot back,

"I don't tolerate arrogance, so I guess we're even."

A flicker of something unreadable crossed his face. Then, unexpectedly, he smile.

"Interesting."

Isabella squared her shoulders, refusing to let him intimidate her.

"You requested my work. So if you want this portrait, I'll need to know exactly what you're looking for."

Robert studied her, the silence stretching until Isabella wondered if she had pushed too hard. But instead of responding with anger, he simply walked over to the sleek bar cart and poured himself a drink.

"I want a portrait that captures who I am," he said, spinning the amber liquid in his glass.

Isabella crossed her arms.

"And who exactly are you, Mr. Thompson?"

He took a slow sip before meeting her gaze again. "That's what you're here to figure out."

Damn him. Why did his voice have to sound like sin itself?

Isabella took a deep breath. She could do this. She had to do this.

"I'll need multiple sittings," she said. "A few hours each."

Robert nodded. "Fine. We'll start tomorrow. Same time."

He stepped closer, his towering presence unsettling. "One rule, Miss James."

Isabella refused to step back.

"What's that?"

His smile returned, dark and knowing.

"Don't fall in love with me."

She let out a sharp laugh.

"Trust me, Mr. Thompson . That won't be a problem."

And for the first time, Isabella wondered if she had just made a deal with the devil.

Isabella turned to leave, feeling his gaze burn into her back. But just as she reached the door, Robert spoke again, his voice smooth yet laced with something unreadable.

"We've met before, haven't we?"

Isabella's breath caught. Slowly, she turned back to face him.

"What?"

She asked, her voice sharper than she intended.

Robert tilted his head slightly, studying her with those piercing blue eyes.

"You seem... familiar."

A chill ran down Isabella spine. Did he know? Was this some cruel game?

Or was she just imagining things?

She forced a smile.

"I think I'd remember meeting a billionaire."

Robert's lips curved slightly, but his eyes held an intensity that made her stomach tighten.

"Would you?"

Isabella swallowed. There was something in the way he said it like he was challenging her, daring her to reveal something.

"See you tomorrow, Mr. Thompson ," she said coolly, walking out before he could say another word.

But as she stepped into the elevator, her heart pounded in her chest.