"Lex?"

Isabelle came slowly, tentatively into Lex's office, too agitated even to notice the rose that he had left for her on the billiard table, a gesture so out of character that it would normally have warmed her heart in a moment. She called again, but almost before the word was out of her mouth he was strolling through the door with his usual air of appealing arrogance, wearing a dark purple dress shirt, slate gray tie, and an expensive looking thigh length suit. Looking every bit Metropolis old money, giving the equally well dressed woman in front of him the familiar feeling that she was under-dressed for the occasion. But this time the sensation went by almost unnoticed, disguised so well by the turmoil that had whelled up inside her. He passed her, stopping at the billiard table and picking up the flower with a wicked half grin, raising his eyebrows a little and offering it to her.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked genially, taking a step in Isabelle's direction. This was the traditional Luthor cool act, when he would talk to her, tease her with a charming vocabulary of silky, formal phrases, then put his arms smoothly around her waist and kiss her the way only a multimillionaire with his kind of experience could. And as these thoughts went through her mind, it hurt even more. He finished his opening flattery and stopped dead, his expression faltering a little, his eyes growing steely and suspicious - the standard Luthor reaction to uncertainty.

"Is something wrong?" he asked with cool concern. Isabelle had been through a lot in her short life, and had delt with every emotion in the book, yet somehow she wasn't able to keep her cool for more than ten seconds. One look from him and she was in pieces, holding back the tears of terror and self-hatred that so badly needed to fall.

"I have to tell you something." she hesitated, and he tilted his head to one side. "There's something about me…something bad…that I thought you'd figure out as soon as we met, and every day that we've been together I've been more and more surprised, more and more relieved that you haven't seen through me. And I hate myself, Lex, I hate myself for lying to you. But you have to believe me, that if I didn't regret every second of it I wouldn't be telling you this."

"I'm confused," he said, still cool and calm, with a little condescension - as though now that he knew it was a matter of him not having known something about her, it couldn't possibly be as detrimental as she thought it was. "What's this truly awful thing that you've done?" he reached out an arm and curled his fingers around her shoulder, drawing her a little nearer to him for comfort. But she shrugged him off, raising her voice to a frustrated wimper that was oddly firm.

"No, Lex - you don't understand!" she turned sharply and marched towards the desk, collapsing into the chair opposite his plush leather seat and folding almost double as she started to sob. "It's my father."

Lex followed, kneeling beside her and taking her hand in his. "Your father?" he was still so controlled and confident that she almost couldn't bare to go through with it. "I find it hard to believe that he could be a serious threat."

"Why didn't you check up on me Lex?" she demanded "I've never known you to let a single thing get by you unchecked, unscrutinized - you were never supposed to fall in love with me like this." she stopped and lowered her voice to a whisper. "I was never supposed to fall in love with you."

"I don't understand." he replied, starting to sound concerned.

"My father owns MetroPharm." she was almost shouting it at him, jumping to her feet as her frustration spilled out of her.

"What?" Lex's face twisted into a composed mechanical sort of distress as he got to his feet and followed her into the middle of the room. Isabelle dropped her head down in unbarable shame and continued in soft agony.

"He owns MetroPharm. And I'm working for him."

She didn't want to say the words any more than Lex wanted to hear them, and immediately he became more heated than she had ever seen him, all the time retaining the infamous Luthorian ability to circle and intimidate a business opponent.

The problem was that she knew he loved her and that he was angry because Lex Luthor didn't let down his guard for anybody, but that something had made him disregard it for her. It crossed Isabelle's mind that this was probably the reason her father had picked her for the job. The thought that Lex really cared about her - or had done at least - comforted Isabelle for a moment; reassured her. She knew that personal affairs had just become merged with those of business and that if he hadn't been held back by any regard he felt for her, Lex might very well have raised his voice, his hand, maybe even hit her. As it was, there was fire in his eyes, but just then he looked too broken to see her for what she really was or take it out on her physically. Besides, she told herself, Lex Luthor was a gentleman, even when he was pissed off. Instead his tone remained hideously controlled.

"MetroPharm." he repeated. "That's interesting. And let me guess," he started to circle her again. "It was your father who sent you here, to gain something incriminating against me or sniff out files that would allow him to predict the movements of LutherCorp?" he smiled. He really thought he'd got her figured out. Isabelle shook her head slowly.

"I was sent by my father to…" she faltered. "To get close to you, and sleep with you." she paused. "And go back to him with the physical evidence." she stopped again and looked up at him, hardly daring to make eye contact.

"So you were going to claim rape?" Lex looked duelly confused now, realising as she knew he would that they had already slept together. She shook her head, feeling suddenly very dirty.

"Lex, I'm seventeen."

His mouth literally dropped open, though he tried to hide it, and had the situation not been what it was she might almost have been pleased to have been the cause of this momentary lapse of control.

"I think you'd better leave, Isabelle." he said, his tone cold but more bewildered than she'd ever heard it.

"Wait - Lex." she said quickly as he turned away from her and walked towards the door. "Please." He stopped. "If I'd wanted to I could have had you in jail by now." That got his attention. He didn't move, his back still to her, but now at least she knew he was listening. "I didn't know who my father was until I was ten years old - all I knew was an excessive child support payment every month that kept my family in a nice and house and a good neighbourhood. And then when my mom died he was forced to be a part of my life and to take care of this child that he never wanted anything to do with. And all I've done since then is seek his approval - try to make him notice me. Can you even imagine how I felt when he asked me to take care of a business matter for him? Lex, I didn't care what he was asking me to do, all I cared about was the fact that he was acknowledging my existence. I felt like this was finally my chance to prove that I could be as tenacious and reckless as he wanted me to be." she took a long breath. "He arranged it all. The night we met was arranged to look like an accident, and at every opportunity my father had me accidentally meet you at some social gathering or other, just pushing to have you thinking about me all the time until you thought you were feeling something. And then the first time I slept with you, I remember waking up the next morning and feeling like nothing mattered to me except you. Whenever you kissed me or held me or looked at me I felt safe - I felt secure, Lex, and I've never felt that way before. I've always just been struggling along and trying to figure it all out. And I couldn't do it."

Isabelle looked up to see that Lex had turned slowly around and was staring at her cautiously. She let her voice drop and falter with the emotion that she had been struggling to hold back. "I couldn't do it."

"It's a touching story." he replied, about to continue when she cried out

"Lex - don't you understand? If I'd wanted to go back to my father I'd have had enough opportunities. I've been telling him that you're too much of a gentleman and we haven't done anything yet, but he's been getting suspicious."

And then there was that horrible, wounding look on his face. The one that convinced Isabelle he might actually be starting to believe her. The one that forced her to admit she was in trouble.