Page 38 of Our Darling Isabelle

A rectangle table stands in the middle of the room surrounded with chairs and as soon as Aden shuts the door, I take off my shoes, dropping into a chair with a satisfied sigh. Alec laughs, sitting beside me and reaching down to yank my feet up into his lap. I grab the table and back of the chair with a squeal, avoiding falling over the other side at the sudden movement.

“What are you doing?” I hiss and he just winks, massaging my aching feet. Markus sits in the chair behind me, bracing my back with one hand, and starts pulling pins out of my hair.

“Who put this shit in your hair? It’s so stiff.” He complains until my hair falls down around my shoulders and I nearly whimper at the tension leaving my scalp until my father clears his throat.

“If the two of you could keep your paws off my daughter for a moment, we have some things to discuss.” My father looks seconds away from blowing his fuse as he sits at the head of the table. Alec gently lowers my feet to the ground and smooths the skirt of my dress, but his eyes never leave mine. Markus sits casually, his arm thrown over the back of his chair as he looks at my father.

“The two of you know the courting traditions our families have obeyed by for generations. That stunt you pulled was a slap to the face of everyone here.” My father says.

“Did she accept a dance from anyone?” Alec asks, his tone obvious he already knows the answer. My father doesn’t answer and I sit froward with my head held high.

“I don’t care who courts me, I don’t want anyone but them.” I breathe. My father nods, leaning back in his chair and stretching his neck.

“That may be true, but you didn’t give a single other man a sliver of a chance. Your stare could have frozen most to a block of ice where they stood.” He tries to sound disappointed, but I can hear the amusement in his tone.

“You going to tell me any of those stuffy pricks down there are capable of keeping her happy and safe?” Markus asks, raising a brow as my father sighs, rubbing a hand over his graying beard as he stares at the ceiling.

“That is not what I am saying, but I also do not accept your proposal.” He huffs, turning to stare at me.

“Hold on a minute. They didn’t propose to you.” I say, crossing my arms.

“To be fair, they didn’t propose to you either.” Aden remarks, crossing his ankles where he leans against the wall and stares at us.

“Don’t throw your hat into a ring where you won’t make it out alive, boy,” Alec sneers, his lip curling as he stares him down. Vincent stomps his cane on the ground, getting everyone’s attention where he sits with exhaustion clear on his expression.

“Let’s hear what Isabelle thinks.” Vincent says, leaning back and nodding to me. Smiling at him, I sit up taller and clear my throat.

“I’m not going to accept any proposals for a business agreement, papa. That’s not a life I want. I’m sorry.” My throat feels tight as I drop my eyes to avoid the disappointment I’m so certain will be reflected in his. My father stands, slowly stepping around the table to hold his hand out for me. I take it and let him pull me to my feet. He tips my chin up with his finger and all I can see is adoration and compassion.

“Even though I may have missed you growing up, you will always be my little girl, Isabelle. I want you to marry for happiness. But I also want you to make the right choice, one you won’t come to regret.” He says, frowning at Markus before looking between the three of us.

“From your heart, without the pressure of what others may think or feel, who would make you happiest?” Vincent asks, leaning on his cane with a glimmer in his eye as he raises a brow. I hold my hand up, looking at the light reflecting off the ring on my finger. I bite my lip, unsure if I can say the words out loud.

“Belle?” Markus catches my attention, and he stands, slowly holding his hand out to me as if he’s afraid I’ll run. Alec watches me with cold curiosity, his arms crossed with muscles bulging until I think the fabric might rip from the pressure.

“Whatever you say, we will respect your decision,” he says, smiling softly as I take his hand and nod, wiping away a stray tear that drips down my cheek.

“Like Hell.” Alec says, staring at me with so much intensity I feel like I’ll combust at any moment. “Pick anybody else and I’ll slaughter him before he can say I do.” Alec says, his voice icy and full of promise. My father sighs, snatching the bottle of whiskey and a shot glass from the center of the table and mumbling under his breath. I roll my eyes at Alec. “You sound like a spoiled brat who always gets his way.” I smile down at him and he shakes his head, standing and shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Say yes, darling. Spend your life telling me just how terrible I am,” He whispers, leaning down until his breath brushes my ear.

“Let me spend my life showing you what a brat you are.” His husky voice raises goosebumps across my skin as I clench my thighs. Markus chuckles behind me, kissing my cheek before walking right up to my father and throwing an arm around him.

“Guess I should start calling you Papa, huh?” He beams and my father gives him a dumbfounded look.

“Don’t make her a widow before you’ve said your vows,” he warns, but Markus just throws his head back with a boisterous laugh, grinning at us.

“He’s unhinged.” Alec mumbles. I lean my head on his shoulder as he wraps his arm around me.

“You both are. But what does that make me, for marrying you?” I ask, and Alec chuckles, tipping my head back to brush his lips against mine.

“Fucking perfect, darling. It makes you ours,” He rumbles deep in his chest as his grip tightens.

“Our darling Isabelle.” Markus grins, eyes dragging over me as if he plans to devour me.

Prologue

Alec

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