Page 32 of The Forbidden Billionaire Attorney

“Backwards, upside down, inside out ...” I muse, leading her towards where my car is parked. “I think I skipped the instruction manual entirely.”

“Sounds about right for you,” she says, that fiery spirit crackling as she falls into step beside me. “You probably used it to prop up a wobbly table.”

“Guilty as charged,” I admit with a grin.

I press the key fob, and my SUV beeps to life, welcoming us with flashing lights.

“Come on,” I gesture, a silent invitation back into the chaos that is my life, which she seems strangely adept at navigating. “Let’s see if we can avoid any more surprises for one day.”

The leather of the driver’s seat hugs my back as Isabella slides into the passenger seat, her posture impeccable despite the cramped space. She manages to make the act of buckling a seatbelt look like a carefully choreographed ballet movement. I start the engine and pull away from the curb, still processing the revelation that Leo, of all people, is playing houseagain.

“Let’s not hit any pedestrians,” Isabella says dryly, her gaze fixed ahead as if she’s expecting me to turn this midday drive into a demolition derby.

“Disappointed in my driving?” I ask, feigning hurt. “I’ll have you know I’ve been accident-free for—”

The chirp of my phone interrupts, and I glance at the caller ID flashing “Caleb’s School” before answering.

“Hold that thought.” I hit “Answer” on my CarPlay. “Adrian Cole speaking.”

“Mr. Cole? It’s Mrs. Warner, Caleb’s teacher.” The worry in her voice slices through the conversation like a hot knife through butter.

“Is everything okay with Caleb?”

“Afraid we have an issue. Caleb’s holed up in a bathroom stall. He’s refusing to come out. My teacher’s assistant is covering for me right now, but I haven’t been able to convince him to come back to class.”

My chest tightens, and I shoot a glance at Isabella.

“Go,” she urges, her sharp green eyes softening with an understanding I hadn’t expected. “We can head there now, on the way back to the office.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to drag you into—”

“Adrian,” she cuts in, her tone brooking no argument. “Just go.”

“Thanks. Mrs. Warner, we’ll be there in about ten minutes.” Relief washes over me, and I swerve the car toward Caleb’s school.

“See you then, Mr. Cole,” is the last thing she says before she hangs up.

“Sorry about the detour,” I tell Isabella after ending the call. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Hardly,” she replies with a dismissive wave of her hand. “You can’t keep him waiting. He needs his dad.”

Ten minutes pass by in a blur when we pull up to the school, and it’s like a punch in the gut—the same swoop of worry I felt when Caleb took his first steps, like at any second he might fall. Isabella doesn’t hesitate; she’s out of the car before I even kill the engine.

“I’ll come with you,” she says, and there’s this fierce determination in her eyes that makes me believe she could single-handedly take on the whole school if she needed to.

“Thanks,” I mutter, my stomach doing somersaults as we stride toward the main office.

Mrs. Warner is already waiting for us, lines of concern etched into her face. She’s a saint, really, handling thirty kids with the patience of a Zen master.

“Mr. Cole,” she says as soon as we walk up to her. “Follow me. Here’s the way.” She gestures toward a boys’ bathroom, and we’re moving in a matter of seconds.

“Can you catch me up to speed?”

“A few kids in class taunted Caleb over his missing tooth. I intervened, but he still bolted for the bathroom. Hasn’t come out for an hour,” she finishes, her voice tinged with helplessness.

“Thanks, Mrs. Warner. I’ll handle it from here.” I try to sound confident, but my heart’s racing as we approach the boys’ bathroom.

I can hear Caleb sniffing from inside the stall, my little guy trying to be tough.

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