Page 45 of The Forbidden Billionaire Attorney

“Right.” I nod, shoving my hands into my pockets. “Still, I just want to make sure Caleb gets it—that this isn’t your typical picket-fence scenario.”

“Adrian,” she pauses, searching my face with those emerald eyes, “we’re not exactly a Hallmark movie poster couple. He’ll understand.”

“Hope so.” The words are heavier than I intend them to be, an anchor sinking fast. “Anyway, thanks for dinner.”

“Thank you for gnocchi and tiramisu diplomacy,” she quips, that flicker of humor dimming the tension a little.

“Always a pleasure, Counselor.” I try for lightness, but it comes out strained.

“Goodnight, Adrian.” She turns, heading for her building, and I watch her silhouette blend into the shadows until the door closes behind her.

Back in the car, I glance at Caleb once more, his innocence so refreshing compared to the complexity of adult life. As I pull away from the curb, the quiet feels thick, every streetlight casting long shadows that seem to stretch out questions we’re both avoiding. How long can we dance around each other, pretending the music isn’t slowing down, edging us closer with every beat?

Chapter seventeen

Isabella

Amelie and I saunter through Melrose, the late-morning sun high-fiving our backs like we’re old friends. Not that I have time for sunbathing—weekends are for catch-up work—but Amelie practically dragged me out of my cave today. The quaint shops blur together until my feet hit an invisible brake pad at the sight of a shop window dressed in pastel and lace.

“Look, Amelie. Tiny clothes,” I murmur, my voice a mix of wonder and dread. It’s like looking into a crystal ball filled with spit-up and lullabies.

“Want to go in?” Amelie asks, elbowing me like she’s found my secret stash of chocolate.

I crack a smile but shake my head, no. My mind’s a courtroom where emotions battle logic, and right now, logic’s holding the gavel. “I can’t even think about anything baby-related right now. Things with Adrian ... they’re getting complicated.” There, I said it. My heart’s been playing hopscotch over that line for weeks.

“Complicated how?” Her eyes are all concerned, ready to pounce on any problem with a vengeance.

“Feelings,” I confess, watching as a couple coos over a pair of booties so small, I can’t believe they’re real. “Mine for him. at least. They’re growing roots, deep ones.”

Amelie nods like a guru atop a mountain of wisdom. “But?”

“But,” I continue, “there’s fear. A whole lot of it. If Adrian and I crash and burn, there’s more than our ashes at stake.” The thought of our child caught in the crossfire sends icy shivers down my spine. “And then there’s my job. If workplace gossip gets wind of a love saga, my reputation is toast. I’ll be known as the lawyer who hooked up with her boss, and I’ll never be taken seriously enough to become partner.”

“Isabella King, the unshakeable,” Amelie teases. “Always calculating the risks.”

“I prefer ‘strategically cautious’,” I retort, but her words stick. Maybe I am playing it safe, hiding behind spreadsheets and case files instead of diving heart-first into whatever this is with Adrian.

We walk on, each step feeling heavier than the last. Amelie grabs my arm, pulling me to a halt outside the bakery that smells sinfully good. “You’ve got your shields up,” she says softly. “But sometimes, you’ve gotta let someone see the knight underneath all that armor.”

“Cheesy metaphors … really?” I try to laugh it off, but she’s got a point.

“Love isn’t logical, Isabella,” she insists. “It’s messy and terrifying, but it might just be worth it.”

“Easy for you to say,” I mumble, biting back a wave of what-ifs. What if Adrian’s the answer to questions I didn’t know I was asking?

“Take a chance, Isabella,” she urges. “Lead with your heart.”

“Can’t I just draft a contract instead?” I joke weakly, but my heart’s already drafting its own terms.

She shakes her head. “I’ll support whatever you decide, but I think it’s time to consider that this ten-year plan of yours isn’t what your heart really wants after all.”

I simmer on this for a moment. My career has always come first. Pursuing my dreams, making my parents proud. A guy has never come along and made me want to take a shot at playing house. But Adrian makes me wonder if I could successfully balance both a career and a family.

“I have to go, Bells. Remember I’m here for you, okay?”

We part ways in the parking lot, her car heading in one direction while my thoughts run in another. My thumb hovers over the unlock button on my key fob when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I fish it out to see a message from Adrian lighting up the screen. “Got something for you and the little one. Can we meet?” My heart does a traitorous leap, even as my brain rolls its eyes at the sentiment.

“Sure,” I text back, the practical part of me thinking about schedules and logistics. “My place in ten?”

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