Page 64 of The Forbidden Billionaire Attorney

Chapter twenty-six

Adrian

2Years Later

I watch Caleb chase Rosalie through the sprinklers, his laughter a soundtrack to our life now. It’s a symphony of joy that drowns out the echoes of the everyday stresses that work brings. The Hollywood Hills hold us in their ritzy embrace, our two-story home a massive upgrade from both my Beverly Hills abode with Caleb and Isabella’s two-bedroom apartment.

As Isabella stands beside me, her green eyes reflecting the golden sunset, I can’t help but feel like the luckiest man alive. I take one look at her in a shade of crimson red lipstick and a form-fitting black dress that makes her eyes pop.

I turn to her. “Hey, you look good.”

She tries to hide it, but I catch her blushing. “It’s our anniversary. Figured I shouldn’t show up in a pencil skirt.” Her eyes sweep over me. “You look nice yourself.”

I tug at my black dress shirt and matching pants. “Figured it was a step up from my work attire.”

We both gaze back out at the kids. “Look at them go,” Isabella says, her voice warm with maternal pride. “Caleb’s going to sleep well tonight.”

“Let’s hope so,” I reply, the corner of my mouth lifting in a half-smile. “Especially since your mom is on duty.”

Isabella nudges me playfully. “Be nice. She’s a godsend.”

“True. Without her, we wouldn’t be stepping out for our anniversary. She believed in us more than anyone in the beginning.” I scoop Rosalie into my arms as she barrels toward us, her giggles infectious. “Okay, speed demon. Time to power down. Take a bath and be good for Grandma. Your mom and I will see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Night-night, Daddy!” She wraps her little arms around my neck, planting a sloppy kiss on my cheek.

“Night-night, angel.” I set her back on her feet, and she scampers off to where my mother has already wrangled Caleb for his nightly routine.

“Two years,” I muse aloud, taking Isabella’s hand in mine.

“I know. Seems like just yesterday you were schooling me on courtroom etiquette,” she teases. “And you were charming every jury with your smug little grin,” she retorts, though her eyes dance with mirth.

“Hey, it’s not smug. It’s ... endearingly confident.”

“Sure, let’s go with that,” she said with a laugh, linking her arm through mine as we head toward the car.

The drive down the winding roads feels shorter than usual, anticipation thrumming between us. I catch Isabella casting curious glances my way, probably wondering why I’m grinning like a Cheshire cat with a secret.

“Adrian Cole, what are you up to?” Her suspicion is as clear as the L.A. sky on asmog-free day.

“Who, me? Up to something?” I feign innocence, which only makes her more suspicious. Classic Isabella, always reading me like the fine print on a contract.

“Alright, Mr. Enigmatic. Keep your secrets,” she huffs, though the twinkle in her eye tells me she loves the mystery.

When we arrive at Lumiere West, one of Isabella’s favorite restaurants, the engine purrs to a halt, and I kill the headlights. We sit for a moment in silence, bathed in the soft hue of streetlights. Isabella’s gaze is fixed on the restaurant, her brows knitting together in puzzlement.

“Adrian, it looks closed,” she murmurs, a hint of concern lacing her voice.

“Does it?” I reply nonchalantly, hiding a smirk as I pop open the door and step out into the cool evening air.

“Wait here.” I circle the car with a swagger I reserve for courtroom victories and moments like these. Her door opens with a gentle creak, and I extend my hand, an invitation to step into the unknown.

“Adrian ...” She hesitates, hand hovering over mine, her eyes searching the dimly lit entrance for signs of life.

“Trust me,” I say, a promise wrapped in two words.

With a sigh that tells me she’s surrendering to the whimsy of the night, her fingers slip into mine. The click of her heels against the pavement is a steady drumbeat as we approach the doors.

“Surprise,” I whisper, pushing them open to reveal an oasis of candlelight flickering across an otherwise shadowed room.

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