Page 113 of Theirs to Possess: The Marriage Claim
Is she for real?
Pride swells, hot and fierce. She’s brilliant, and she doesn’t even know it.
“She’s too young,” Brennan adds.
“That’s what people said about Kennedy,” Everett counters.
Isla’s lips part, and I can’t tell if she’s stunned or flattered.
“You agree with Celeste?”
“Isla’s your best shot at any of this.”
“She needs to be seen, not hidden.” Celeste locks her gaze on me, daring me to argue.
Celeste interrupts the conversation by signaling to the waitstaff.
Instantly our dishes are cleared, crumbs are scraped from the table, fresh pots of coffee and tea are delivered, along with a small plate of the dining room’s signature bourbon pralines.
“We do need to finesse the language around the…switch at the altar,” Celeste says. “Before it becomes a liability.”
“True love,” Everett says. “The public’ll eat that shit up. As long as the sister will go along with it?”
“I imagine she will,” Isla says.
Brennan’s jaw tightens, and he moves his hand toward Isla’s. He hates this as much as I do. We want her safe, tucked away from the vultures, the rumors, the nastiness.
“We could have a partnership with local libraries.” Isla moves her hands as she speaks, and her gesture is alive with passion.
Stunned, I watch her, seeing her not just as mine but as a force—magnetic, viable, dangerous in her own right. She’s more than I ever dreamed, and it terrifies me.
When she’s done, Everett sighs. “The question isn’twillit get ugly. It’show fast.Andhow much of your soul are you willing to sell to stay in it?”
The table falls silent.
Then Isla speaks, her voice calm and measured. “But we do stand a chance?”
We.
That one word detonates inside me. I turn to her, and there’s no fear in her eyes. Just fire.
Everett opens his mouth, probably to deliver some version ofnot really,but Celeste speaks over him, all silk and certainty.
“Absolutely.” She looks at Isla. “Because of you.”
I hate that my wife is part of this whole thing. I want toshield her from the vipers, but Celeste is right. Isla’s our edge, a magnet for hearts and votes.
“I believe in Dorian.”
She doesn’t elaborate. She doesn’t need to. Her tone slices through the doubt like a guillotine.
When Everett remains silent, she goes on. “I thought you were the Oracle. Able to see things others can’t. A way forward, perhaps?”
Jesus.My wife is a formidable opponent.
In a few years, she’ll be as much of a barracuda as Celeste Fallon is. Unaccountably I’m glad she’s on my side.
Everett adjusts his tie, lips twitching. “Well. I’m not a goddamn miracle worker.”
