Page 155 of Theirs to Possess: The Marriage Claim
Brennan wraps me in his arms, and moments later, an oversize SUV stops next to us. Brennan opens the back door and ushers me inside. He instantly follows and closes us in.
The driver guns the engine, leaving behind the gathered crowd.
I don’t look at them.
Instead, I collapse against the seat back, trying to drag my breathing back under control.
“Are you okay?”
Even though I try to answer, I can’t. Maybe I should have expected things like that to happen, but I still think of myself as a teacher that no one could possibly be interested in.
But now I’m married to a man who wants to rule the world. And my other lover is a known criminal.
“Isla?” Brennan uncaps a fizzy water and hands the cold glass bottle to me, pressing it between my palms. “Talk to me.”
For a few moments, as we drive back to the penthouse, I just sit there, dazed.
“Isla?”
After a few deep breaths, I look at him. His brows are drawn together, and he’s staring at me without moving.
Since that second text, my life has been out of control. I hate the feeling, and I don’t want to live this way.
“Are you okay? For fuck’s sake. Please say something.” He rakes a hand through his hair. “Dorian’s going to goddamn-well kill me.”
Finally I look at him. “What was that man talking about?”
“Isla… Look?—”
“Don’t.” My voice is sharper than I intended, edged with resolution. “You’ve gotten away with your distractions and half answers for the last time.”
“It’s part of the past. Nothing important.”
I cross my arms. “Nothings don’t get cameras broken, and we both know it.”
Drawing a breath, I look him in the eyes. “Who is Lena Ludwig?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Isla
By the time we step off the elevator, I’m so chilled that I’m almost shaking.
My goose bumps have nothing to do with the gust of air-conditioning that bites my bare skin when I enter the penthouse. They’re from the camera lens that was shoved in my face. From the question about Lena. From the way Brennan threatened the man and clamped his hand around my waist and shoved me into the limo.
He clicks the door shut behind us. A mechanical beep assures us the alarm is set.
But now… The peace and quiet is almost jarring.
The penthouse’s marble floors gleam in the afternoon light. Beyond the glass walls, Houston’s skyline looms, a solid as ever.
Yet I don’t feel relief that I’m home. Instead, I feel…disoriented. Like I’ve stepped into a beautiful lie I no longer believe in.
Brennan is already halfway across the room, pulling out his phone.
“Who was that man?” I ask.
He shakes his head and swipes the screen without responding.
