Chapter 26 You Will Get To Know Her
Isabella’s POV
Alexander stepped out first, his effortless confidence unshaken, then reached for me. His hand closed around mine , firm, steady, cold yet deliberate , pulling me from the car. My feet hit the stone driveway, the chill seeping through my skin, grounding me as I straightened.
“Come on,” he murmured, grip tightening faintly, guiding me forward.
The front doors swung open before we reached them, golden light spilling across the steps. “Alexander!” Evelyn’s voice rang out, bright and joyful, slicing through the stillness. She hurried toward us, cream suit pristine, dark hair sleek, her smile radiant.
She looked ecstatic.
Alexander released me just in time to catch her hug. “Hey, Mom,” he said, voice softening , a rare lightness I hadn’t heard before.
She pulled back, hands on his arms, then turned to me, smile widening. “Isabella, sweetheart, you look stunning.”
Before I could respond, she enveloped me in a warm embrace, her floral perfume soft and comforting. My stomach twisted harder , I was lying to her. I forced a small smile as she stepped back. “Thank you,” I said, voice quieter than I meant.
Evelyn beamed, then sighed. “I’m sorry Sarah couldn’t join us. I invited her after the ceremony, hoping she’d celebrate with us, but she said she wasn’t feeling well and needed rest.”
I nodded, keeping my face neutral. Sarah hadn’t wanted to come, I couldn’t blame her. I didn’t want to be here either.
Oblivious, Evelyn looped her arm through Alexander’s, grinning up at him. “Come, everyone’s inside, James and Ava are waiting.”
His fingers brushed my lower back , a silent command , and I stepped forward, pulse quickening as we crossed into the Kingsley mansion.
The dining room was vast , a long table draped in white linen stretched beneath golden candlelight, tall windows framed by heavy drapes revealing the gardens beyond.
A chandelier cast a warm glow overhead. James lounged with a whiskey, grinning faintly, while Ava sat beside him, dark hair loose, her gray eyes flicking to me, unreadable.
“Sit, sit!” Evelyn waved us to seats near the table’s head, her voice warm. “Dinner’s ready.”
Alexander pulled out my chair, his hand brushing my arm , cold, firm, calculated.
I sat stiffly, the wedding dress weighing on me , white, breathtaking, its sheer lace sleeves heavy, the fitted bodice with its floral heart neckline constricting my chest like the lie I carried.
The mermaid tail trailed behind, ivory against the dread in my gut.
My hands folded tightly in my lap, tension biting into my fingers.
Evelyn sat across from us, clapping her hands. “I’m so happy for you both,” she said, voice rich with joy. “I’ve waited so long for this.”
Guilt stabbed me, sharp and deep , Ava’s narrow gaze didn’t help. The room shrank under too many eyes, too much chatter, my nerves buzzing loud.
James leaned forward, swirling his drink, his grin wry. “Well, you two look… cozy already. How’s married life treating you?”
Alexander smirked, hand resting on my chair’s back , close, possessive, suffocating.
“Perfect,” he said smoothly, eyes flicking to me.
But his gaze lingered, narrowing as I shifted, the dress digging into my ribs.
He saw it , the stiffness, the discomfort.
“Isabella,” he said, voice lowering, edged with control yet almost gentle, “do you want to change? You don’t look… settled in that dress.”
My heart raced , I nodded fast, voice a whisper. “Yes,” I snapped, hating how small it sounded, a flicker of rebellion against the gown’s weight.
Evelyn smiled, oblivious. “There are clothes upstairs, dear. Pick something comfortable.”
Alexander stood, his hand brushing my shoulder , firm, guiding , motioning me to follow.
I rose, the dress dragging, heavy and tight, a burden I needed gone.
We left the room , James’s grin, Ava’s stare, Evelyn’s joy trailing us , as we climbed the wide stairs, lace sleeves tightening with each step.
He led me to a plush room , soft lights, rich furniture , then opened a door to a sprawling walk-in closet.
Racks of dresses, shelves of jewelry, shoes gleaming under bright lights , like a boutique I didn’t belong in.
I stepped inside, hands shaky, reaching for the zipper.
I needed this dress off , now , but it stuck.
My fingers fumbled, panic rising as the bodice squeezed my chest.
I didn’t want his help , couldn’t bear him seeing me like this , but it wouldn’t budge.
I tugged harder, breath quickening, lace rustling.
Footsteps approached, his voice cutting through , calm, with a faint edge. “Isabella, you okay?”
I froze, back to him, hands on the zipper. Before I could answer, he stepped in, his reflection locking onto mine in the mirror , sharp, reading my hunched shoulders, my tight jaw. He moved behind me, close , too close , my body tensing, heat rushing to my face as his presence pressed in.
“Let me help,” he murmured, voice low and smooth, sending a shiver down my spine.
I wanted to snap , push him away , but my throat seized, words trapped.
My skin prickled where his breath grazed my neck, warm against the cold dread in my gut.
I hated his looming shadow swallowing mine.
His fingers brushed my nape, finding the zipper.
I stiffened, breath catching as his knuckles grazed my spine , cool against the flare of heat.
Don’t react, I screamed inside, nails biting my palms, but my shoulders trembled, a shudder he felt.
The zipper rasped down, slow and controlled, parting the fabric inch by inch, cold air hitting my back.
I bit my lip to choke a gasp, his hands firm, guiding the dress open , not lingering, but heavy with intent.
In the mirror, his gray eyes pierced mine , dark, unrelenting, a predator’s gaze claiming every falter.
His jaw flexed, hunger flickering, possession carved into his stare.
“Relax,” he ordered, voice rough, a command wrapped in velvet. His fingers paused at my spine’s base, the dress sagging loose. “You’re shaking.”
I was , and I hated him for it, for standing there so calm while I unraveled. “Stop,” I rasped, weak but sharp, jerking forward, clutching the bodice, spinning to face him. “I can handle it.”
His smirk curled , dark, amused , gray eyes raking me, taunting.
“Can you?” he said, stepping closer, voice thick with certainty.
His hand lifted, fingers brushing my jaw, tipping my chin up.
“You’ll stop fighting me, Isabella. Sooner or later, you’ll come to me.”
His thumb grazed my lip, a jolt I couldn’t hide. “And you’ll wonder why you resisted.”
I yanked back, fury and fear clashing with that cursed heat. “Never,” I spat, voice hard despite the tremble. “I’ll never want you.”
His smirk deepened, cold and knowing. “We’ll see,” he said, stepping back, hands in pockets, leaving me clutching the dress, skin burning, mind raging at my body’s betrayal.