Chapter 27 Shadows at the Table
Isabella’s POV
Alexander’s footsteps echoed as he turned from the closet door, his silhouette sharp against the soft light spilling from the room beyond. My hands still clutched the sagging bodice of the wedding dress, the lace heavy against my trembling fingers, my skin prickling where his touch had burned.
I glared at his back, fury and shame warring in my chest, but he didn’t look back , just paused, hands sliding from his pockets, voice cutting through the silence.
“Get dressed,” he said, low and firm, not a request but a command. “We’re expected downstairs.”
I swallowed hard, throat tight, and nodded stiffly , knowing he couldn’t see it, knowing he didn’t care. He stepped out, leaving the door ajar, and I let out a shaky breath, turning to the racks of clothes.
My fingers fumbled over silk and cotton, settling on a simple navy dress , soft, loose, a stark contrast to the suffocating gown.
I slipped it on, the fabric cool against my flushed skin, and smoothed it down, avoiding the mirror.
I didn’t want to see myself , not the flushed cheeks, not the stranger staring back.
When I emerged, he was waiting , leaning against the wall, arms crossed, gray eyes flicking over me with that same piercing scrutiny. His smirk was gone, replaced by a steady, unreadable gaze that made my stomach twist. Without a word, he extended his hand.
I hesitated, my pulse spiking. “I can walk on my own,” I muttered, voice sharp despite the tremor in it.
His jaw tightened, a faint tic in the muscle, and his hand didn’t waver. “Take it,” he said, voice dropping, a velvet threat laced with steel. “Now.”
Reluctantly, I slid my hand into his, his fingers closing around mine , firm, unyielding, a quiet claim that made my skin crawl and my traitor pulse jump. He tugged me forward, guiding me down the wide staircase, his hold a leash I couldn’t break.
The dining room hummed with warmth as we entered, the chandelier’s glow casting flickers across the polished table.
Evelyn stood near the head, arranging a platter with a smile that lit the room, while James reclined with his whiskey, smirking faintly.
Ava’s sharp gray eyes tracked us from her seat, her expression a mask of cool curiosity.
The air smelled of rosemary and roasted meat, a stark contrast to the tension coiling in my gut.
“There you are!” Evelyn’s voice chirped, bright and eager, as she turned to us. Her smile widened, hands clasping together. “Oh, Isabella, that dress is lovely , much more you, I think.”
Alexander released my hand, but his fingers lingered a beat too long, brushing my wrist before he pulled out my chair. I sat, spine stiff, forcing a small smile. “Thank you,” I said, voice quieter than I intended, guilt gnawing at me for the lie she didn’t see.
Evelyn settled across from us, beaming as servers set plates of steaming food , lamb, potatoes, glazed carrots , before us. “I’m just so thrilled,” she said, her voice bubbling over.
“I’m just so thrilled,” Evelyn said, glowing.
“Isabella, I still can’t believe Alexander kept you hidden from us for so long. My twins are always full of surprises.”
She laughed and gestured between Alexander and Ava.
“He told me about you only a few days ago. Just walked in and said, ‘Oh, Mom, I’m getting married.’ As if he were announcing a board meeting.”
James nearly spit out his drink. “That’s a very kind version, Evelyn. It was more like, ‘Mother, clear your calendar. I’ve decided to marry.’ No emotion. No buildup. Just… royal proclamation.”
Alexander didn’t even turn his head. “James.”
“What?” James raised his hands, innocent. “I’m being accurate. The man has the romance of a tax report.”
Ava laughed into her wine glass.
Evelyn shook her head fondly. “I can never keep up with my twins. They keep me young.” She smiled warmly. “But I’m happy. That’s all that matters.”
My mind jumped back to the courthouse. Ava had called him “big brother.” If they were twins, then why ,
James leaned forward, clearly delighted. “Ah yes. The famous two-minute advantage.” He pointed his fork at Alexander. “He’s been living off that since the delivery room.”
“Twins?” I asked before I could stop myself. My voice came out softer than I meant. I set my fork down and looked from Evelyn to Ava.
Evelyn’s eyes lit up. “Oh yes. Didn’t he tell you? Alexander and Ava were born minutes apart. My little miracles.” She reached over and patted Alexander’s hand.
He shifted slightly at the touch. His face stayed calm, but his eyes flicked to me for a brief second. Watching. Measuring.
“Minutes apart?” I repeated, frowning as the courthouse scene replayed in my head. “But Ava called you ‘big brother.’ I thought…”
I stopped myself.
Heat crept up my neck as I realized how that would sound. If his mother heard me question something that basic, she might wonder why I didn’t even know that about the man I was marrying. It would make this whole thing look strange. Suspicious.
Ava smirked and leaned back in her chair, swirling the wine in her glass.
“He came out first,” she said casually. “Two minutes before me. And he’s never let me forget it.”
She took a small sip, amusement clear in her eyes.
“As kids, he treated those two minutes like a royal title. Decided that made him the ‘big brother.’ Said it gave him authority.” She rolled her eyes lightly. “He hated not being in charge.”
She rolled her eyes, but the smirk softened into something warmer, a flicker of nostalgia softening her sharp edges.
“He’d tell me , four years old, picture it , that he had to be the older one because he needed to protect his ‘baby sister.’ Same age, mind you, but he’d puff out his little chest and say, ‘Your big brother’s here, Ava, don’t worry.’ I let it stick ,
mostly because he got such a kick out of hearing it.”
Evelyn laughed, clapping her hands with delight. “Oh, he adored it! He’d trail after her everywhere , her little knight in shining armor, tripping over his own feet half the time. Two peas in a pod, those two , always scheming, always bickering.”
The image jarred me, refusing to settle , not with the man beside me, cold and commanding, who’d forced me into this gilded cage. Protector? The word scraped against my throat, foreign and rough, clashing with the memory of his hand tightening around it in the car.
Yet Ava’s tone , warm, teasing, laced with affection , sketched a boy I couldn’t square with the predator I knew, his gray eyes watching me even now, unyielding and deep.
Dessert arrived , a chocolate torte, rich and velvety, paired with a red wine Evelyn pressed into my hand with a grin. “Alexander’s favorite,” she said, pouring it herself, the crimson liquid catching the candlelight like spilled blood.
I took a tentative sip, the bitter edge curling over my tongue, and glanced up , his stare locked on me again, head tilted slightly, watching me swallow with an intensity that made my hand tremble.
The glass clinked sharply against the table as I set it down, and I sliced into the torte with unsteady precision, the sweetness cloying, lodging in my throat. He didn’t speak , just watched, gray eyes boring into me, a silent claim I couldn’t shake.
The night went on. Wine loosened James’s tongue, and he started telling a loud story about a college prank involving a professor’s car and too much beer.
To my surprise, Alexander laughed. Not the cold smirk I was used to. A real laugh. Low and rough. It caught me off guard.
I smiled when I was supposed to. Nodded at the right moments. Played the part.
Evelyn’s laughter slowly faded. She turned to me, her eyes bright.
“I always knew he’d find someone special,” she said warmly. “And here you are. Tell me about yourself, Isabella. Your family. I want to know everything.”
My stomach dropped. The dessert in my mouth suddenly tasted like nothing.
I set my fork down and folded my hands in my lap so she wouldn’t see them shake.
“There’s not much to tell,” I said carefully. I glanced at Alexander. He was watching me. Silent. Expecting me to keep the story clean.
I swallowed and looked back at Evelyn.
“My dad died when I was fifteen,” I said quietly. “My parents got married young. They were both seventeen. They married right after graduation. They grew up together.”
Evelyn’s expression softened at once. “Oh, sweetheart.”
“They were good together,” I continued. “Really good. They held hands in the kitchen. Danced in the living room when their song came on. They laughed a lot. I grew up thinking that was what marriage was supposed to look like. That’s the kind of love I always wanted.”
Evelyn’s eyes turned glossy. She reached for her napkin.
“I’m sure my son can give you that same kind of love,” she said gently.
“I know Alexander doesn’t show his feelings the way others do. You’ve probably noticed that already. But when he cares, he cares deeply. And I can see it. He wouldn’t even consider marriage if he wasn’t truly in love. He wouldn’t do this unless he was sure about you.”
I forced a small smile.
If only she knew.
She had no idea how cold he could be. No idea how many lies he had told to bring us here. No idea that I was standing in this room because I had been threatened.
Guilt twisted inside me. I felt bad for her. She looked so proud. So happy.
And she had no clue that her son was making me lie straight to her face.
Evelyn reached across the table and touched my hand gently. “Am so happy your here”,
But my father’s face stayed in my mind.
The way he used to smile at my mom.
The way he used to tell me I deserved a man who would protect me, not control me.
And across the table, Alexander watched me the entire time.