Chapter 11: The Path to Us
1168 Words
"Hi, Isabella, this is Attorney James Whitmore. I’m calling concerning the terms of your marriage contract. There've been some changes."
The words ripped through the moment between us.
I grabbed the phone harder, my heart beating fast. “A… what?”
“A development,” he explained. “It’s important we discuss it as soon as possible.”
I turned, looking at Alexander. His face was opaque, but his shoulders stiffened, his stance altering as if preparing for a blow.
I swallowed. “Is it so urgent that it cannot wait?”
For some moment, there wasn't any reaction. Then, “I would advise against waiting too long.”
“Fine,” I replied, my voice stronger than ever. “Try by all means to be at my office tomorrow,”
“Understood. Have a nice night, Isabella.” The call ended.
I breathed, lowering the phone. The space suddenly seemed too small, the walls pushing in.
Alexander’s voice was cool and controlled. “What did he say?”
I paused, wondering if he wasn't the one that wanted to surprise me. “Something about the contract,” I answered.
His chin twitched, his hands going into his pockets. “ I think my father is involved because I don't have an idea of what is going on”
The thought sent a shudder down my spine. “Would he do something like that?”
Alexander gave out a sour chuckle. “He’d burn the world if it meant staying in control.”
A silence stretched between us, filled with confusion.
“Let's not allow my father to dictate our moments. "He’s stolen enough from me. He came nearer, close enough for his warmth to sweep away my pain. "I think we need to move somewhere.”
A struggle raged within me. Every impulse shouted at me to be careful, to shield myself. But hadn’t I done it long enough? Hadn’t I lived behind my walls, hesitant to allow anybody in?
I took a breath and forced myself to let go—just a bit. “Okay.”
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Fifteen minutes later, we arrive at a yard, a private table set with flowers on it. The flower smelled nice.
I glanced at the arrangement; my heart tumbled with amazement. “You… did this?”
Alexander smiles. “Surprised?”
“A surprise,” I said, still trying to digest everything.
We sat down, and a server served us wine before sneaking away. For the first time, we merely ate in peace, the calm hum of the night filling the space between us.
Halfway through the lunch, Alexander went into his pocket and pulled out a little silk box.
I was nervous. “What’s that?” but he didn't say anything.
He flipped it open, showing a tiny silver chain at its heart snuggled with a small, deep-blue diamond.
For a long while, I couldn’t say anything but look at him.
He held it out to me. “It was my mother’s treasure and last gift to me.”
My head got hit. “Alexander—”
“I want you to have it.”
I swallowed hard. “That’s… not something you just give away.”
His eyes softened. “I know.”
Something broke in my chest, something raw and painful. “Why me?”
His fingers brushed the edge of the box. “Because I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. About us.”
My heart slammed against my ribs. “And?”
His throat bobbed. “And I don’t want this to be just a contract anymore.”
The words snatched the air from my lungs.
“I fought it,” he said, his voice low. All I could do was the idea of the happening and that it wasn't real.
” You deserve more than this"
I blinked. “Like what?”
He sighed as if considering whether to say it. Then, softly—“You worth Bella, you worth everything I own.
I grabbed for the necklace.“This is important to you, Alexander, you know that.”
His stare was intense. “So are you too, my love.”
The honesty in his words crushed something within me.
I paused, then nodded. “Okay.”
A tiny spark of relief ran across his features. He stood up, walked behind me, and gently put the chain over my neck.
When he clutched it, he said, “I’m not romantic, but I figured this might help.”
A giggle slipped me, soft and surprising. “You figured right.”
But before the moment could settle, the door to the terrace was flung open.
We both turned—just in time to see Richard Steele rush inside.
The tension in the room dropped.
“Father,” Alexander answered coolly.
Richard’s glance moved across the table, then settled on me. “I see you’re getting comfortable.”
I was nervous. The guy had a presence—cold, commanding, smothering.
Alexander crossed his arms. “What do you want?”
Richard didn’t give him a look. Instead, his stare held me down. “It’s time to stop pretending, Miss Isabella. You and my son will make a public statement about your marriage. This sham has gone on long enough.”
My stomach twisted.
Alexander’s voice was steel. “We are not answerable to you.”
Richard let out a dry laugh. “Oh, but you do. I own your tale, son. I will tell you, don’t get to choose how this ends.”
I noticed how angry Alexander was as he stood up to face Richard Anger. "You had spent too much of your life dominating me' I refused to let it happen again."
A spark of comfort ran across my thoughts that I had a man that could stand in for me.
The inference hit hard.
Alexander tightened beside me. “What the hell does that mean that you always show up yourself in all of my decisions?"
Richard took a step forward. “It means that if you don’t cooperate, I’ll make sure the world knows exactly what kind of woman Isabella is.”
Ice crept into my blood. “You wouldn’t,” I interrupted.
His smirk was slow, deliberate. “Wouldn’t I?”
Panic clutched at my chest.
Alexander’s hand-found intense look was now on me.
Then, his voice cut through the heavy quiet, low and dangerous.
" Isabella, what is he talking about?"
Richard merely grinned. “We will see about that.”
Then, without another word, he turned and left us, leaving us both confused.
Silence settled between us.
I turned to Alexander, my voice a whisper. “What now?”
His grasp tightened around my hand.
“We need to stand together stronger than before.”
But as I looked at him, this question remained in my thoughts.
Was this the moment that would bring us together… or the one that would finally rip us apart?
Find out in the next chapter!
- Writer
