Once Upon A Honeymoon

“I will not marry Damian, and that’s final.” Isabelle’s voice echoed through the grand sitting room of the Moore mansion, trembling with fury and disbelief. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest, as though bracing herself for the thunderstorm that was sure to come. Jonathan looked up slowly from the folder he had been reviewing. His face was calm—too calm. “Then you don’t understand what’s at stake.” “No,” Isabelle snapped. “I understand perfectly.” You’re willing to barter my life for a business alliance. You think I’m some deal to be closed? “You’re being dramatic,” Jonathan replied coldly. This is not about selling you off, it’s about saving the future of our family—about Moore Holdings, about preserving everything we’ve built. “I didn’t build any of this,” she said through clenched teeth. You and Grandfather did. And I wasn’t born to be anyone’s bargaining chip. “You bear the Moore name, remember,” Jonathan said, rising to his full height. And with that comes responsibility. You don’t get to pick and choose only when it suits you. Isabelle scoffed. “Responsibility? Or slavery? Because what you’re asking of me isn’t love, it’s imprisonment.” Jonathan’s voice grew colder. “Love is a luxury, legacy is a necessity. You don’t have the freedom to think like an ordinary woman.” “Well, maybe I want to be ordinary,” Isabelle said bitterly. “Maybe I don’t want to carry your legacy on my back like a curse.” Just then, her mother entered the room, hearing the raised voices. She glanced between her daughter and husband, tension written all over her gentle features. “What’s going on?” she asked, stepping closer. “Your daughter,” Jonathan said, “seems to believe her self-will is more important than the family name.” “I’m not some sort of property to trade off!” Isabelle turned towards her mother. “Mum, please, talk to him.” Tell him this isn’t right. Margaret hesitated. “Isabelle, sweetheart, let’s all take a breath.” “No!” Isabelle growled. “This isn’t something I can just breathe through.” He wanted me to marry someone I barely knew. For business, for family legacy. Margaret’s eyes shifted to Jonathan. “Darling,” he said calmly, “you know why this must happen. We discussed this a few months ago, and you agreed.” “I agreed to discussions, Jonathan,” she replied quietly. “Not to force our daughter into something that would break her spirit.” “You know as well as I do that without the Blakes, Moore Holdings would be vulnerable. Charles Blake has been clear—this marriage seals the company's future. Without it, the Blakes walk out, and they take all their money.” “And you think that’s a reason to throw me into a marriage I didn’t choose?” Isabelle asked, her voice shaking. “It’s not about choice, it’s about duty,” Jonathan said. Margaret stepped between them, a hand on Isabelle’s arm. “Let’s talk calmly, please. Isabelle, I know this is hard, but this is not just about your father. The board has expectations, the industry has eyes on us.” “I don’t care about the board or the industry!” Isabelle cried. I care about waking up every day and not feeling trapped. I care about being with someone I love. Is that too much to ask? Margaret looked at her, her eyes softening. "Darling, I'm sure with time, you and Damian will grow to love each other. And besides, he is a kind man". “That’s not good enough,” Isabelle whispered. You married my dad because you both love each other. Why can't I do the same? “I want you to protect the family name,” Margaret said softly. “We owe it to the generations before us.” “And what about the generations after me?” Isabelle snapped. “Do I sacrifice my happiness so that one day my daughter will have to do the same?” Jonathan folded his arms. “If we had all chased our desires, the Moores would have nothing. No empire, no company, no name worth speaking about.” “You already have everything!” Isabelle said, tears forming in her eyes. “You have wealth, power, status.” What more do you want? My freedom? “I want my daughter to understand that she is part of something greater, beyond what she imagined,” Jonathan said. Isabelle turned to Margaret again. “Mum… please. If you say no and stand with me, he’ll listen. He always listens to you.” Margaret hesitated. She reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair from Isabelle’s face. “I wish I could do that, Belle. I do. But this decision… It’s not just his. It’s mine too. And we made it because we believed it was the right thing for the family.” Isabelle recoiled. “So I’m alone in this.” “You’re not alone,” Margaret said, but her voice lacked conviction. “You’re just not on my side,” Isabelle said. “Got it.” Margaret’s lips trembled. “It’s not that simple.” “It is,” Isabelle replied. You both chose the company's reputation. And you left me to carry the burden. Jonathan stepped forward again. “This is your final chance to act wisely, Isabelle. If you refuse this, you jeopardize everything. And I will not protect you from the fallout.” Isabelle’s voice cracked as tears streamed down her cheeks. “So that’s it? Would you strip me of everything?” Jonathan didn’t blink. “If necessary. You will no longer represent Moore Holdings. Your inheritance, your position on the board—everything will be revoked.” Her chest rose and fell in disbelief. “Because I refuse to be sold?” She turned to her mother, eyes glassy, pleading. “So you won't say support me?” Margaret couldn’t meet her gaze. Her eyes fell to the floor, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry, Isabelle.” A sob escaped Isabelle’s lips. She wiped her face with the back of her hand, but the tears wouldn’t stop. “Then I guess… I’m not a Moore anymore,” she whispered. And with that, she turned and walked away, shoulders trembling, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor—each step like a goodbye. Behind her was her father, standing stone-faced, unmoved. And her mother remained frozen, silent, and still, as her daughter disappeared down the hall in tears.