Owen's gaze was steely as he looked down at Isabella. "If my mother hadn't made him promise on her deathbed, he would have never acknowledged me as his son. So, was that why you married me?"
Each word dripped with bitterness, as if he were squeezing the ice-cold syllables from between clenched teeth.
Both Isabella and I shuddered from where we stood—her inside the study, and me hidden just outside.
The look on Owen's face was terrifying, like a beast awakened, baring its fangs.
At that moment, I had no doubt: if Isabella didn't give him the answer he wanted, she would pay the ultimate price.
With tears glistening in her eyes, Isabella looked up at him and spoke softly, "Yes, I regret it. I regret not stopping you when I first realized the extent of your ambition. Maybe we wouldn't be
