Victoria offered him a wide grin, her other hand going to rest on his chest where she pats it lovingly, “I am the lucky one.” Her grin widened, before she turns to face the men. “I hope you will keep looking after my husband please, I would appreciate that.”
“Of course, of course!” They were all quick to nod their heads, “It’s not every day one sees a successful marriage like you two. I mean, take your sister for instance,” The man diverted his attention to me, like the others. He then chuckled, under the guise of being nice, “your marriage was a huge failure, wasn’t it?”
“Jacob.” My father called out in a warning tone, to show the man is crossing the line. “That is enough.”
The older man simply chuckled, “What? It’s not a news to anyone here, is it?” He turned to face the men whom all chuckled lowly as well. “Your daughter’s marriage fails, and you really can’t expect someone with such a bad omen to lead a company, right? I am surprised her company even sailed for this long, really.” He released another condensing chuckle, before meeting my gaze. “No offense.” The sarcasm was impossible to miss.
They all stared at me mockingly, muttering words of agreement to him under their breaths as their judging eyes stared at me, snickers exchanged under their breaths.
“–Even after years, it appears you are still unable to find a decent man. Tell me, Isabella, are you still unable to move on from your ex-husband or is it that you are simply unable to find a man? You seem to have a thing for gold diggers. It’s hard to find a good man, isn’t it? Tell you what, why don’t you have your brother here pair you up with one of his friends, it wouldn’t do you any good if you age any more single. A woman past the age of thirty is considered old, and you’re nearing that, aren’t you?”
My hand curled by the side, my eyes narrowed at him. And just as I parted my lips to throw back a reply at the very tip of my lips, I felt a hand slid around my waist, a hard, muscled chest pressed to my back as a familiar cologne filled my senses. “Sorry, I’m late, love,” The hand on my waist tightened as the deep voice made my insides curl, his warm breath on the side of my face as he leaned down to press a lingering kiss on my forehead. “I hope I am not too late?” He inquired, his head still turned down in my direction.
I lifted my head, my face mere inches away from his as his warm hazel ones stared into mine, his lips slanted into that smile that never fails to make my insides curl. His hand that was on my waist reached down to mine that was in a fist, uncurling it before he intertwined them, perfectly in place before resting on my waist again. My eyes searched his, before my lips slanted into a smile as well, though butterflies filled my tummy.
“Not at all,” I whispered back, my eyes never leaving his. “You’re just in time.”
“You are…” The voice belonging to Jacob came, interrupting our little moment, laced with disbelief.
He tore his gaze from me, settling it on the group of men as his expression turned cold, his voice losing any softness it had earlier. “Christian Kingston,” He introduced, his tone steady, husky, and filled to the brim with utmost confidence. “Though you know that already it appears.” He added, referring to the man’s lack of words.
I don’t blame him, as big as he thinks he is-which is just a shareholder and the owner of a subsidiary under Montague Group, Christian Kingston is known in the business world as a whole as a living icon.
“Why…” Jacob’s lips parted as he stared between us, eyes wide, just like the other men before settling it back on Christian in question. “…why are you two…” He gestured between the two of us.
“Oh, that.” Christian nodded slowly, before his lips slanted into a small smile, though there was nothing nice about it. “Allow me to reintroduce myself then. I am Christian Kingston,” He looked down to hold my gaze, as his smile softened into a genuine one. “Isabella Montague’s husband.” He dropped the bomb.
***
16 HOURS TO THE SHAREHOLDERS’ MEETING.
Christian Kingston.
“Christian Ian Kingston!” Gloria Kingston’s voice came through the speakers of my phone, forcing me to pull it back before she could damage my ear drums any more than she already has. I winced, scrunching my face slightly at the sudden noise. Knowing she would not calm down any time soon, I opted to put the phone on speaker instead, and then placed the phone on the table, beside the folder I am currently going through, and almost instantly, more of her voice spilled out. “You ditched Zara Rutherford, really?! Again?!” She exclaimed, frustration lacing her tone.
I sighed, then shook my head as I flicked through the pages of the folder in front of me-the latest on the business I am planning to invest into. “I did not ditch her.” I said calmly, half my attention on my frustrated mother, and the other half in full business mode.
I could picture her giving me a look of disbelief, as if to ask whether I really just said that to her. She was silent for a few seconds, before she laid the fact out. “You did not show up for your date,” She stated as a matter of fact, “Yet again.” She stressed out, “Does that count as not ditching to you? You stood her up, Christian. You stood Zara Rutherford up. Do you not know how important her time is?” She was losing her calm, not that she had any when she called. If I was close to her, she would no doubt smack me on the arm or throw her shoe at me or something.
You can never tell with Gloria’s motherly attitude. She acts like an Asian mother sometimes-which makes sense because she is half Asian. So, I guess the genes is still strong.
However, regardless of her angry mode, I was not bothered in the slightest. “I thought you were looking for a wife for me, and not a business partner?” I muttered, though loud enough for her to hear. Going through the lines of the document in my hand, I added. “And I already told Carter to inform both you and her that I will not show up. So, technically I did not stand her up. Why?” I flicked the pen in my hand, focusing my attention on my phone, despite it not being a video call, “Because I never agreed to being there in the first place.” I do not know how many times I need to repeat this.
I did not stand the woman up. I clearly told Carter-who informed me of the meeting to tell both she and my mother that set it up, that I will not show up. I did not even make excuses with work, not because I don’t have work to do, but because I know it will sound like an excuse. Instead, I earnestly confessed that I have no interest in the match up, so I hope she finds a good man.
How does me not showing up after she decides to still go translate to me standing her up please? It does not, not in the slightest.
“You sent her heels, Christian,” My mother tried to salvage her beliefs of me and Zara could work out. “You sent her limited designer shoes that she treasures because it is from you. You cannot do that and expect her to not have any feelings for you?”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.