“And if I don’t?” She challenged, her face bares of any emotion.
I crouched down in front of her, my eyes on hers, then I shrugged. “I know how to fight.” I state simply, then made a move to take off her heels.
She tried to pull her legs away the minute my hand touched her leg, moving it far away. “What do you think you’re doing?” Her tone was laced with suspicion, and it doesn’t take a genius to see she doesn’t trust me-or anyone. But, it’s okay. We’ll work on that trust issue of hers, I understand where its coming from.
“Stay still.” I reached my hands out to take a hold of her feet again, taking off the heels before she could pull away. I then tilted the foot to the side, seeing the red spots caused by the heels. She had stopped pulling away back then, suddenly still. I didn’t focus on that though, my brows drew in, my lips slanted downwards at the injury there. “Why do you still wear these when they only hurt your feet?” I asked genuinely, taking off the other heel to reveal the same injury. Isabella didn’t answer, and when I tilted my head up to look at her, she seemed as though she was in a trance, a distant look in her eyes. “Isabella?” I called out softly.
She blinked, zoning back to reality. Her lips slanted downwards into a frown. “Why are you doing this?” She suddenly asked, and she must’ve been the question in my eyes because she added. “This, and yesterday as well, with the bid.”
At the mention of the day before, I found myself smiling slightly. “So, you did notice me, I thought you didn’t.” I genuinely thought I was mistaken, and that my eyes didn’t meet hers judging by how fast she disappeared. “I was trying to get a way to talk to you.” I admitted. “But, you were gone before I got the chance to do so?
“You spent 50 million dollars on a painting just to speak to me?” She repeated, her eyes questioning whether that makes sense to me.
I chuckled, nodding. “As ridiculous as that must sound to you, yes.”
She hummed, not seeming to believe me. “You should stop then. It’s pointless.”
“Is it?” I don’t think so. “Do you really want me to stop?” She nodded, making my smile widen, shifting so I’m crouched on one knee, at eye level with her. “Marry me then.”
***
Isabella Montague.
Should I consider it a good or bad timing? It’s hard to decided really, not when I’m yet to decide how I feel about the whole thing. I mean, I do know, but it’s a bit more complicated than easier said.
“Oh, there you are.” A voice came, putting a halt to our conversation before I could give Christian a response. One that’s at the very tip of my tongue because giving him that response is instinctual to me.
I blinked, and at the same time, we both lifted our gaze from each other and rested it on the owner of the voice. My face broke into a small, barely visible smile upon spotting an unfamiliar face, at least, not on a personal level. But, I’ve seen his face earlier-he’s the best man, and was standing right beside the groom the whole event.
He offered me a warm smile, his gaze on me for a short moment before he focused it on the man crouching in front of me, a look of familiarity exchanged between them. “Was looking all around for you, man.” Clearly, they know each other, and not just on a professional level. It’s obvious from the tone.
Christian’s face broke into a small smile, the one from earlier morphing into that you’d give a friend you’ve known your whole life, though there’s this warning glint I didn’t miss in his eyes. “Nathan…”
The new guy, Nathan apparently, shifted his gaze to me for a split second before his smile became an amused one. “I didn’t know the lady has whisked you away.” He teased, chuckling. There’s nothing malicious about his tone though, none of mockery as well. Just a teasing one, directed at none other than the man in front of me. “She’s the one isn’t she?” Though his gaze was on me, his question is directed towards Christian.
My brows furrowed, confusion marring my features as I tried to decode what his words could possibly mean by ‘the one’. I’m certain everyone saw us earlier, so, I’ll rule that out. This seems to go beyond catching a bouquet.
I heard a sigh come from Christian, and just as I slanted my questioning gaze to him, he unfolded to his full height, one of his hands sliding into the pocket of his pants as he leveled his gaze with his friend. “If you know, why are you asking?” He gave him a pointed look, one that showed he’s not on board with the whole teasing and all.
But Nathan must love to piss Christian, because if possible, his smile widened as he popped his shoulders. “Just.” He turned his attention back to me again, as he struck his hand out. “Nathan Zanders. If any time you feel tired of being around this guy, or he is insufficient, I’ll be more than willing to fill in for him.” He offered me a charming smile, and I’m certain he’s the ladies guy, and he must love the attention. It’s obvious from his confident posture and stuff.
My smile widened slightly, trying to be as polite as I can while I find a way to get away from whatever is going on because I have no intention of staying in the wedding anymore, nor get entangled with Kingston more than I already am. One time is enough, two times is out of my control, three will be beyond so I’d rather avoid it.
Yet again, before I can respond, not that I would in a way that Nathan will get any idea, though he hardly seems like the type to do act beyond teasing, Christian cut it, his eyes narrowed at the hand extended. “You have three seconds to pull your hands back…” His voice dropped, the smile from earlier disappearing.
Nathan held his gaze, his amusement palpable before he pulled his hands back with a smug smile, as if he’d successfully achieved what he’s aiming for-to get under Christian’s skin. Though he’d retreated his hand back, his eyes didn’t stop from bouncing back to me again. “Would you be joining us for the reception?”
Finally getting the chance to actually speak, I shook my head slightly. “I don’t think–” Before I could respond, my phone that was in my purse pinged. I blinked. “Excuse me.” I pulled out the purse and brought the phone out, tapping the screen and seeing the message that came in from Amy. My brows drew in, reading the single line that changed my stance on the answer I was about to give. ‘Pierce owns 1.5% of Montague Group shares and will be at the upcoming Shareholders meeting.’
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.