ISABELLA
I should have been nervous. I knew that. But as I stood in front of the massive Richie mansion, smoothing the front of my dress for what felt like the hundredth time, all I could feel was a knot of curiosity twisting with dread.
Dinner with my husband's family. A formal introduction. And yet, I didn't know whether to brace myself for hostility or something worse. We had been married for only a week. Not for love, but for survival.
He hadn't explained his reasons for marrying me, only that it would be in my favor. If I agreed. He said, my family would be lifted from poverty and my father spared from his debtors. He had walked into our lives like some unexpected solution, offering salvation on the condition that I marry him.
The grand dining hall glowed under the golden light of the chandelier, polished to perfection. Every chair was aligned, every plate gleamed, and the air smelled faintly of expensive perfume. But all that luxury only made me feel smaller, like I had stepped onto a stage where everyone was waiting to judge me.
I took a deep breath and reminded myself that I had to appear calm. Proper. Elegant. I had to follow Alexander's instructions to the letter. No mistakes. No weakness.
Stepping into the dining hall, I let my eyes adjust to the warm light. I walked confidently toward the table, where Alexander was already seated, and took the seat next to him.
On the other end of the table sat a man who looked slightly younger than Alexander. His dark eyes swept the room, and when they landed on me, I felt a flicker of something I couldn't identify—but it sent a jolt straight through me. I quickly shifted my gaze away as Alexander raised a glass, the soft clink cutting through the silence.
"Beside me is Mrs. Isabella Richie, my new wife," he announced, gesturing toward me. His expression was calm, almost imperceptibly proud, and I felt every eye in the room settle on me.
I nodded politely, my lips curved in a careful, measured smile. "It's a pleasure to meet everyone," I said softly, though my stomach fluttered with nerves.
The man at the other end of the table didn't take his eyes off me. He leaned back slightly, a small, almost teasing smile playing on his lips. I caught it from the corner of my eye and quickly focused on my hands folded neatly in my lap, willing my pulse to slow.
"Ah," he said softly. "So this is the woman my brother speaks of."
I froze for a fraction of a second, unsure if that was meant as a compliment or a warning.
He picked up his cutlery and began gently slicing the steak on his plate. "Nice to meet you, Isabella. I'm Roman."
There was something unusual in the way he spoke. Calm, low, soft but yet there was a subtle edge to it, a dangerous quality that sent a shiver down my spine.
I forced a polite smile and nodded. "It's nice to meet you too, Roman." My voice sounded steadier than I felt.
He tilted his head slightly, eyes never leaving mine. That subtle gaze made my chest tighten. I quickly looked down at my plate, forcing myself to focus on the food, though my thoughts refused to stay in place.
Alexander, seated beside me, raised his glass again, drawing attention back to the table. "Let's eat," he said, his voice calm but commanding.
I picked at my food carefully, trying to appear composed, though my heart still raced every time Roman's dark eyes flicked toward me.
What's this feeling, Isabella? I silently scolded myself. You're married to Alexander.
I cursed quietly under my breath and forced my attention back to my plate.
Around the table, a few other figures quietly observed me as I ate.
An older woman who is possibly a distant aunt, sat with her hands folded neatly before her, her sharp, calculating eyes fixed on me.
"Tell us, my dear," she said, her voice soft but edged with something slightly harsh. "How long have you and Alexander known each other before getting married?"
Her gaze pierced through me.
I opened my mouth to answer, but before I could say anything, Alexander cut in smoothly.
"We've known each other for quite some time," he said calmly.
Roman looked at me, then at his brother, one eyebrow slightly raised.
"Well," he said lightly, "who would have thought you'd ever find love?"
Love.
That word made me choke slightly on the wine I had just tasted. I quickly reached for my napkin, trying to hide my reaction.
Alexander simply lifted his hand, signaling the butler standing beside him to pour more champagne into his glass, completely ignoring the remark.
Roman leaned slightly over his plate, his attention seemingly on his food, yet I could still feel the weight of his awareness. There was something deliberate in the way he moved. It was calm, controlled, but unnervingly observant. Every small gesture felt like a quiet test.
"Do you enjoy the steak, Isabella?" he asked, his voice low, almost a murmur, but clear enough for only me to hear. There was a teasing undertone that made my pulse quicken.
"I… yes," I replied, keeping my tone neutral. "It's delicious."
His eyes lifted, locking onto mine for a heartbeat longer than necessary. A small, almost imperceptible smile touched the corner of his lips.
I quickly looked back down at my plate, trying to calm the strange flutter in my chest. Around me, the other diners continued their polite conversations, but their voices felt distant compared to the quiet tension building at this end of the table.
I stretched to reach for my glass at the same moment Roman reached for the salt beside it, Our fingers brushed. I pulled away too fast.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
Roman didn't move his hand right away.
His eyes lifted slowly to meet mine, something unreadable passing through them.
"Are you?" he asked quietly.
My cheeks burned. I didn't even know why.
Before I could respond, Alexander's voice cut cleanly through the moment.
"Isabella."
I turned immediately.
"Yes?"
"You may excuse yourself," he said calmly in a low tone, his eyes still fixed on his plate. Though not the way a husband is supposed to dismiss his wife. It sounded more like a command.
I nodded quietly and rose from my seat, suddenly very aware of how small I felt in that room.
As I turned to leave, I could feel Roman's gaze following every step. I didn't dare turn back but I could feel his eyes on me all the way to the door.