Page 21 of Bartered Innocence

“Papa seems pretty excited,” I say, grabbing a knife to finish what she was chopping.

My mother clicks her tongue. “Yes, yes. He can show off that office he’s so proud of. Finally have some guests for it.”

I try to smile, my parents are excited to sell me off to the highest bidder and it breaks my heart a little. While the other girls around my age were planning their dream weddings, I was trying and failing as many new recipes as I could. This is never the life I had envisioned for myself, though a small part of me knows owning the restaurant outright was a long shot.

My mother turns on the radio, probably sensing I’m not in the mood to talk, and that’s what I love about her. We work in tandem, preparing the food while humming and singing under our breath. Occasionally, I catch her swaying her hips to the song, and I realize how much I’m going to miss this, making my earlier sadness come roaring back.

Luca arrives first, with Gio in tow behind him. He doesn’t visit our house often since Ricky usually goes to him. Gio’s soulless eyes give me the creeps. I’m shocked to see him at the door when I swing it open, ignoring the disappointment that it isn’t who I expected.

“Good evening, Isabelle,” Luca greets me.

“I didn’t realize you were coming tonight,” I say, glancing between them cautiously.

He gives me a wry smile. “Of course, we wouldn’t want Rian to be here unwatched.”

I cock my head to the side. “Isn’t the point of the marriage to trust one another and start a peaceful era?”

Luca’s eyes darken. “You’re not married yet.”

The smile I give him back is unkind. “No, but it seems like it’s for nothing if you can’t expect him to behave for a simple dinner.”

“Isabelle!” Ricky’s sharp voice has me sighing, and I leave them at the door without another word.

Any other time, I would have held my tongue with Luca but I’ve reached the point of not caring. I’m only proceeding for the sake of my parents and everything they’ve sacrificed for us over the years. I head to the living room and slouch onto the couch, knowing they are going to gather near the dining room so Ricky can pour them drinks.

They leave me alone, and when the doorbell rings again a few minutes later, I don’t get up until my name is called.

His blue eyes find mine, and I hide my displeasure at his cocky expression as he walks toward me. My hope for a night without his smug gloating is already out the window. I hold out my hand and he brings it to his lips, planting a soft kiss.

“Isabelle. You look beautiful this evening.”

I give him a closed mouth smile and pull away from his grasp. My mom tsks at me under her breath and reaches out to greet Rian. He’s polite in the exchanged handshake, but his eyes don’t leave me. I glance at the man behind him, vaguely recognizing him from the last time they visited our home. His name escapes me until I hear him introduce himself to my mother as Aodhan. I give Rian my back, walking away and leaving my mother to be the perfect hostess as I hurry to the kitchen and finish up the last few things for dinner. There isn’t much since my mother did most of it already, but I want to double check.

Ricky finds me there a few minutes later, and he leans against the counter. I avoid his gaze as I stand at the stove, stirring the sauce.

“You know, men like that. They like the chase.”

I scowl at my brother, glaring at him over my shoulder. “The chase? You mean persisting after a woman who makes it clear she’s not interested?”

My brother has the audacity to smirk and pop a crouton into his mouth. I’m too far away to smack him, so I glare daggers and he chuckles.

“Sometimes women say one thing, but they actually mean another.”

“Because that doesn’t sound like the start of a true crime episode,” I mutter, removing the pot from the burner and turning off the heat.

Moving to the sink, I wash my hands and turn to face Ricky earnestly. “Two things can be true at once. Do I find him attractive? Yes. Would marrying him be the worst thing to happen to me? Probably not. It doesn’t matter, I don’t want to get married. I’ve dreamed of being a chef and taking over the restaurant for as long as I can remember. Marrying him will sooner make me a lunch lady for the small army of minions he’ll eventually want.”

Ricky stifles his laugh. “Sorry, you said minions and my mind went to Rian in an orange jumpsuit. It’s a fairly disturbing image.”

I smile and shake my head. “Stop it. I know what you’re doing.”

He waggles his eyebrows. “How long into dinner do you think Father will ask him where you guys are living?”

“Ten minutes.”

“I say five. Wanna bet?”

I smile at my brother, feeling less tense even if we have to walk out there and pretend to be happy they’re marrying me off to the Irish.

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