Page 56 of Bartered Innocence

She blinks a few times, rubbing at her eyes as if they hurt her. I imagine they are dry from the flames.

“Yeah, I was just thinking,” Isabelle says.

I nod, an amused smile pulling at my lips. “I could see that. You didn’t even notice me come in.”

She glances down with a somber expression on her face that has me moving to sit next to her. I stretch my arm along the back of the couch behind her. “Okay, Isabelle. Now I know something is wrong.”

She shakes her head. “Not really, I was just…thinking, like I said.” Her voice is resigned.

Her eyebrow raises as we stare at each other, and I reach out, running a knuckle down her cheek. “I’ll listen if you want.”

“You may not like it,” she says, biting her lip.

I shrug. “We don’t know that, but I’m still willing to listen anyway.”

Isabelle sighs, a raw vulnerability shining in her eyes. “I feel alone.”

I stiffen at her words, not expecting that. My brothers, Deirdre and I have done as much as we can to make her feel a part of this family. Aodhan has told me that during the day, she spends a lot of time in the kitchen with Dierdre, or with my father reading, or even with Greg in the greenhouse. I thought she was adjusting well.

She gives me a bitter smile. “Everyone has been so kind and welcoming, more than I ever imagined. And how I feel is no reflection on them, but I don’t know anyone.” She swallows harshly, licking her lips and looking back to the fire. “And I feel abandoned. You were right, you know. I was looking for anyone to take me home that night. I was determined to lose my virginity so I didn’t have to marry.”

Anger surges in my chest and I clench my jaw, trying not to interject as she continues with a hollow laugh. “Obviously that didn’t work out. So I went ahead with it, I married you. And they all praised me for it, told me how proud they were, and how important what I was doing was for the Famiglia.”

I reach over to entangle our fingers as her voice cracks and she looks up at me, wiping the tears falling down her cheeks.

“I worked so hard for their approval, and while I genuinely love to cook, I think part of me still wanted my father to recognize what I’ve done for them,” she says as a sob breaks out in her throat.

I pull her into my chest, and she cries harder, rasping out the next sentence that breaks my heart for her. “I feel like I was disposable, like maybe they never really loved me.”

Rubbing her back, I press kisses on the top of her head. “They love you, Isabelle. They do. I’ve seen it, okay?” I tighten my hold on her. “I saw it the fear in your father’s eyes when he hesitated to hand you over after walking you down the aisle. I saw it in the way your mother was determined to break my bank with the wedding, as if I would disagree and give her a reason to call it off. I saw it in the way your brother looked ten seconds from shooting me anytime I touched you during our reception.” I don’t mention the wasteful meeting Luca called for, just for Ricky to question my intentions for her.

She sobs harder, pressing her face deeper into me. I hate seeing her like this, instead of my strong, stubborn wife. “Baby, it’s not you. It’s everything else. The peace between us and the Famiglia is fragile, they’re probably under orders to let us settle before they reach out, okay?” I say, trying to grasp at anything to comfort her. She lifts her head, and I cup her face, wiping at her tears with my thumbs.

“Maybe I can see them then. The restaurant?—”

“Isabelle,” I interrupt, damn tired about hearing about that fucking restaurant. “How about we see if your parents can come for dinner? Like the wonderful one you just made?—”

She rips out of my hold, standing up to glare down at me. “I pour my feelings out to you, and you still won’t allow me to go back to work.”

I rub my hand down my face, exhausted from having this same conversation with her when she’s unwilling to compromise with me. “I’ve never prevented you from working. You can pick any of my restaurants or chefs in my territory, and I?—”

“My father has a perfectly good one!” Her furious shout has my own anger rising, and I need to know why she won’t let this fucking go.

“Ask yourself if you really want to work there, or if you can’t let go until your daddy sings your praises,” I sneer. I regret the words as soon as I see the hurt look on her face and she flinches away. My stomach twists and I reach for her. “Wait, Isabelle?—”

“No, fuck you. How dare you throw my words back at me.” Her voice is strong with conviction, but I can hear the masked pain. She doesn’t give me a chance to explain or even apologize before grabbing her pajamas off the bed and storming into the bathroom. I wait for a few minutes, stuck in a lost haze on where the evening took a wrong turn. We had an amazing dinner, one Cillian didn’t shut up about even hours after, and then I came home to this. With a defeated sigh, I grab a pair of sweats and head into the guestroom, wanting to give her space for the night.

Chapter22

Isabelle

He pausesright in the doorway the next morning, seeing I’m still in the bedroom. “I thought you’d already be eating breakfast.”

I raise my eyebrows. “A night away wasn’t enough time to avoid me?”

Rian swallows, rubbing a hand down his face. “I slept in the guestroom a few doors over. I wasn’t far, but I wanted to see if you were still upset before trying to talk to you.”

My eyes lower, grabbing the sweater and pulling it over my head. “I’m not the one who has a problem communicating,” I mutter, shoving my feet into my slippers and then glaring at him.

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