Page 25 of Theirs to Possess: The Marriage Claim
Her attempt to get away from our parents and make sure they didn’t try to marry her off to anyone else?
Clearly Margaux is smarter than I am.
“Please don’t tell the judge or your mother.”
After walking out of here tonight, I’m not sure I’ll have anything to say to either of them again. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve done more than enough to repay everything they’ve ever done for me.
But when I get hold of Margaux, I’ll have plenty of questions that need answers.
“Dorian is glaring at you again.”
The rest of my life will probably be like this.
I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing I could be anywhere else.
The meal is a blur of small talk until something Lucian says captures my interest. “Hell is empty, and all the devilsare here.” In his glass, he swirls the expensive Bonds whiskey he’d just had delivered to the table.
Before I can stop myself, I respond with a favorite Shakespeare quote of my own, “All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players.”
Dorian ends with, “There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.”
His quote fits seamlessly with the first two, proving he’s got a greater depth than I thought. And because of that, I wonder if his selection has another meaning behind it. Has he overheard anything that Evelyn and I have been discussing?
“Well done, Isla,” he whispers in my ear.
I don’t respond. Because he’s surprised me too.
And that makes me wonder. How many more does he have in store for me?
Dinner is served with military precision, despite the earlier chaos. The waitstaff moves like a well-orchestrated ballet, placing plates of butter-poached lobster and herb-crusted lamb before the guests. The food is exquisite—I can tell from the appreciative murmurs around me—but I can barely manage a few bites. My stomach is too twisted with anxiety.
Dorian, on the other hand, eats with calm deliberation, cutting his meat into precise pieces, sipping his wine with appreciation. Everything he does speaks of control.
“You should eat,” he murmurs, nodding at the plate that I’ve barely touched. “You’ll need your strength later.”
The threat—or promise—in his voice makes me set down my fork entirely.
I barely manage to eat a few more bites, then thankfully the plates are cleared, and coffee is served. Not that I need any with the way my hands are shaking.
An eternity seems to pass before Mrs. Henderson crouches between us. “Are you ready for the DJ?”
Which I’ve learned is none other than the loudmouth internet and self-proclaimed marketing guru, Jaxon Mills. His podcast is consistently rated in the top ten most listened-to, and most often it lands in the top five. He gets pissed off if he falls out of first place.
How we’ve landed him as a DJ, I don’t know.
Then I look at my husband, and the whole thing makes sense. Jax came from nothing and made himself into a billionaire. No doubt he now moves in the same rarified circles as my husband.
And then his name hits me.Mills. His wife was Willow Henderson. So that makes our wedding planner his mother-in-law?
Most likely so. It makes sense that Dorian would work with people he trusted to keep their mouths shut and go along with whatever he wanted.
“Any objections?” Dorian asks me.
Would it matter if I had any? “That’s fine.” Nothing can slow down the steamroller that is running over my life.
A few minutes later, the lights dim slightly, casting the chandeliers’ prisms into a shadowed glow. A low hum of anticipation buzzes through the crowd, and I sit up a little straighter, wondering what’s going on.
Then, with a crackle of energy rivaling a lightning strike, Jaxon Mills strides out from the wings. He’s all swagger and sharp edges in his tailored tuxedo.
