24. Isabella

Lunch is surprisingly not the disaster I thought it was going to be. Everyone's on their best behavior—well, everyone except Enzo. He sits at the head of the table, trying for this tough guy act and clearly hoping to make Graham uncomfortable.

Graham takes it all in stride, though. He didn't even blink when Enzo subtly reminded him that he has a lot of guns. I had to roll my eyes hard at that one.

The twins are perfect little angels and are so excited to see him. Then again, they were already obsessed with Graham before today so there weren't any issues there. It's hard not to be obsessed with him, I guess. Graham has a way of making anybody he comes across feel special.

Rosa took to him like a fish in water. She's currently heavily pregnant, about to enter her third trimester. Her stomach is incredibly big and round, which is normal considering she's carrying twins. Graham's telling her about a crib for the babies that his company recently launched. Ever the businessman. Rosa's sold on the crib by the time he's done. She looks at her husband.

"We might need to make a trip to one of the Steele Industries stores, my love," she tells him with a smile.

Enzo sighs. "Of course, principessa," he says fondly. Then he looks at Graham. "So, Steele, do you shoot?" he drawls.

"Guns? Not very well," Graham replies. "But I've been told I'm pretty good at archery. If you want, we can go hunting sometime. I've gone on a couple of trips with my father."

I laugh into my cup. "There's no way you'd get Enzo into the woods to hunt animals."

"Yeah, my skills are better suited for people," my cousin says meaningfully, eyebrow flicking up.

I roll my eyes. For the love of God.

Graham simply smiles. "Let me know if you ever change your mind."

The meal ends quickly, thankfully. As soon as it's over, Maria rushes over to Graham's side of the table.

"Do you want to see the Taylor Swift posters in my room, Gray? I also have a signed shirt that cugino Enzo got me for my birthday," she rambles excitedly.

"A signed T-shirt, huh? That's pretty cool," Graham states, looking at me for help.

I laugh before deciding to save him. "Don't you have homework, sweetie?"

"Yeah," Maria answers.

"Well, then go on. Graham can see your posters later."

Her brother comes over to take her hand and after saying good bye to Graham, the two of them leave. Enzo and Rosa are next.

"It was really nice to meet you, Graham," Rosa says gently.

"Yeah, nice," Enzo adds. "We should hang out, though, you and me alone, sometime?"

Graham shrugs. "Yeah, that'd be great."

He's not the least bit intimidated by him and I can tell it's pissing Enzo off a little.

"I'll let you know when I'm free," Enzo states before sweeping his wife away.

I grin as I watch them go. As soon as they leave, Graham pulls me closer.

"Now do I get to see your bedroom?" he questions, eyes gleaming dangerously.

A shiver rolls through me at the promises in his expression. "Yeah, sure. let's go."

I lead him up the steps to my bedroom and open the door, letting us in to my most personal space. I watch Graham's face as he takes it all in. I grew up in this room, most of my childhood memories made within it's four walls. It's actually pretty simple, understated. Just a large four-poster bed standing in the middle of a room painted a light blue.

Graham walks to my bed and takes a seat. His gaze is immediately drawn to the pictures on display on my nightstand. He picks one up of the twins and me when I was younger. It was only a year after my father died. I was in my second year of college. The twins were pretty little then.

He picks up another picture of me and Enzo. I shift closer to look at it. He's probably around fourteen in the picture. I'm eight years old. There's an innocent happy smile on my face. It's right before the time my father began to focus more on me. Before the hell I had to endure started. Enzo doesn't smile at all in the picture. His expression is hard, his eyes haunted—a little boy who went through a tremendous amount of torment.

As kids, we were all each other had, each of us trying to help the other with our demons. And then he left. I was so angry with him when he did. Now I'm just glad he was able to find a way to break the shackles of the people who caused him so much torment—my father being one of them.

"There aren't any pictures of your parents," Graham notes, a question in his eyes as he looks up at me.

Fuck.

"You never talk about your mom," he presses, and I know he's not going to let this go.

It takes a long moment before I finally answer.

"She died giving birth to me. There were some complications," I tell him, ignoring the slice of pain in my chest.

I've spent so many nights wondering how different my life would have been had she survived. I never knew her but a part of me knew that she would have tried her best to protect me from my father had she lived.

"I'm so sorry, baby," Graham breathes. "And your father?"

"He passed away a few years ago."

"Are you ever going to tell me why you hate him so much?"

I suck in a small breath. I don't know if I'll ever be able to tell him. What am I supposed to say? That my father was a monster who thought of me as useless except when it came to pronouncing sentences on people he murdered?

He'll surely look at me differently when he realizes what I used to do. The rational part of me knows that thoughts like that are ridiculous and Graham will understand that I was a child who had no choice. But I know he's not okay with things like that. I remember him calling people in the outfit murderers and thieves. I might have never killed anybody, but at the end of the day, my hands aren't clean.

I'm so scared of his judgment. I'm scared he'll stop looking at me the way he does if he finds out the truth.

"Maybe one day," I murmur, non-committal. I don't miss the way his expression tightens at that. "Tell me what your father said," I say, changing the topic. I'm too impatient to wait any longer.

"I told you, Isa. It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me," I retort.

Graham sighs, running a hand through his hair. "As expected, he told me to end things. And that if I didn't, he would pull all support for me to become CEO."

My fists clench. He knew that was a possibility, and I knew it, too. But now that we're facing it, I can't help but be a little horrified. He can't lose the company. Not after how hard he's worked to get to where he is.

"And what did you say?" I question, my voice coming out low. I can feel myself slowly starting to shut down as the inevitability of our situation washes over me.

Graham's eyes are more intense than I've ever seen. "I told him there was no way I would be able to end things with you, ever. Because I'm in love with you, Isabella."

Absolute shock follows that statement. I stare at him for several seconds, sure I heard wrong.

"What?"

Graham gets to his feet, stalking toward me. He places a hand on my chin to lift my head up, forcing eye contact.

"I'm in love with you, Isabella," he repeats. "And I'm not letting you go."

I swallow softly, my heart starting to pound in my chest. I'm completely speechless. Graham smiles uncomfortably after a few moments.

"You have to say something, baby."

My throat is dry. I swallow once again before slowly pulling out of his grip. A shadow falls across Graham's eyes and I know he can tell what I'm about to say.

"You're not in love with me. You're just saying that because you're scared. You think you're about to lose your position in the company, and you're trying not to lose me, too."

His jaw grinds. "Don't tell me what I feel, Isabella," he growls. "You have no idea what's going through my head."

"But I do, though. I know you, Graham. When things get hard, you run away. And now you're going to use me as an excuse."

His eyes flicker with rage. "You're the one that's acting like a fucking coward right now, Sunshine. What? I say three words and that's enough to make you tuck your tail in and run."

"You said you love me!" I yell, my heart racing so fast it's almost painful.

"And I fucking meant it!" he shouts back. "Why is that so hard for you to believe?"

I shake my head, refusing to let those words have an effect on me. If I let them, they'll consume me.

"You don't mean it. This isn't happening," I say, turning away from him.

There's a pressure at the back of my eyes that I pretend not to feel it as I count my breaths. Neither of us says anything for a long moment. We've never fought like this before. And I hate it, but I also know it's necessary.

"What do you want from me, Isabella?" Graham asks, a defeated note in his voice. "I'm choosing you. Over everything, I'm choosing you."

I whirl around to face him. "That's exactly what I don't fucking want. I don't want you to choose me. I want you to choose yourself. You've wanted this for so long and if you choose me over the company, you'll eventually come to resent me."

"You can't make that decision for me, Isabella."

"I'm not making it for you, I'm making it for us," I tell him, feeling my heart breaking in my chest. "This can't continue."

A torrent of emotions punches through me, but pain at the sight of the expression on his face is the most potent one. I can't believe this is happening. I can't believe I'm doing this. Everything in me screams not to go down this route.

But I have to do the right thing for him. More than anything else, I need him to be okay.

"I think we should break up," I whisper, feeling my hands tremble.

Graham laughs. It's a cruel, hard laugh, one I've never heard from him before.

"You're a lot of things, Isabella. But I never thought you'd be a hypocrite," he spits. He stands in front of me, green eyes filled with so much anger and pain, it takes my breath away. "Why can't you say it back? I know you, Isa. And I know you feel it, too. Just say it and we'll be okay. Tell me you love me."

My eyes close for a brief moment before I say the words I know will break him.

"I don't," I whisper. "I'm not worth throwing your life away for, Graham. Go back to the company. To your father and tell him we're over. You know it's the right thing to do."

A muscle ticks in his jaw a second before he takes a step away from me. And another, leaving only coldness in his wake. His gaze locks with mine.

"You're supposed to be braver than this, Sunshine."

He's right. I should be. But the truth is, I'm a fucking coward. The biggest coward of all. I really am a hypocrite. Graham starts to walk toward the door and everything in me wants to call him back.

I want him to hold me and kiss me, and I want to tell him I love him. That I feel everything for him. But something holds me back. A voice whispers in my ear that maybe it's better this way. Eventually, he would have figured out that, deep down, I'm just a broken little girl, trying hard not to show the cracks.

Letting him go now is the right decision.

That doesn't make it any easier. In fact, I'm pretty sure it's the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I fall onto my bed, unable to stop the tears from falling.

Thanks for thoroughly fucking me up, Papa. I hope you burn in hell.

The days following our breakup can only be described in one word. Hell.

I thought I'd experienced heartbreak before, but nothing I've ever felt even comes close to matching the deep void in my chest. And it's even worse because I know that Graham's waiting for me to call him. He's waiting for me to come to my senses and fix us. But I really don't know if I can.

I'm getting ready for bed four days later when I get a call. I suck in a breath at the sight of Ava's name flashing across my screen.

Shit.

I consider not answering, but I can't ignore her. After steeling myself, I pick up my phone, prepared for her to yell at me for breaking my promise and her son's heart.

"Isabella," she says softly.

"Hi, Ava," I murmur, bracing myself. "How can I help you?"

"Graham hasn't come home in two days."

My eyes widen. Out of everything I'd been expecting her to say, I hadn't even considered this.

"I have no idea where he is," his mother continues. "Did you two have a fight? He came home from lunch with your family completely distraught. He wouldn't talk to me. I was worried. He just shut down, the way he used to before. And now he's not coming home. Do you have any idea where he is?"

"No. We kind of broke up," I confess.

I hear her suck in a sharp breath. "Why?"

I try to think of the right answer to that question. In the end, there's only one.

"Because it was the right thing to do," I say weakly.

"That's bullshit," Ava states, and I'm a little taken aback by her swearing. "Listen to me, honey. If this is about Graham's position in the company, I can assure you that he's not going to lose it. I'll fight against Richard with everything in me and I'll make sure he eventually sees reason. My son loves you, Isabella. I know it with every fiber of my being. Which do you think he'll truly be unable to give up? You or the company?"

The question hangs in the air, coiling around me. I know the answer; I've always known it. I was just scared.

"What if we're making a mistake, Ava?" I ask vulnerably.

"You're young; you're allowed to make mistakes. But trust me when I say that falling in love is never a mistake. It's okay to put your trust in someone. It'll hurt sometimes, but at the end of the day, it'll be worth it."

I exhale softly, coming to a decision. "I'll find Graham."

She thanks me before hanging up the call. I get to my feet, feeling like a complete and total idiot. He told me he loved me and I practically spat in his face. He must be in so much pain right now. I'm a horrible person.

I send a quick text to the only person I know who could help me find him. It only takes five minutes after Katerina reads it for her to send me Graham's location, courtesy of her husband.

Katerina: I'm rooting for you both, Isa.

I expel a harsh breath. Now all I can do is hope I'm not too late. Enzo doesn't even question me when he sees me leaving the house. My family's been walking on eggshells around me the past few days, careful not to prod and respecting my privacy, which I really appreciate.

I take one of the cars and drive to the location Katerina sent. When I arrive there, I stare up at the building. Human beings can be so predictable.

Because, of course, Graham Steele decided a night club was the perfect place to drown his sorrows.

I make my way inside. A catchy pop song plays from the speakers, but the club isn't completely packed. The people who are inside simply sway to the music. It's a surprisingly chill atmosphere.

It doesn't take me long to find Graham. He and a couple of people are seated in a closed-off VIP section. I realize for the first time as I take in the scene in front of me that I'm seeing who he used to be.

One of his friends is snorting off a scantily clothed girl's stomach. His other friends dance, all tethering the edge of inebriation. Graham sits in the middle of it all with an arm tossed over the back of the long couch. He's holding a bottle of beer and he's all alone. He watches the people around him with barely any interest, like a king observing his subjects.

His eyes find me almost immediately, and they remain steady as our gazes connect. Black hair falls carelessly against his forehead, his full mouth pulled into a cruel smirk. My heart skips several beats. Four days suddenly feels like forever.

I hadn't realized how much I missed seeing him.

I stalk toward the closed-off area. There's a bouncer at the entrance who tries to stop me, but one icy glare has him backing away and allowing me entrance. I walk over to stand in front of Graham. His expression doesn't so much as flicker.

"Hey, Sunshine," he greets casually.

"What are you doing here, Gray?" I ask, trying to ignore the revelry around me.

He takes a long swig of the beer in his hand before replying. "I could ask you the same thing. For someone who hates scenes like this, you sure do find yourself here a lot," he notes.

"Whose fault do you think it is that I'm here?" I grit out.

"Surely it can't be mine. After all, I'm nothing but a guy whose heart you ripped out and then proceeded to step on."

Visceral pain follows that statement.

"I'm sorry," I tell him, guilt rippling through me. "Let's go home. We can talk there."

He doesn't even blink. "I'm not going anywhere with you, Isabella."

"Graham," I say, a plea in my voice.

"No," he retorts, a note of finality in his tone.

I tamp down some frustration. He's acting like a petulant child, although I don't point it out considering how angry he is at me. I need to get him out of here.

I look around the club as an idea starts to bloom. My eyes meet green ones.

"Are you sure you're not going to come with me?"

He leans backward, looking like he doesn't have a care in the world. "No. Goodbye, Isabella."

"Okay, then," I say.

I'm going to make sure he regrets that.