25. Graham

My eyes track Isabella's movements as she heads for the bar and orders a drink. Once it arrives, she tosses it back, consuming it all in less than a second. After that, she makes her way to the DJ booth and says something to the guy manning it. I grit my teeth when she flashes him a flirty smile.

What the fuck is she planning?

When she showed up a couple of minutes ago, I thought I was dreaming her up. Then she spoke to me and I knew she was actually here and not some figment of my imagination. I wanted nothing more than to pull her into my lap and kiss her senseless.

Then I remembered what she said and my heart iced over. She said it to my face that she doesn't love me. And it fucking hurt.

I take another swig of my beer, watching uneasily as Isabella moves to the center of the dance floor. She looks dangerous in the low-cut top she's wearing paired with shorts and boots.

Fucking beautiful. And mine.

No, a voice corrects me in my mind. Not mine. Not anymore. I tip my head back and close my eyes because I can't look at her anymore. An eruption of cheers has me raising an eyebrow. One of the guys in the VIP section taps my shoulder, prompting me to open my eyes.

"Dude, who's the hot brunette?" he asks, pointing toward the middle of the club.

I curse under my breath when I take in the sight of Isabella dancing.

"Fuck me," I whisper.

Nearly every eye in the club swings over to her as she sways her body to a sultry rendition of a trending song. Every cell in my body ignites as I watch her dance. I'm torn between watching and stopping her but if I do so, then she wins.

I know this is her idea of baiting me. And I have no intention of giving in. That resolution, however, dies a quick death when one of the club-goers approaches her and grabs her by the waist. I'm moving before I even have time to think about it, my vision tinged red as I stare at the both of them. The crowd parts as I head to the middle of the dance floor. Isabella turns around as I approach, blue eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

I look away from her to asshole behind her.

"Leave," I growl.

Whatever expression he sees on my face has him gulping and scampering away. I turn to the infuriating woman in front of me and, with a groan of frustration, I haul her ass over my shoulder and carry her out of the club.

Her fists pound on my back. "Put me down, you caveman."

"Shut up, Sunshine. You're on thin fucking ice right now," I grit out.

I drop her as soon as we're outside the club. She stumbles a little once she's on her feet before smiling at me widely in a way that makes my chest hurt.

"Now can we go home?" she asks.

I roll my eyes. "You're a pain in my ass. Never do that again."

"I won't. I promise," she says earnestly.

After a brief moment of hesitation, I call us a cab. The ride to the penthouse is mostly quiet. I have no idea why she sought me out tonight. When we arrive home, my mother rushes to meet us. Her eyes narrow on to my face.

"Where were you last night?" she snaps.

I run a hand through my hair. "I slept at hotel. Sorry, Mom. I should have called you."

I just got so fucking sick of staying in my room and looking at the bed Isabella used to sleep beside me in. I needed an escape.

She nods before looking at Isabella at my side. "Are you two okay now?"

That's a question I don't know the answer to.

"We will be," Isabella replies.

I arch an eyebrow at that. She offers my mother a small smile before taking my hand and leading me up the stairs. Trepidation fills me as we head to my bedroom. I still don't know what she wants. She made herself pretty fucking clear the last time we spoke.

Deep down, a part of me knows she didn't mean what she said. She was just scared. But I also know Isabella, and if I push her too hard, it'll only make her push back. Which is why I left her alone, hoping she'd come back to me on her own.

She takes off her jacket once we're inside the room, sitting on my bed. I lean against the wall across from her and we simply watch each other for a few moments, unsaid words swirling around us.

Isabella breaks the silence first. "My father blamed me for my mother's death," she suddenly says, making my eyebrows rise in confusion. "You know she died from childbirth. He thought it was unfair that I survived when she hadn't. My mother was the love of his life. I think the only person he ever truly loved. And with her death, he became a cold, heartless man. A monster. Or maybe he always was, I don't know."

I stay silent, listening attentively as she tells me about her life growing up with her father.

"The first few years of my life, he mostly ignored me. He made sure I understood that I was nothing to him, useless, especially since I wasn't a boy. When he became Don, though, he suddenly remembered my existence. He thought he could use me, turn me into the perfect wife for some man in the future. A man who could take over his empire. But that wasn't the worst of what he did to me."

She tells me about the punishments and pronouncements he had her dole out on people. My hands curl into fists as I imagine all she had to go through. She was a child and she had to live every day of her life hearing that she was worthless. It makes me sick to my stomach that a man like that existed and that he treated her like that.

"He controlled my every action for most of my life. I wasn't free to do anything I wanted. Living with him was hell, and I had to survive that hell for the first twenty years of my life. When he died, I was so relieved, Graham," she says to me, her blue eyes haunted. "He no longer had control over me or my choices. My uncle took over after my father's death but he was much softer than him, less prone to cruelty. And then Enzo came along, and I'm so thankful that he did. My cousin saved us, all of us, including the twins."

I immediately resolve to be much nicer to her cousin, feeling an immense amount of gratitude to him as well. I walk to Isabella and sit down beside her, taking one of her hands and placing it in mine.

"You deserved so much better than that, Isa. You deserved the world and you deserved to have a happy childhood. And I'm so fucking sorry that you didn't get that."

She nods, her eyes becoming glassy. "Going through all that, it made me closed off. I didn't know how to connect with the people around me. I didn't date in high school, and I couldn't have experiences like most normal girls my age. I was always so scared that he would find out about anything that made me happy and that he would take it all away. So I stayed away from everything, built a wall around myself. When he died, the wall slowly started to thaw, but it wasn't until I met you that it completely broke, Graham," she says softly. "And I didn't realize it. You slid through the cracks so effortlessly, and it scared me."

"I know, baby," I say, pulling her closer.

She shifts until she's sitting in my lap and I hold her to my chest.

"I'm sorry I didn't say it back," she whispers. "I feel it, Gray. Acutely. I just?—"

"You can take your time," I say. "I don't need to hear it if you're not ready to say it, Sunshine. I can wait. For as long as it takes."

She lets out a soft breath of relief. "We can't fight like that again. I hated it so much."

"Me too, Isa. I thought I was going crazy."

She leans up to place a soft kiss on my cheek before placing one against my lips. "Thank you. For breaking down my walls," she tells me, eyes painfully blue and open.

"You never have to thank me for that, Isabella."

We're both completely drained, emotionally and physically. Isabella falls asleep against my chest. I settle her down on my bed before sliding under the covers and holding her close before sleep claims me as well. And for the first time in four days, I'm able to breathe a little easier.

Isabella and I are in the kitchen the next day and she's preparing breakfast for us. My eyes are fixed on her as she moves around the room, prepping her ingredients. She's chopping up some vegetables when she suddenly looks up at me, blue eyes fierce. I'm a little startled.

"You look ready to kill someone, Sunshine," I point out.

"I've been thinking about this a lot," she starts. "And I don't think you should let your father have his way."

That's so far away from what I was expecting her to say, I simply stare at her in surprise.

"Baby, I don't have much of a choice," I say slowly. "It's his company."

"I know it's his company, but you can't seriously tell me there's anyone else who actually works as hard as you. You gave your all to your job, Gray. I've never seen you as passionate about anything else. Well, except for me," she says confidently.

My lips curl up into a smile. "Yeah, and I've got you, so I'm good."

"No," Isabella states. "You're not losing your position. I refuse to allow it."

I place a hand on my jaw, a little amused as I stare at her. "And exactly what do you plan to do?"

"She can't do anything about it, but I can," my mother announces, walking into the kitchen

We both look up at her. She's in a nightgown, her brown eyes alert.

"Isabella's right, honey. You deserve that position. And I'm going to make sure he can't kick you out."

My gaze swivels between the two of them. They both have identical stubborn looks on their faces. It's a little scary.

"What exactly do you plan to do, Mother?" I question.

"You and I are going to see your father," she replies.

A few hours later, we're in the family's private plane on our way to D.C. I still don't know what my mother plans to do, but she seems pretty confident that she can change my father's mind. It's late when we arrive and we head straight for our house.

Mikayla's the first person we see when we get there. She stares at us in shock.

"What's going on?"

"Mom's on the warpath," I tell my sister in a low voice.

"Where's Richard?" Mom asks one of the staff passing by. The woman informs her that he's in his study. "I'll be right back, sweethearts," she says to us.

Mikayla and I share a look of confusion but we don't stop her as she strolls up the stairs. Instead, we wait patiently for her to come back.

"Is she actually standing up to Father right now?" I ask my sister, a little worried.

Mikayla grins. "I think so. If you ask me, it took her long enough."

I nod distractedly.

Thirty minutes later, our mother reappears. Her expression is carefully blank as she approaches us.

"Graham, your father will see you now," she tells me.

I cock my head to the side. "What did you say to him?"

"You don't need to know, honey. Just go talk to him."

"Fine," I mutter, heading in the direction of his office.

I knock on the door and hear him call for me to enter a minute later. When I enter, I find him seated on the couch, holding a glass of whiskey. He takes a small sip as he studies me.

"You came back."

"Not of my own free will," I state.

"No, you got your mother to fight your battles for you," he jabs.

My jaw clenches but I refuse to argue with him.

"Sit down, Graham," my father finally says, gesturing opposite him.

I lower my body into the chair, waiting for whatever it is he has to say. It's a long moment before he speaks.

"Do you remember when you were thirteen years old? You and your brother were participating in a competition that required you to invent a technological device."

"Of course I remember. That was the first time you kicked me out."

"A punishment you deserved."

I don't argue that point. Isabella made me see how selfish and entitled I had acted when I was younger. I didn't always make the best choices.

"Is there a point to this?"

"Yes. Do you remember the gadget you invented? You created a security device that made use of facial recognition software. I'm not sure if you're aware, but when I found out about your invention, I looked at the plans and pitched the idea our developers at the company. They fixed it up, made it better, and then we launched it, called it the identity sphere."

My fists clench. "Of course I'm aware."

I just never brought it up because I didn't think it mattered. At the end of the day, I was still kicked out and punished for my mistakes.

"The identity sphere recorded the highest sales our company had ever seen that year. It did exceptionally well," my father informs me. "Something you created, Graham."

That surprises me. I had no idea it was such a success. Probably because he didn't tell me.

"Is this some sort of thank-you?" I question, confused.

"No. I'm not going to thank you for contributing to our family's empire. But I do want you to know that I see your efforts. I'll be honest, you weren't my first choice. You're too brash, hot-headed, and I assumed you had no sense of duty or responsibility. But that's changed in the past year. You've matured a lot."

Do my ears deceive me or did my father actually just compliment me?

He continues. "Your mother was just in here and she practically threatened me. She said she would never forgive me if I took the company away from you."

My eyes widen. I can't believe my mom said that. And I can't believe it worked. He looks discomfited at the thought, and it's the first time I realize that he actually does care about her. Somewhere deep inside him, he has a heart.

"Although I was under the impression that you were the one walking away from it," my father states.

I swallow against the lump in my throat. "You told me I couldn't be with the woman I love."

"Because her identity is a complication."

"I don't care about her identity."

A strange look passes over my father's face. "Yes, I can see that now. Alright, Graham. You win."

My eyebrows rise. "I'm sorry?"

"I'm going to let you be. Continue to see this Russo girl if that's really what you want."

I feel a little lightheaded at that statement, unwilling to believe those words are actually coming out of my father's lips.

"I'll be stepping down in a couple of months. With regard to whether you will be my successor, the decision will not be up to me. There'll be a vote by the members of the board. If you lose, then what happens next is entirely out of my hands."

My throat dries. "I'm not going to lose," I state.

"You won't if you work hard enough," my father agrees. "You can go. I'm done speaking."

I get to my feet, feeling a little dazed. Did the past few minutes really just happen? I leave my father's office and head downstairs to my mother and sister, who make me recount the entire conversation. Once I'm done, my mother gives me a hug.

"I'm so proud of you, Graham," she says softly.

Mikayla's even happier about the turn of events than me. She grins, reaching up to kiss my cheek. "You'll be the best CEO, big brother."

A part of me can't believe that the path ahead is suddenly so clear. I have what I've always wanted.

And even better, I've got the woman of my dreams.