Isabella returned to the bedroom. Alexander was still sound asleep on the bed.
She lay back down, shifting from her original position facing him. She turned over, giving him her back.
After a while, she turned back to face him again.
She desperately wanted to shake him awake. To demand answers. Was Jacob alive or dead? Why had he done this to her? What truly happened two years ago?
But she couldn't. He was too cunning. His mind worked in terrifyingly deep, calculated ways.
Julian had said that a year ago, when she had tried to seduce him, his brother had likely discovered their affair long before. Alexander had simply bided his time, waiting until Julian found the falsified hospital death certificate before finally beating him. He had taken her away then, probably calculating that she wouldn't actually leave with Julian for good. That she would return to him.
Julian speculated that Alexander's initial plan might have been to use Jacob as leverage against her. But their relationship hadn't improved. Instead, her hatred for him grew, her emotional state becoming increasingly unstable. Then, his own brother betrayed him. So Alexander seized the opportunity, using Julian's betrayal to his advantage. This way, he could redirect her hatred away from himself and onto Julian. Make her stop fixating on Jacob. Make her settle down and accept her life with him.
The theory was frighteningly plausible.
If that were true… another question burned in her mind. Why was Alexander so determined to erase Jacob? Jacob was only three years old when it happened. Why swap his identity with that child, Zachary? Why be so cruel as to use another child's body to fake Jacob's death, forcing a mother to believe her son was gone forever?
Where was Jacob now? Was he even alive? That single voice recording she had heard – it was undeniably his. She could never mistake her own child's voice.
In the darkness, she squeezed her eyes shut, forcing herself to calm down, to stop the spiraling thoughts. She moved closer to Alexander, curling into his embrace. She draped her arm over his waist, holding him. The man, still with closed eyes, sensed her movement. His arm tightened around her. He rested his chin on the top of her head, holding her close as he drifted back to sleep.
Tears welled in Isabella's eyes. She didn't know why she had to endure so much. She no longer knew what to trust. She had no idea where her life was headed next.
—
Denver was cold. Besides the fun of skiing and the beautiful ice sculptures, there wasn't much else. They spent another day sightseeing, then booked a morning flight back to San Francisco for the third day of the new year.
The Sullivan family didn't have many close relatives, but there were plenty of distant ones. For two days after their return, a stream of relatives came to pay New Year's respects. They were aunts and uncles from the Sullivan family's hometown. Though they were elders, they came to pay respects to Alexander, a clear testament to the power he wielded.
Alexander didn't put on airs. He was polite and courteous to everyone. One elderly aunt, seeing how close they were, urged them to marry. "Alexander, you're not getting any younger. You should think about marriage. Your father had you in his twenties. Don't wait too long."
Alexander smiled. He glanced at Isabella sitting closely beside him. "It is time to consider it," he said with a laugh.
Isabella smiled along with him.
The housekeeper, Margaret, was still on holiday. After the relatives left, they cleared the teacups and dishes themselves. While tidying up, Alexander suddenly spoke. "Isabella, shall we get married?"
Isabella was washing dishes with gloves on. A plate slipped from her hand. It clattered loudly into the sink.
Alexander laughed. "Is that from excitement, or reluctance?"
She pressed her lips together and remained silent.
He took the gloves off her hands. "Let's hire two more housekeepers this year. They can take rotating holidays. You shouldn't be doing these things." He put the gloves on himself and continued washing. "It's fine if you're not willing. We're together regardless. Marriage doesn't change that."
Isabella moved closer behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, pressing her cheek against his back. "No," she said softly. "I'm willing. Let's get married."
A broad smile spread across the man's face. He turned around, pulling off the gloves. "Are you serious?"
She nodded. "Yes."
Alexander pulled her into a tight embrace.
He was usually a man who kept his emotions in check. This was the first time Isabella had seen him display such open joy.
He released her. "Is this too simple a way to propose?"
"It's fine," she said. "It's my second marriage anyway. I stopped caring about formalities long ago. We don't even need a wedding."
Alexander cupped her face, leaning his forehead against hers. "You might not care, but I do. I will give you the most romantic, the most magnificent wedding."
He leaned down and kissed her.
—
The café reopened on the sixth day of the new year. Alexander also returned to work.
Though the proposal itself was simple, the tangible token wasn't lacking. He gave her a dazzling diamond ring. The moment she arrived at the shop that day, the staff noticed. They gathered around her, chattering excitedly. "Isabella, did Mr. Sullivan really propose?" "That's so wonderful!" "When's the wedding?" "The ring is gorgeous!" "So envious!"
Isabella smiled. "Soon."
In the afternoon, Alexander called. He said an urgent matter had come up, requiring a business trip out of town. He couldn't pick her up. He wouldn't be back that night, but would return the next day. However, Margaret was back today, so she wouldn't be alone for dinner. He had already asked Margaret to prepare her meal.
She said it was fine. She could drive herself home.
After hanging up, Isabella paused for a moment. Then she sent a message to Julian. We need to meet. Wait for me in the mall's underground parking garage.
When she went down to her car later, Julian was already waiting beside it. Dressed in black, he blended into the shadows behind the vehicle, nearly invisible if one wasn't looking carefully.
She unlocked the car. They got in, one on each side. Isabella started the engine.
There were so many questions she needed to ask him. She didn't know where to begin.
Before she could speak as the car pulled onto the road, Julian reached over. His hand covered hers on the steering wheel. His fingers brushed against the ring on her finger. "You agreed to marry him? Why?!"
Isabella pushed his hand away. "You told me to pretend I knew nothing."
"But I didn't tell you to marry him! You—"
Isabella turned her head to look at his furious eyes. His clear, bright irises were so beautiful. "Julian, regardless of whether I marry him or not, regardless of what he did to Jacob and to me… I want you to stay out of whatever happens next."
Julian stared, his eyes narrowing.
"Go back to London," she urged, her eyes fixed on the road ahead.
Julian let out a bitter laugh. He turned to study her profile. "Isabella, I know what you're thinking." He ran his tongue over his back teeth. "Pull over. Now."
Isabella slowly guided the car to a stop on a quiet, less-traveled street. She kept her eyes downcast, avoiding his gaze. Her hands remained on the steering wheel. "I've long regretted dragging you into this mess between me and your brother. Julian, you shouldn't sink any deeper into this."
"Last time I fucked you, you weren't this adamant about pushing me away," he sneered. "What, starting to suspect my brother killed your husband again? Is that why you're so eager to cut me loose?"