CHAPTER 60
Dinner that night was a tense affair — at least for Graham.
Marco, on the other hand, was in rare form. He was all smiles and charm, holding court at the head of the table like he owned the place, spinning one story after another about the fascinating people he’d met and the oh-so-incredible places he’d been. He played his part well — the worldly adventurer, the effortless entertainer — and Isla, despite the iron weight of her husband’s glare, managed a polite smile here and there.
But Graham? He didn’t play along. He sat like a storm waiting to break, his jaw tight, his arms folded as Marco’s endless prattle grated on his nerves like sandpaper.
And then Marco, always the snake, struck.
“Graham,” he said with that easy, smirking tone, “you really ought to take better care of your wife. Spend more time with her instead of…” He paused just long enough for the insult to take shape in everyone’s mind before finishing with a shrug. “Instead of playing in the mud at that construction site.”
The words hung in the air, and Graham saw red.
“And let Thornfield Manor fall into ruin like all your brilliant business ventures?” His voice was calm, but the bite was unmistakable. The satisfaction of landing the blow flashed in his eyes as he leaned back in his chair with a slow, mocking smile. “What was the last one again? The billion-dollar idea? Oh no, wait—” He snapped his fingers like he was trying to remember. “All your ideas were billion-dollar ideas. Funny how none of them ever actually worked out.”
The room went silent, and the color in Marco’s face darkened. But Graham wasn’t finished. Not yet.
“Let’s see… There was that company in Manchester, wasn’t there? Folded in less than a year. And the factory in Texas? Never even got off the ground. Oh—and my personal favorite—the luxury hotel that never saw a single guest.” He clicked his tongue with feigned sympathy. “You’re quite the visionary, Marco. Pity your vision’s never made anyone a dime.”
Marco’s smile slipped, but Graham wasn’t fooled. He knew his cousin too well — and if there was one thing more dangerous than Marco’s charm, it was his silence. A snake coiling just before the strike.
And sure enough, when Marco smiled again, it was sharp and ugly.
“Isla, darling…” Marco’s voice softened, but the malice in it was unmistakable as he turned his attention to her. Graham’s muscles tensed — but before he could stop it, the words were already falling from Marco’s lips. “I really, really hope you don’t fail in your… wifely duties.” His smile widened, cruel and gleaming. “Because, believe me, Graham hates failure. And you wouldn’t want to face the wrath of a man like that.”
The color drained from Isla’s face so fast that Graham thought for a second she might faint. Her fingers curled into her lap, her breath caught, and her eyes flickered toward Graham with something close to fear.
Because Marco had struck deeper than he could possibly have known.
It didn’t matter that he was just trying to get a rise out of Graham — because the words were true. Graham did hate failure. And Isla… she knew she’d been failing him since the day they were married.
She couldn’t give him what he wanted. Couldn’t give him her touch, her warmth, the intimacy he craved. And though he never said it outright, she could feel his disappointment — his frustration — every time he looked at her.
And maybe she did deserve his anger. Maybe she was the failure Marco had just painted her to be.
The silence at the table stretched like a wire, the air thick with unspoken accusations and wounds too raw to name. And when Graham finally spoke, his voice was so low and cold it sent a shiver down Isla’s spine.
“Marco, I think it’s time you remembered exactly whose house you’re in.”
The silence after Graham’s warning stretched across the dining room like a taut wire, and for once, Marco didn’t have a comeback. He sat there, his easy smile frozen and his eyes flashing with the first hints of true anger. But Graham didn’t care — his attention had already shifted entirely to Isla.
She sat still, her head lowered, her face pale and drawn. The laughter that had been so bright only hours ago was gone, replaced by a sadness that made his chest ache. She wasn’t eating. She wasn’t speaking. She wasn’t even looking up.
And in that moment, Graham knew exactly where the blame lay.
Not with Marco. The snake had only spread his venom — Graham was the one who had let it happen. He had allowed his own jealousy and frustration to push her away when all he ever wanted was to keep her close. And now, because of his own foolishness, she was hurting.
But no more.
She was his wife — and it was his responsibility to protect her, not just from Marco’s poison but from everything that threatened her happiness. He would make sure of it.
“Isla,” he said quietly, his voice soft enough to make her lift her eyes toward him. “When you’re done eating, I’d like to speak with you in my study.”
She nodded without a word.
Graham spent the next hour pacing the length of his study like a caged animal, tension coiling tighter and tighter with every step. The room that had once been his sanctuary offered no peace tonight — not when his mind was filled with thoughts of her. Of the words he was about to say. Of how she would take them.
When the soft sound of footsteps finally approached his door, his heart leapt into his throat. The door creaked open, and Isla stepped inside, her small frame hesitant but graceful, her eyes still carrying the weight of the evening’s hurt.
He waited — but only for a moment. And then he couldn’t wait any longer.
“I love you.”
The words burst out of him with none of the elegance or control he’d hoped for — simple, stark, and far too raw. And as they hung in the air, Graham realized just how badly he’d bungled it.
He hadn’t prepared a speech, hadn’t arranged some grand romantic gesture. No flowers, no poetry, no candlelit promises. Just those three words, spoken like an admission of defeat — and now his nineteen-year-old bride stood before him, staring up at him with wide, startled eyes.
God, what a fool he was.
“Isla, I—” He tried again, desperately searching for a way to fix this, but before he could get another word out, she was moving.
Suddenly, she was in his arms, launching herself at him with a force that knocked the breath from his lungs. Her arms wound tightly around his neck, her face pressed against his chest, and she held him so fiercely it felt like she never wanted to let go.
And he never wanted her to.
Her voice was a whisper against his skin, but it hit him like a thunderclap.
“I love you too.”
They stood there, wrapped around each other, as the world outside faded away. Graham held her as if she were the most precious thing he’d ever known — because she was. And when she finally tilted her face up toward him, smiling through eyes that shimmered like stars, he felt the ground shift beneath his feet.
She was radiant, glowing with joy and mischief, her smile a blossom finally opening to the sun. And as he drank her in like a man dying of thirst, Graham realized something that shook him to his core.
Isla was only nineteen.
She was still so young — still growing into the woman she would one day become. Her beauty, already breathtaking, would only deepen with time. And the thought of it… of watching her bloom into her most brilliant self while he grew older…
His heart pounded with a sudden, fierce ache.
One day, she would go to university. She would meet people — younger men, full of life and charm and free of the burdens he carried. And what then? When she stood at the height of her beauty and brilliance, would she still want the man who was already so much older than her?
The thought clawed at him, but as he looked down into her face — into the eyes that held nothing but love — he pushed it aside.
For now, she was his. And he would fight every day to make sure she stayed that way.
“You know,” Isla said softly, her eyes locked onto his, “I really thought you were so frustrated with me that you called me here to tell me something drastic… like you were going to leave me.”
Graham’s heart twisted at the very idea. He smiled, but there was a dark edge to it — a mix of exasperation and the deep ache he’d been carrying for far too long.
“Well, I was indeed so frustrated with you,” he teased, his voice dropping low, rough with emotion and desire, “that I was thinking of doing something very drastic to you…”
Her breath caught. “Like what?”
He stepped closer, his eyes blazing as they roamed over her face, her soft, trembling mouth. “Like taking you over my knee and spanking your bare bottom so hard you forget how to even think about flirting with another man.”
The heat in his words sent a shiver through her. But more than that — it made her want to reassure him, to make him understand that no one else had ever stood a chance. That no one else ever would. She took a step closer, reaching for him, but his expression shifted — the fire dimmed just a little as he looked away.
“But lately…” he started, his voice quieter now, heavier. “Lately, I’ve been feeling like you didn’t want me at all. Like you hated even the sight of me. You run away whenever I come near you. You won’t even look me in the eyes, and you avoid my touch like you think I’ll attack you the moment our skin brushes together.”
He was still turned away from her, but she could hear the crack in his voice — the hurt he was trying so hard to hide. And it broke her heart.
“You’re afraid of me,” he whispered. “Or… if not of me, then of the whole idea of being with me. And you don’t know how guilty I feel for hurting you that night. I—”
But Isla had heard enough. She couldn’t let him carry this pain — not when it was so far from the truth.
“No,” she interrupted softly, stepping toward him until she was close enough to touch. “If anyone’s been hurt, it’s you. And I’m the one who did it. By pulling away from you when I should’ve been holding on tighter.”
The sadness in her voice made him turn back to her, his brow furrowed. “Isla…”
“I didn’t avoid you because I was afraid of you,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “I was afraid of disappointing you.”
She looked away now, unable to meet his gaze, her fingers twisting nervously.
“Maggie told you, didn’t she? How I’ve had a crush on you since I was a little girl? How I used to doodle our names together in the back of my notebooks and daydream about the day you’d finally notice me?”
The blush rising in her cheeks was so sweet it made Graham’s heart ache.
“I never thought it would actually happen,” she whispered. “But then you did propose. And from the moment you did, I knew one of the biggest reasons you wanted to marry me was because you were attracted to me. And… you brought everything into this marriage, Graham. Money. Power. A home. Even my heart.”
Her voice cracked. “And the one thing I had to give you — the one thing you wanted — I couldn’t. I failed you. I couldn’t even give you that. And I was so embarrassed.”
The tears she’d been holding back finally fell, silent and slow.
“That night, when it all went wrong… I saw your face, Graham. The blood, the mess… you were disgusted. I saw it in your eyes. And I knew — I knew I’d ruined everything. Any chance we had at happiness… gone.”
“Isla, no—”
But she couldn’t stop now. “You couldn’t even look at me after that. And I thought… I thought you regretted marrying me.”
Graham felt like someone had punched him in the gut. Before she could say another word, he was moving, closing the distance between them and pulling her into his arms like a drowning man clutching a lifeline.
“You foolish, beautiful girl,” he whispered against her hair, holding her so tightly it was like he could fuse them together. “I was never disgusted with you. Never. I was disgusted with myself.”
He pulled back just enough to look into her tear-filled eyes. “I thought I’d hurt you. That I’d been too rough — that I’d scared you away from me. And I would rather die than hurt you again.”
His voice softened, his hands cupping her face with a gentleness that made her heart ache. “And even if you never share my bed again — even if you decide you never want me in that way — I’m still not letting you go. Ever.”
Her laugh was watery and broken, her face pressed against his chest. “Why?”
He grinned, the sound of her laughter filling him with hope. “Because…” He bent down, his lips brushing the shell of her ear as his voice dropped to a wicked whisper. “If I can’t have that sweet little body of yours… no one else can.”
Her entire face went up in flames, the blush so fierce it spread all the way down her neck. Graham laughed, low and warm, brushing a kiss against her temple.
“Now go on,” he teased, his eyes darkening just a little as he traced his thumb along her jaw. “Get rid of that snake Marco. Unless, of course, you want me to follow through on that spanking threat. Who knows? You might even enjoy it.”
The heat in his voice made her knees weak. And as she turned to leave, her heart racing, she knew one thing for sure:
She didn’t want anyone else but him.