Blackmailing His Runaway Bride by Dance-is-me (carter reed .txt) 📗

Twenty Eight

"Charles, wait." Isabella broke the long silence between them and forced a stop to their collective steps as Charles made to open the door to his room.

With worry, he asked, "Is something wrong?" 

"No. Well..." Her fingers played with each other as her eyes wore an uncertain look, her lashes fluttering more than usual. "Maybe."

His legs changed position and he was gathering her arms into his hold in no time. "What is it, Isabella?"

She sighed. "I am just worried about your mother."

"What?" Charles was almost laughing.

"I know she is being ridiculous, but I think she is just trying to look out for you. She certainly doesn't want to see you getting hurt."

"Isabella..." After a deep sigh, Charles straightened his stance. "Let me ask you a question. And I need your honest answer." Isabella's nod urged him to continue. "Are you ever going to hurt me?" Isabella felt herself go pale on hearing that question. The guilt she had been trying to suppress, the one she had been begging profusely to stay hidden resurfaced. 

Then, after a quick tsk sound, Charles said, "I am not referring to that time, Bella. Yes, you hurt me before, but that was in the past.

"Oh..." Eyes darting off the man, Isabella tried to find her composure. The words that came after were filled with stutters that she couldn't help. "I... I won't hurt you. N-not again. I won't even dream of it."

As her heart tried to forcefully find peace and forget her sins for a second, Charles brought his tender touch to her hair, his fingers pushing back loose strands before he stroked the sides of her hair, a loving gaze in her beautiful eyes.

"If you are not going to hurt me, my mother has nothing to worry about. And I don't even get why she is so concerned about us." Isabella watched as a look of contempt briefly grazed his face. His thick voice lowered, and he continued, "I can't help but think she is scheming something. She is being too dramatic for my liking."

Fully understanding his point, Isabella shook her head in agreement. But she was not done. There was something that bothered her that she needed to voice. "But, Charles-"

He cut her short, his caressing touch on her head retracting. "Isabella..."

"Let me talk," she gently said, her hands finding his in the warmest way possible. "I understand that the way your mother is acting is quite bizarre. Trust me, I feel the flame of her actions as well. But she is still your mother, Charles. There is a strong need for you to talk to her in a much calmer way. Explain things to her better, help her see she has nothing to worry about."

"You don't know my mother, Bella." Charles squeezed her fingers gently after a gust of air escaped his lips, the breeze gently landing on Isabella's face. "She won't listen."

"But she'll keep pointing fingers at me, Charles. I know that she finds it easier to blame me for the choices you have been making and it will continue to be that way." Isabella's voice wore a certain plea and desperation settled in her eyes.

"Charles, I don't think I will be able to deal with the trouble that comes with vexing your mother. At this point in my life, all I wish for is peace." Isabella's forehead joined the look of unrest on her face as she wore a frown, her voice more tender. "I have gone through so much and now that I have a chance at finding that thing I desperately pray for, I don't want anything to ruin it. Now that I have gotten another chance to be with you, I don't want to find myself walking away again. 

So, please, reason with your mother, I like you too much to lose you again."

"My, my." With amusement in his voice, Charles made that tense moment take a playful route. The sides of his eyes smiling, he asked, "What is this? Are you falling in love with me all over again?" 

Looking sideways, Isabella folded her lips as she tried hard to hide the shy smile growing on her lips. At this point, the tug in her heart had dissolved.

 Suddenly, as Isabella relaxed into the moment, Charles took advantage of their posture. The hold Isabella's hands had on his was reversed and he used his firm grip to bring her closer to him as he did in the elevator.

"Charles..." Isabella whispered as her shimmering eyes met his.

"Let's continue what we started earlier," he suggested, his voice having a croak-like sound that seemed to be intentional.

Giving in to the moment, Isabella's toes tipped and her left hand found itself tangled in the mass of his lustrous hair. "That is a good plan, but, Charles, there is a tiny problem," she said after a dramatic sigh.

"What is that?"

Mischief all over her smile, Isabella leaned towards his ear and said, "I am feeling really sleepy right now." Then, she winked, left his hold, and swung the door open.

"Damn, you woman." Charles sounded like he was going to do what he wanted anyway. But in the end, all he did was lay beside her, and that was enough comfort for the woman who still had battles to win.

And, she fell into the embrace of deep slumber, his gaze was all she felt.

~

"Miss Kane, what do you think about it?"

"Ma'am?" Christina was tempted to rub her ears to check if what she had just heard was indeed what it was. The woman in front of her just proposed a plan that she did not envision.

And to top it off, the plan was very good. It was a little harmful but that didn't mean it wouldn't do the job.

"If you are going to keep zone out, I should consider moving on to the next woman on my list."

Christina adjusted herself upon hearing that statement that was filled with unrivaled pride. After placing her attention on the elderly woman, her curiosity was roused and she asked, "Your list?"

Mrs. Oxford gave a light chuckle. "Do you think you are the only woman I want for my son? The list is very long and if I want to be honest, you are the least worthy."

‍​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌‍