Chapter 217

"Shut this down."

Christian’s voice tore through the quiet hallway. He didn’t slow down, or knock.

He shoved his mother’s bedroom door open so hard that it struck the stopper with a sharp crack.

"Fucking shut this down!"

His words echoed through the room.

The lights were dim, and the curtains were drawn.

The room smelled faintly of strawberry, and the only sound was the quiet hum of the air conditioner.

Then the woman lying in the enormous bed moved. She slowly lifted one hand to her face.

Her fingers rubbed over her eyes.

Christian stopped.

He stared.

His mother blinked sleepily, looking completely unlike the woman he had grown accustomed to seeing at boardrooms, charity dinners, family meetings, and society events.

Her hair was loose. There was no makeup on her face, no jewelry, and no carefully arranged expression.

She looked... Asleep.

Christian had never seen her asleep before. Not once. Not even as a child.

His mother had always seemed like someone who simply stopped existing behind closed doors and reappeared fully assembled whenever the world needed to see her.

He had never imagined her in a bed.

She pushed herself upright slowly, blinking at him.

"It’s ten p.m., Christian." Her voice was thick with sleep.

Christian stared at her for another second. Then the anger returned.

"Go live right now."

She frowned. "What?"

"Go live." His voice was low now. Dangerously controlled.

"Get your phone. Call your publicist. Call whoever the hell you need to call. Go live and tell everyone there will be no engagement between me and Isabel Dolce."

His mother’s eyes sharpened.

Christian stepped farther into the room. "The same way you announced an engagement that never existed, end it."

She stared at him. Then she slowly pulled the blanket away from her legs.

"Christian—"

He lifted a hand. "Say nothing more han fixing this."

"You barged into my room—"

"Because apparently nobody in this house understands the meaning of the word no."

Her expression hardened. "I think you’re being dramatic."

"Dramatic?"

A humorless laugh escaped him. "There’s a photograph of me and another woman all over the internet."

"I’ve seen it." His mother looked almost bored.n"I am in my bedroom."

"They’re destroying her."

His mother’s expression barely changed.

"They’re calling her names. They’ve gone through her entire life. Her photographs. Her friends. Men she’s stood beside. They’re turning everything into something disgusting."

His mother reached for the glass of water on her bedside table. "And?"

Christian stared at her. "And?"

"Yes." She took a sip.n"Is the girl dying?"

His jaw tightened.

"Is she?"

"No."

"Then she’ll survive a few unpleasant comments."

Christian’s face hardened. "You don’t care."

His mother lowered the glass. "I care about what matters."

"Kylie matters."

His mother’s eyebrows lifted.

Christian could see the calculation happen behind her eyes.

His mother smiled faintly. "You’re serious. And this is why you’re demanding that I cancel an engagement?"

"You never had an engagement to begin with."

"I announced it."

"You announced something you had no right to announce."

"I am your mother."

"That doesn’t make my life yours." he snapped at her.

His mother blinked in suprise.

Christian’s breathing was heavier now. He had spent years swallowing these arguments. Years allowing her to arrange things because fighting her seemed exhausting.

He had tolerated it because it had been easier. Until Kylie. Now every decision she made felt like an intrusion.

His mother placed the glass down. "You are angry."

"I am not marrying Isabel."

His mother looked at him for several seconds. Then she sighed. "You’re behaving like a child."

"I respect Isabel too much to drag her into a sick marriage."

The bedroom door opened.

Christian turned.

Isabel stood there. She held a glass of warm milk in both hands. She had clearly not expected to find him there.

Her eyes widened. "Christian?"

He looked at her. Then at the glass, and back at her. "Isabel." His voice was sharp, and unwelcoming.

She stopped.

His mother said nothing.

Isabel slowly stepped into the room. "I brought your mother some milk."

Christian gave a short, humorless laugh. He gurned to his mother. "Perfect daughter. Am I right?"

Isabel looked between them. "What happened?"

"Tell her." Christian turned back to Isabel, and pointed toward his mother. "Tell her you don’t want this marriage."

Isabel froze. "Christian—"

He walked toward her. "You don’t want this."

She looked uncomfortable.

He lowered his voice. "Say it."

Isabel’s fingers tightened around the glass. "Christian, this isn’t the place—"

"It is exactly the place." He turned slightly toward his mother. "The woman who announced our engagement is standing right there."

He looked at Isabel again. "You don’t want this marriage. Say that to my mother."

Isabel swallowed. "Christian..."

"Don’t hold back." he urged her.

His voice softened, somehow making it more intimidating. "Marriage isn’t a walk in the park."

She didn’t say a word.

Christian waited.

His mother watched them both.

Isabel finally looked at her. She held her mother’s gaze for several seconds. Something passed between them.

The look was too quiet, and too practiced. Then Isabel looked back at him.

"I want it."

Christian frowned. "What?"

"I want it." She said it softly. "I’ll marry you."

Christian stared at her in silence.

His mother remained perfectly still.

Christian shook his head slowly.

Isabel stepped closer.

"You don’t want this."

"I do."

"You don’t even know me."

"I know enough."

"No, you don’t."

"I know your family." Isabel’s eyes flickered. "My family is heavily indebted to your mother."

Christian’s expression changed. "What?"

Isabel looked away. "My family owes her."

"How much?"

She didn’t answer.

Christian stepped closer. "How much?"

"Christian—" His mother warned.

"Name the debt."

"It isn’t that simple." Isabel said quietly.

"Name it." His voice cut through the room.

Isabel looked at him. "You don’t understand."

"Then explain it." Christian waited.

"She helped us."

"How?"

"Loans."

"I’ll pay them back."

Isabel blinked. "What?"

Christian didn’t hesitate. "I’ll pay them."

His mother finally spoke. "Christian."

He ignored her. "How much?" He asked Isabel.

Isabel shook her head. "You can’t."

"Try me."

"Christian."

"How much?"

She looked down at the glass in her hand. "You don’t understand what she did."

"Then help me understand." He desperately asked.

"She saved us."

"Fine." Christian’s eyes didn’t leave hers. "Tell me the amount."