Chapter 218.

Isabel remained silent.

"I’ll pay every cent. If it is money, I can solve it."

His mother cleared her throat, and parted her lips. "You can’t solve this with money."

"Everything has a number."

His mother shook her head. "Not everything."

Christian’s jaw flexed. He looked at Isabel again. "How much do you owe her?"

Isabel finally whispered, "It’s not the Sinclair family we owe."

Christian frowned.

"My family is indebted to your mother. Just her." She looked directly into his eyes. "Not the Sinclair family."

Cold settled in Christian’s chest. He glanced at his mother.

She was watching him calmly. Almost patiently.

Christian looked back at Isabel. "Explain."

Isabel took a shaky breath. "When my father lost the company, your mother stepped in."

"And?"

"She paid debts that weren’t hers."

"Why?"

Isabel looked at his mother.

Christian followed her gaze.

His mother’s face was unreadable.

"She made an agreement with my father," Isabel continued. "That our families would become one."

Christian’s stomach turned.

"She didn’t just give him money." Isabel’s voice was barely above a whisper. "She bought the future."

Christian stared at his mother.

His mother didn’t deny it. Her eyes remained fixed on him. "It was about stability."

"It was about control." He challenged her.

"Watch your words."

Christian stepped closer.

His mother sat straighter.

"You think I’m going to let you destroy everything because you suddenly developed feelings for a girl?"

"Kylie has nothing to do with your arrangement."

"She has everything to do with it."

"No."

"She is the reason you’re standing in my bedroom late at night screaming about an engagement."

"I don’t want this."

His mother’s expression hardened. "And what exactly don’t you want?" She raised a brow at him. "You’re being selfish."

Isabel lowered the glass. "Christian..."

He turned toward her, and harshly cut her off. "Don’t speak to me. Don’t you dare."

She flinched at the sound of his voice. "I wasn’t going to—"

"I’m sorry." He rubbed a hand over his face. "This isn’t fair to you either."

"My family needs me to do this. Please cooperate."

Christian stared at her.

"You’re willing to marry someone you don’t love because your family owes my mother money?"

Isabel’s eyes filled slightly. "Yes."

"That’s not marriage."

"It is to people like us."

Christian shook his head.

"You think love is enough?" Isabel asked him. "Love should be no reason to get married."

"I think love is the only reason anyone should be standing at an altar."

His mother’s voice cut through the room. "That’s a beautiful thing to say when you’re young."

His mother stood from the bed.

She was still in her nightclothes. Still without makeup. Still looking slightly sleepy.

Yet somehow the woman standing in front of him felt more powerful than the polished version he knew from society events.

She walked toward the wardrobe.

Christian watched her.

She opened the wardrobe. Inside were garment bags. Several of them.

Christian’s brows pulled together.

His mother reached for one. She pulled it out, and then she pulled out another, and another. She unzipped one of the garment bags.

Inside was a wedding gown.

Christian went completely still. The room suddenly felt colder.

His mother looked at him. "The dress has already been selected."

Christian stared at it. "You’re insane."

"I am practical."

"You bought a wedding dress?"

"I had one prepared."

"For who?"

His mother’s eyes held his. "For the bride."

Christian’s chest rose sharply.

"Isabel?"

"Yes."

Isabel looked at the gown.

Her expression changed.

Christian turned toward her.

"You knew?"

She shook her head.

"No."

His mother walked toward the bed and placed the garment bag across it. "The venue has already been reserved."

Christian stared.

"I’ve handled everything."

"Cancel it."

"No."

"Mother, please." His voice dropped. "We shouldn’t hurt ourselves any further."

For a moment, his mother’s expression changed. A flicker of emotions almost human passed through her eyes, and then it disappeared.

"You’re not hurting me, Christian." She looked at him steadily. "You’re disappointing me."

The words landed quietly.

"I’ve done everything you’ve asked."

Her jaw tightened. She looked at him for a long moment. Then she glanced toward the wedding gown.

The white fabric lay inside the garment bag like a promise that had been made without either person standing in the room.

"You think this is easy for me?"

Christian’s brows pulled together. "You made it."

"I made it because I thought I knew what was best for you. I need you to settle down, Christain."

"And now you know I’m telling you it isn’t."

His mother looked away.

Christain watched her carefully.

"Mother."

She remained silent. She swallowed, straightened, and finally aprted her lips. "That girl is not worth throwing away your entire future."

Christian’s eyes hardened. "Kylie is not throwing away my future." His voice became quiet. "She is the first person who made me want one."

His mother’s lips parted.

He continued before she could respond. "You keep talking about my future like it’s something you’ve already written."

He glanced at the wedding gown. His eyes moved to the garment bags. "You picked the dress."

He looked at Isabel. "You picked the bride." Then he looked back at his mother. "You picked everything."

His voice cracked slightly. "But you forgot one thing."

"What?"

"To ask me."

Isabel stood near the door, still holding the untouched glass of milk. She looked between them.

Christian turned toward her. "Isabel."

She raised her eyes.

"I meant what I said. I’ll pay whatever my family owes your mother."

"You can’t."

"I’ll find a way."

She shook her head. "You don’t understand the kind of debt we’re talking about."

"Then I’ll spend the next twenty years paying it. Just recognize how unfair this is."

"Christian—"

"I’ll work."

His mother gave a quiet scoff.

Christian looked at her. "I will." He looked back at Isabel. "I won’t let you marry me because your family is afraid of what happens if you don’t."

Isabel’s lips trembled. "Why are you making this harder?"

His voice softened. "I don’t hate you, and I don’t blame you." He shook his head. "But I won’t marry you. Don’t wait on me."

She nodded slowly.

Christian looked at his mother again. "And you have twenty-four hours."

His mother’s eyebrows rose. "For what?"

"To fix this."

She stared at him. "Twenty-four hours?" She folded her hands across her chest proudly. "And if I don’t?"

Christian inhaled slowly. "Then I’ll handle it myself."

His mother’s face hardened. "You’d humiliate this family."

His voice was painfully calm. "You did that when you announced a wedding without the groom’s consent."

His mother’s eyes flashed.

Christian continued. "I don’t want to fight you. You’re my mother, and I would never want that."

He glanced at the wedding gown. "But this madness needs to end."