chapter 9

Isabella's pov

The warm water rushed over my hands as I rinsed the last plate, the bubbles clinging stubbornly to my skin. My thoughts, however, weren’t on the dishes. They were back in Julian’s study, replaying his words like a cruel echo.

"You’re not even my type."

The way he had scanned me up and down, his eyes dripping with disdain, still burned. I should have been furious, but instead I found myself embarrassed. Embarrassed for even assuming he wanted me in that way. My pride felt crumpled, like the damp dish towel I was squeezing too tightly.

I sighed, staring at my reflection in the kitchen window.

“What did I even do to end up in this mess?”

Before I could answer myself, his voice cut through the quiet.

“Stop daydreaming.”

I spun around, startled, to see Julian leaning against the doorframe, hands buried casually in his pockets as if he owned not just this mansion, but the air I breathed.

“Dress up. We’re going shopping,” he ordered flatly.

I blinked at him, “Shopping? Why?”

His eyes narrowed, a familiar sneer tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Do you plan on wearing those rags forever? You look like a charity case every time you go out.”

The insult hit sharper than I wanted to admit. My throat tightened, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me break. Without a word, I quickly dried my hands and walked past him, heading upstairs.

In my room, I pulled out the only good outfit I have, faded jeans and an old hoodie. The hoodie was soft with age, stretched out at the wrists.

As I tugged it over my head, a bitter laugh escaped me.

Nathan never once took me shopping. Not once. All he ever did was take my money. Every paycheck, every little saving gone. And I let him, I actually let him.

I sank onto the bed for a moment, tying my sneakers with trembling fingers.

“How was I that stupid?” I whispered to myself.

When I finally came downstairs, Julian was already by the door, sharp in a dark suit that looked like it had been stitched by angels. He didn’t even spare me a glance. Without a word, he stepped outside, the sound of his polished shoes echoing against the marble floor.

I pressed my lips together, swallowing the urge to say something, anything. Instead, I followed him, clutching the strap of my worn out bag as if it could shield me from his indifference.

The sleek black car waited, gleaming under the afternoon sun. Of course. Nothing about Julian was ever ordinary. He opened the driver’s door and slid in without hesitation. No offer or gesture.

I exhaled slowly and walked around to the passenger side. The leather seat swallowed me up as I settled beside him, the faint scent of his cologne filling the space clean, sharp, maddeningly expensive.

The engine purred to life, and we drove off.

The silence was deafening. No radio, no humming of words to break it. Just the steady rhythm of the car gliding over the road. I kept my gaze fixed on the window, watching buildings blur past, while my mind churned.

Why did it feel like every time I was near him, I had to shrink smaller and smaller, just to breathe?

I stole a glance at him. His jaw was tense, hands gripping the wheel with controlled precision. He didn’t look at me.

I shifted in my seat, crossing my arms. The quiet was too heavy. Too suffocating.

“Do you always drive like someone stole your emotions?” The words slipped out before I could stop them.

His head turned slightly, one brow arched. “Do you always talk this much?”

Ouch. I bit my lip, heat creeping up my neck.

Still, my mouth refused to shut up. “I was just trying to make conversation. You know, normal human interaction.”

“So… is this a kidnapping, or do you always drag your employees shopping?”

His jaw flexed, a muscle twitching there. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

The corner of my lips twitched, but I forced myself not to laugh. “Oh, sorry. My bad. I thought maybe this was your version of a date. Silent treatment and all.”

That made him finally turn his head just slightly, those icy blue eyes cutting through me. “If I ever take you on a date, you’ll know.”

My heart gave a stupid skip, and I quickly looked away, cursing under my breath. Why did his stupid voice have to sound like velvet and steel wrapped together?

Thankfully, the car rolled to a stop in front of the grand glass doors of a luxury mall, saving me from choking on my own tongue.

I blinked at the massive building, the sparkling lights, the kind of place you only saw in magazines. My entire closet at the moment consisted of three faded jeans, two hoodies, and that ridiculous maid uniform.

“Why are we here?” I asked, hugging my hoodie closer.

Julian stepped out, not even glancing my way. “Because my wife shouldn’t look like a beggar.” My chest tightened, heat shooting up my neck. He actually called me his wife. For one insane, embarrassing second, my heart fluttered like some teenage girl hearing her crush say her name.

But then reality smacked me in the face with the last part of his sentence. Beggar.

My cheeks burned hot, caught between humiliation and something I refused to name. Did he have to phrase it like that? Couldn’t he just say he wanted me to look… decent? Respectable?

Instead, he tossed the word “beggar” at me like a dagger, sharp and cold, right after dropping the “wife” bomb that made my stomach twist in ways I wasn’t prepared for.

I swallowed hard, lowering my gaze so he wouldn’t see the confusing storm on my face. The automatic glass doors slid open, and the chilled air of the luxury mall hit me like another reminder that I didn’t belong here. Everywhere I looked, it was polished marble, glittering chandeliers, and boutiques with displays so fancy they looked like museums.

Julian slipped a sleek black card into my hand. His voice was calm, clipped, as if he were giving orders to a stranger.

“Pick anything you want and pay with this.”

“W…what?” My voice cracked.

“You heard me,” he said, already checking his phone. Then without looking at me, he added, “Don’t embarrass yourself.”

And before I could argue, he walked away to answer a call, leaving me rooted to the spot with the card burning in my palm.

I was still staring at it when a voice sliced through the air like a knife.

“Well, well, well. Look who it is.”

My stomach plummeted.

Sarah.

She stood in front of me with a smirk that could peel skin, her designer bag slung over one shoulder. Every inch of her screamed expensive and smug.

“What are you even doing here, Isabella? This place is way out of your league.” She sneered, her eyes raking over my hoodie and jeans. “You can’t even afford thrifted clothes, let alone shop here.”

My throat tightened, I wanted to walk away, but my feet wouldn’t move.

Her gaze flicked to the black card in my hand, and her smirk sharpened. “Oh. My. God. Don’t tell me…you stole this?” Her voice rose, loud enough to draw stares. “Wow, Isabella. From waitress to thief, huh? I should’ve known.”

I froze, heat crawling up my neck. People were starting to glance our way, whispering. My heart slammed against my ribs.

Sarah took a step closer, her voice venomous now. “Nathan never loved you, you know. Not once. You were just… convenient. He said it himself, your body was boring, nothing compared to mine. He only enjoyed my…” And then… everything stopped.

A shadow fell across us, tall and commanding. In the next heartbeat, a firm hand slid around my waist, pulling me against a solid chest.

Julian.

I stiffened, my breath caught in my throat as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to my cheek. The touch was fleeting but hot, burning through my skin. My heart stuttered violently.

When he straightened, his blue eyes locked on Sarah, cold as steel. His voice was calm, deep, but laced with anger.

“Why,” he asked, each word deliberate, “are you embarrassing my wife?”

Sarah’s mouth dropped open. She blinked at him, utterly lost for words.

“W…wife?” she stammered, glancing between us, her confidence shattering like glass.

Julian’s hold on me tightened, his thumb brushing my waist in a way that made my knees weak. He tilted his head slightly, scanning Sarah like she was something stuck to his shoe. Sarah’s smirk faltered, her eyes darting between us like she’d just seen a ghost. Then Julian leaned down, his voice low, sharp enough to slice the air.

“Who is this baby?”

His words weren’t for Sarah, they were for me. His piercing blue eyes locked on mine, waiting, demanding.

My breath hitched. Baby? Did he just…? My heart hammered against my ribs, heat flooding my cheeks until I was certain the whole mall could see how red I was.

Before I could answer, before I could even think, he pressed a slow kiss to my cheek again. My entire body stiffened, every nerve alight.

Sarah gasped behind me, but I couldn’t even look at her. My knees felt like water, my mind like fog.

Julian straightened, his arm still around me, as if daring the world to question what he had just done.