Crowned by Fate (Crowned 2)

He remains flat and emotionless, but I see the curve on the side of his mouth, just wanting to come out and play.

As if a magnetic force is being pulled from behind me, the hair on the back of my neck stands up abruptly and my muscles stiffen. Out of instinct, I find myself searching for Bryant, as if I need an anchor for my security. A safety net. His presence offers me the solidarity that his words do not.

The reason why my body has shut down had nothing to do with the fact that the room is erupting in loud bursts of cheers and clapping, and had everything to do with the way tension settled into my bones like walking through a haunted childhood memory. As if an invisible grip is squeezing around my throat, causing my heartbeat to slow. My breath becomes more desperate because I don’t know if this will be the final day that he decides to take it from me.

Bryant’s eyes stay on mine, and I can’t hide the panic that I’m feeling. I’m sure he’s sensing it. As if on cue, he stands from his side of the table and makes his way to my side.

“Bry—” I hear Stacey yap off opposite me, but she doesn’t matter. No one matters. The only thing that exists when I need Bryant, is me. I never should have second-guessed his feelings for me. The only woman who owned whatever was left of his heart, was me.

I need him beside me to get through this and he knows it. We may fight, we may hate each other at times, but he loves me when it counts.

Right now, it counts.

His hand comes to my thigh as movement out of the corner of my eye screams for my attention when two people take a seat on the other side of Max. I’m thankful he’s seated beside my father and not me.

Finally, I turn my face toward the man I thought I could trust. The man who was given me to protect, but did everything in his power to destroy.

“Father.”

He looks different. Older? His skin is worn, his smile rough and his eyes have lost the softness that they once held. Or maybe I’m now looking at him through the eyes of a woman, and not those of an innocent child who put all her trust in someone she shouldn’t have. There’s that filthy word again.

“Isa.” Father’s mouth curves in what I know is a fake, gentle smile. “I’m glad you could make it.” He takes a seat with my stepmom, Lydia, carefully falling to the one beside him.

I seek Bryant again, turning to face him. Our eyes connect like a loud clap of thunder on a still night. He leans in, bringing his thumb to my mouth and slips it between my lips while leaning into my ear.

“Just go with it, baby. You know these arms are big enough to catch you.”

I want to say that they didn’t catch me. They did absolutely nothing to help me when I was locked in a mental ward, but I’m guessing now isn’t the time and I’m almost certain he’s sick of me complaining about it. Aside from that, I don’t think I can form coherent words because my heart is still on cloud nine from those simple words that flew out of his mouth fluently.

I gulp, picking up my glass and pull away from Bryant. I don’t mean to pull away from him in an obvious way, and what he said was sweet enough to challenge Willy Wonka, but it also reminded me about the arms that I needed during the darkest time of my life, and how they weren’t there.

He growls softly at my resistance. “Still stubborn.”

“Isa,” Lydia murmurs from across the table. “It’s so, so good to have you home. We can’t express how happy it makes us feel.”

That’s when it hits me.

Placing my glass back to the table, I straighten my back. Bryant must sense my unease because he squeezes my knee in warning.

I whack his hand away from me while turning to see the cameras that are all flashing.

At me.

At everyone at this table.

Turning to face Max, I narrow my eyes. “What was your role in all this?”

Max licks his bottom lip before smiling. He covers his next words behind his glass but leans in close enough so I don’t miss a word. “Hmmmm, I’m not sure right now is the time.” That’s bullshit code for; ‘I’m hiding shit but I need enough time to form another lie to hide the other lie.’

Everything seems to make sense now. Why I’m here. At this table. With the cameras. This is yet another setup to make my father look like the golden man that America needs.

I clench my jaw while looking at Stacey. “I know she was your wife.”