Stealing Her (Covet 1)

Because for the first time in months, maybe in the last year.

He’d chosen us.

Over his father.

It was a meaningless breakfast, a few stolen moments. But it was enough to lighten the pressure on my chest, enough to make me smile.

I sighed in relief and then covered his left hand with mine. “Good plan.”

He just shrugged like he wasn’t sure why I looked ready to cry, but he did squeeze my hand back.

It wasn’t until later that morning when I was sitting across from Edward and Marla that I realized why his touch had felt foreign.

His hands had calluses.

Chapter Thirteen

BRIDGE

I thought I hated my father more than anyone on this planet. I was wrong. Marla was coming in hot to take his place, and I do mean hot. In the last hour she’d grabbed my ass twice, attempted to stroke my dick once, and was in the process of tugging up her skirt each time she crossed and uncrossed her legs.

I gripped Izzy’s hand because I didn’t know what else to do, or how else to get the point across.

I wasn’t a cheater.

And I would rather get hit by a bus than let her within ten feet of me without a hazmat suit available.

“Julian, son.” My father gave me a sly smile. “I know you have a lot going on, but I wanted to bring both of you in here for something important.”

Why did I feel like I was getting manipulated?

Why did this feel like another game?

“Of course,” I said with clenched teeth. I wanted to tell him to go to hell, but he was holding all the cards, and Mom had a full-time nurse now. She’d texted earlier to check on me and sent a selfie.

She was smiling.

Reading.

She had all her favorite books around her.

And her nurse was grinning in the picture with her.

Safe. Cared for. With enough money to stay living.

So I smiled at my father like he was my partner in crime when in reality I wanted to strangle him until his legs stopped kicking.

I had no updates on Julian, which only made things worse. I was stuck, and he knew it. Julian was still sleeping away the trauma done to his body, and I was the imposter taking his place.

“Once the buyout is complete, we’d like to announce the wedding.” My father smiled wide.

I stared at him like he was insane. Because he was. This was never part of the deal. What the hell was his angle now? Our agreement involved a job, not a wedding. Did he really think I’d stoop so low as to marry my brother’s fiancée?! How would that help Julian? As much as I hated the way my brother had treated Izzy, I couldn’t do that to him. Even though my reasons were honorable, I still felt like I was stealing his life while he fought for it day after day.

“Um.” I cleared my throat. “Shouldn’t we be focusing on the business deal with IFC first?”

“IFC is almost a done deal, son. We just need the paperwork signed next week. We’ll shake hands at the banquet this Friday, take pictures, and announce your wedding date!”

I suddenly felt hot in my impeccably cut, too-tight suit.

I tugged at my tie and stole a glance at Isobel. She’d gone completely still in her chair, her nails dug into my hand.

I didn’t blame her.

At all.

“Edward . . .” I hated the tone Izzy used, like she was trying to sound happy and in control when I knew she felt nothing but chaos inside. I could tell by the way she held on to me. Trapped between two Tennysons and a psycho soon-to-be mother-in-law.

Welcome to hell, folks.

“I thought we agreed on next spring.”

“We did,” my father said softly like he cared, even leaning forward to pat her knee. He disgusted me. “But that was before Julian almost died. We have to think about what would have happened to you. You aren’t in his will, you couldn’t even see him at the hospital, Marla had to take care of everything because you couldn’t. You’ve been a part of this family for years now. It’s time to finally make it legal.” He shared a look with Marla. “Should we tell them?”

Shit. Tell us what?

“Of course, darling.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek.

The woman could be his daughter.

I waited for the second shoe to drop.

Or for Julian to waltz in and say it was a prank, all of it.

“We were able to secure the club for next week,” my father announced. “Not only will you be a part of our family, Isobel, but it’s going to be the wedding of the year. Several designers have already contacted our publicity team, and you know how the press has been dying to get more details. It will be a welcome distraction from the accident. After all, we lost a lot of money that day. The only way to recoup losses is to get the contracts signed and to give the public, the media, the shareholders something else to focus on. You two.”