Chapter 118

Isabella's delicate brows knitted together. "Arabella, Eleanor has never truly welcomed me. Securing the Whitmore family's backing is essential. Gabrielle holds the key to that."

Her fingers traced the rim of her wine glass. "If I can win her over, make her trust me, I'll be closer to becoming Nathaniel's wife."

Isabella had a gift for charming people. Sebastian, Arabella, and all the wealthy heirs in Nathaniel's circle adored her. Now she needed to work her magic on Gabrielle.

The Whitmore family's support was non-negotiable. They were Nathaniel's maternal relatives, and their approval meant everything.

Arabella nodded. "I'll keep searching for her. Honestly, I'm dying to know who this Gabrielle really is."

Back in the opulent private suite, Isabella noticed Nathaniel's absence. He hadn't returned since stepping out earlier. She moved through the lavish lounge and found him sprawled across a velvet sofa.

Nathaniel had been drinking heavily. His mood remained dark. His phone lay discarded on the marble coffee table. His long legs stretched across the furniture, one arm draped carelessly over the backrest.

His eyes were closed. The platinum watch on his wrist glinted as he massaged his temples.

Even now, Nathaniel's presence made Isabella's pulse quicken. Their attraction had begun with admiration - for his power, his wealth, his effortless dominance.

He commanded attention even in repose. The way he occupied space made her ache with desire. She approached silently, positioning herself behind him. Her manicured fingers began kneading his temples with practiced precision.

Nathaniel's hand dropped away. The tension in his jaw eased slightly.

A coy smile played on Isabella's lips. "You didn't even open your eyes. Do you let just anyone touch you like this?"

Nathaniel's arm shot up, capturing her wrist. With one swift motion, he pulled her onto his lap.

His hooded gaze met hers. "Who else would I allow, if not you?"

At thirty-two, Nathaniel's raw magnetism was undeniable. When he flirted, it carried a dangerous edge that set her skin ablaze.

Isabella laughed throatily, draping her arms around his neck. "Why didn't you come back to the suite?"

The question made Nathaniel's expression darken. Harrison's face flashed in his mind, stirring something restless within him.

"By the way," Isabella continued, "I ran into Harrison in the ladies' room earlier. You'll never guess what she said."

They hadn't spoken since Harrison moved into Willowridge University. Nathaniel's expression remained impassive. "Do tell."

"She called you her sloppy seconds!" Isabella's voice dripped with venom. "And implied I was... unclean!"

Nathaniel's eyebrow arched. A dry chuckle escaped him.

Only Harrison would dare say something so brazen. He could practically hear her biting sarcasm, see that defiant tilt of her chin.

Isabella traced Nathaniel's sharp jawline. His perfect features could make any woman weak. Her breath hitched as she leaned closer.

"Kiss me," she demanded, her lips hovering inches from his.