Reed, debonair in tailored, blue wool dress pants and a crisp, white shirt, entered the library. Isla’s heart fluttered. It was a schoolgirl reaction, but he always did such a thing to her. Most of the time she ignored it, but as he focused his attention on Jules, who stood in front of Isla, she could not disregard the delight in her heart.
Her sister-in-law was more than happy to let her rummage her sprawling closet. Carys purchased new clothes for Jules at her favorite boutique in West Palm and had a sales associate drop the clothes off at the house. She shoved off Isla’s disapproval and assured her it was what aunties did. Carys also added a silk maxi dress for Isla. Reporters had camped out in front of her and Reed’s house, and Isla didn’t want to contend with the media.
Jules didn’t seem to mind; in fact, she enjoyed playing fashion show with Carys. It felt normal. In a short amount of time, chaos warped to normalcy. Not in everyday life, but the Pierces weren’t ordinary people.
“Hello, Jules.” Reed extended his hand to her. “I haven’t had the pleasure of being formally introduced to you. I’m Reed Pierce.”
She accepted his kind gesture. “I remember you helped us escape. It’s nice to meet you.”
So far so good.
“Do you know who killed Henry?”
Never mind.
Reed knelt down. “No, but we aren’t going to stop until that person or persons pay for his death.”
“Am I . . .” Jules glanced up at Isla. “Am I part of your family?”
“You are indeed, and I would be honored someday, when you’re ready, to be your father.”
Tears filled Isla’s eyes, and it didn’t help hearing Carys sniff and blubber behind her. Gavin consoled his wife, handing her tissues, the most affection Isla saw from him in a long time.
Conversation flowed between them. Jules was the center of attention and amused Gavin and Reed with her quick wit. Carys and Isla whispered in the corner about the remaining corporations under Amaranthine while sipping wine. The media vampires still camped out beyond the estate gates. The family would remain under tight quarters until Ellis’s memorial. Isla looked forward to seeing Martin.
“Do you think Mia will start trouble?” Carys asked, pouring another glass of wine.
“Of course she will. She’s Martin’s offspring.”
“I can’t believe she’s free. You need to get Crosby’s dad out.”
“I will after the memorial.” Isla ticked her head toward Jules. “I don’t want her at the church. She’ll stay here with Rosa, and I want security at all areas of entry.”
“Absolutely. Gavin and Reed will be armed at the church.”
“As will I.”
Reed joined the women, but Carys quickly retreated over to Gavin and Jules as they set up a chessboard.
He kissed Isla’s neck. “What were you two plotting over here?”
“The usual — what firearms to bring to a memorial service.”
“Of course.” He looked to Gavin. “I’ve never seen him this way. He’s quite good with her.”
“So are you.”
“She’s a special girl. Intelligent and observant, much like her mother.”
“As much as I would hate to dampen the day, we must talk business.”
“I agree. We should remain here but stop by our house for what you need. I went there before coming to the estate. All your computer equipment is readily available for anyone to break in and snatch up.”
Isla playfully patted his cheek. “Like I don’t have a Plan B?”
“I have no doubt you do.”
The area on his chin where she punched him had healed. She ran her hand over the spot, his stubble tickling her palm. He’d escaped the safe house with a few scrapes on his arms and back.
“I’m sorry for hitting you. It was uncalled for.”
“I’m not.” Reed laid his hand on top of hers. “It gave me hope that you cared for me.”
The first time she met Reed, Isla found him attractive but distant, perfect for her since she wasn’t looking for love. She was looking for power and safety for Jules. They led separate lives for a long time, but with each passing year, they grew closer. She respected Reed. Isla sought his advice for specific jobs Ellis assigned to her. He feared for her safety, but she assured him she’d been through worse and could take care of herself.
At some point, her respect evolved into fondness, with the occasional shared joke or stolen glance. Carys pointed out each occurrence. Annoyed, Isla sloughed it off.
Fondness evolved into — denial — love. Their bed was cold without him. Isla read Plato’s theory of love when she was in school. Love was the remedy for old wounds. Love was salvation.
She skated around the word except when it came to her daughter. Her love for Jules was pure and real. Love for a man? She avoided it altogether.
Ellis knew what he was doing when he recommended her and Reed, same with Carys and Gavin. No love, all business, but unified in supremacy. He had to double his efforts since his other two children walked away from family matters.
Isla believed pain wasn’t evil; the person inflicting it was. Pleasure was bad. It was considered a vice. Such a theory was flawed because at times people weren’t aware they were the inflictor, and pleasure stretched among a spectrum. Isla had made a choice, and she chose love and family, even if it meant her life.
Ronan’s biblical threats corroded the outer layer of her heart, but somehow Reed, Carys, and even Henry had worn the coating thin. She wasn’t heartless, as some believed her to be. Isla was finding her way, finding herself.