Chapter One
“My sword was all I needed there.
It would suffice to right my wrongs;
To cut the knot of all those thongs
With which she'd bound me to despair,
That woman with her midnight hair…”
Madison Julius Cawein
The Black Knight
“Scout?”
The man Isadora had spent the last few hours with wore a matching expression of astonishment as he stared wide eyed at her family. Apparently, he knew her sister-in-law well enough to call her by her nickname.
They knew each other? How?
Isadora hardly had a chance to catch his name once her family arrived. They’d been across the street at the opera house—until her night took a terrible turn and literally knocked her down. If not for her new friend she would have been humiliated, but he escorted her out of the event before anyone could see the disgrace she was making of herself.
Up until this very instant she believed he was a true gentleman. Now, however, her brother’s scowl had her instantly questioning her judgment—again.
“What the hell are you doing here, Hughes?” Lucian barked, cutting off all small talk and placing a protective arm around his wife.
At the same time, he managed to insert his body between Isadora and the other man—Parker, was it? She frowned at her brother then turned her confusion on Parker. “You know each other?”
Deep regret flashed in his exotic eyes. “You’re a Patras?” He spoke her name as if it were a filthy word and she stiffened. “I thought you looked familiar. I should have known.”
Though she didn’t like the influence her last name typically carried, it had never earned that sort of revulsion. She looked to Evelyn and her brother then back to Parker. “I’m sorry, could someone please explain how you all know each other?”
“She’s my sister,” Lucian all but growled. “And she’s no one you should be talking to.” His glare dropped to the splash of wine that stained her gown and he turned his scowl back on Parker.
Parker hardened his stare, meeting Lucian’s glare. “If I’d known she was your sister—”
His words abruptly cut off as he glanced at her, disappointment narrowing his eyes. God only knew the kind of face she was making.
“Go ahead,” Isadora urged, keeping her voice calm and low, despite her rapidly beating heart. So much hostility filled the small bar. She was truly curious as to how he intended to finish that sentence. “If you’d known I was Lucian’s sister, you would have…?”
His mouth flattened and his gaze measured her from head to hem, eyes apologetic. “I’m sorry, Isadora. I had a great night, but…”
It was silly. He was just some guy she’d met at a party who happened to be nice to her. Her mouth curved into a shaky smile because that seemed more graceful than tears.
She put too much emphasis on the short time they spent together, misinterpreting his kind manners for something more. He was still being polite to her, but their earlier chemistry had twisted into a sort of gridlock. This was just an overall terrible evening.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, not able to handle one more ounce of rejection. “We should be going.”
He frowned and glanced at the table then back to her and her family. “No,” he said, brow tight with tension. “It’s not okay.”
“Quit while you’re ahead, Hughes,” Lucian growled.
Parker glared at her brother. “Fuck you, Lucian.”
She gasped as Lucian lunged forward, halted only by Evelyn’s small hand. It was amazing how easily she could reel him in when everyone else feared him. Well, almost everyone.
She turned to Parker to find a challenging glint in his eyes. His gaze softened as his focus shifted to her—ignoring her brother’s seething rage.
“I had a great night, Isadora. It didn’t start out as I expected and that part could have gone better, but I’m glad I bumped into you. Can I take you to get something to eat, somewhere we can talk so I can explain all of this?”
“Night’s over,” Lucian snarled. “Isadora, go with Evelyn and Toni back to the limo.”
Appalled, she spun and scoffed at her little brother. “Just who do you think you’re ordering around, Lucian?”
“You don’t know him!”
“I’ve spent the entire evening with him,” she snapped.
“Get in the limo,” he growled through gritted teeth.
It could have been the wine, but something gave her the courage to hold his threatening stare without blinking.
“I’ll leave when I’m good and ready.” Her eyes narrowed, silently daring him to give her one more order. She was sick and tired of men deciding what was best for her, putting absolutely no consideration into what she wanted. Her attention shifted to her sister. “Toni, you have your key, right?”
“Uh … yeah.”
“Good.”
If she had to, she’d spend the night at the hotel or take a cab home, but there was no way she was getting into that limo, ordered about like some dog. She turned and reached for Parker’s hand, which closed around hers, offering a quick squeeze.
“Isadora,” Lucian barked and that was all she could take.
Her head snapped around and she hissed, “Enough, Lucian! I don’t intrude in your personal affairs, so don’t trespass in mine.”
His temper visibly boiled as his jaw ticked and clenched, his eyes narrowing with unrefined dislike for her companion—which made her nervous. She had a terrible track record with men and her brother typically had spot on instincts.
Before she could decide if she was making a mistake, Lucian turned and stormed out of the bar.
Toni gaped and chuckled, apparently amused by the family feud. “I better go make sure he doesn’t kill someone.”
Evelyn rolled her eyes and leaned closer. “Good to see you, Park. Sorry about that. You know how temperamental he gets. You call me tomorrow, Isa.” She turned and went after her husband.
Isadora watched them disappear out of the small bar. Once they were out of sight, she tugged her hand from Parker’s grip. Her palms were clammy, her fingers shaking.
She had no idea what just happened or if she’d done the right thing. She usually trusted her brother’s opinions and listened to his advice. But she was done taking orders from half-informed men.
Something brushed her bare arm—Parker’s knuckle. “Are you all right?”
She looked him in the eye. “Who are you?”
“Parker Hughes.”
“How do you know my brother?”
“Scout was my best friend growing up.”
She frowned. Evelyn didn’t grow up like ordinary children. She’d had a terrible life, the sort no child should ever have to endure. “Did you meet her when she lived at St. Christopher’s?”
“No. I met her when she lived at the tracks.”
None of this made any sense. “What are the tracks?”
“A dark place where homeless people go.” He barely flinched as he said the words, which made her believe he was telling the truth. Holding her stare, he confessed, “I lived there, too.”
She dropped into a vacant seat, blinking as her mind worked to make sense of all this. “You … lived there? You were homeless?”
“Not always. When I was fourteen my dad was arrested. Then he killed himself. The courts took everything we owned, leaving my mother and I destitute.”
Oh, my God. “You’re that Hughes? Crispin Hughes’s son?” The Hughes name once had as much clout as Patras’s, if not more.
His eyes. She knew why they were so familiar.
“I saw you on television the day they arrested your father. You were just a teenager, a little younger than Lucian. I kept thinking how terrible it was that you and your mother were being exploited for your father’s crimes.”
“It was a long time ago,” he said, blanking his expression.
She studied him, unable to assimilate this man with that boy—and the one she now pictured living in poverty. “Why doesn’t my brother like you?”
“Maybe I don’t like him.”
Not appreciating his humor, she reminded, “He’s my brother.”
Parker drew in a slow breath and took the seat beside her. “You’re right. I’m sorry. He doesn’t like me because the woman I told you about, the one I thought I loved… It was Scout.”
“Evelyn?”
He nodded. “We grew up together in a place where there weren’t many kids. We sort of looked out for each other. In a way, I did love her and probably always will, but it isn’t the same as the way she loves your brother. I know that now.”
“Are you sure?” If this was some ploy to hurt her family…
“Positive. I’ll always care about Scout, but I realize now it’s more of a platonic affection.”
“How come I’ve never met you if you’re friends?”
“I’ve only been around your family one time and it was probably one of the hardest days of Scout’s life. I wasn’t there to interfere. She needed the support of friends. Lucian understood that, and I was there for her, but I left shortly after.”
It was all coming back to her. “When her mother passed.”
They’d all been so concerned for Evelyn, she’d hardly paid attention to the other guests. She did recall Slade being present, which surprised her, being that Lucian and Sawyer’s son rarely socialized anymore. Her brother had put all of his personal feelings aside in order to show his wife the love and support she needed to get through that tragedy.
“It was a sad day,” Parker murmured. “I couldn’t bear Scout facing it alone—even if she had your brother.”
“Then this isn’t the first time we’ve met.”
“Apparently not.”
She tried to recall that day and vaguely remembered going to Sawyer’s afterward, the funeral bringing back a lot of bad memories of her own mother’s passing.
She looked at Parker—really looked at him—noting how attractive he was, how assertive his features were. She liked the strong line of his jaw and the shade of his hair. Though she couldn’t discern the exact color of his eyes, they were so expressive she found them mesmerizing. And his smile was absolutely charming. He was lean yet broad and… How had she not recognized him before?
This was what Sawyer had warned her about years ago. So long as she was with him, she’d be blind to everyone else. Her brow pinched. “If you and Evelyn have this long history, how come you weren’t at their wedding?”
“Well, there’s the fact that your brother despises me.”
“Does Evelyn hate you?”
“No,” he said with gentle confidence. “But out of respect for her, I keep my distance from her day-to-day life. I guess it’s my way of making amends.”
“For what?”
“Let’s just say that my judgment wasn’t at its best a couple years ago.”
Her gaze lowered to the table, unsure if she should be grateful for his disclosure or run in the opposite direction.
“For what it’s worth, Isadora, I don’t wish your brother any harm. He’s good to Scout. I know he loves her.”
“Why is nothing easy?” She sighed and massaged her temples.
Parker’s slouching posture mimicked hers, as if he, too, sensed the loss of an opportunity.
“I don’t know what to do,” she told him honestly.
“I know you’re probably imagining the worst, but when you grow up the way we did, you tend to guard the things you care about, like a dog protects a bone.” His voice lacked the assuredness she’d heard earlier that evening. “Falling into poverty and breaking out of it was like a backward birth. It was painful, ugly, and I lost a bit of my dignity along the way. I can mimic the rest of them and hold my own pretty well, but the truth is, I’ll never be like them.”
He plucked at his cufflink, then brushed off his fingers as if the tiny accessory was somehow offensive to the touch. The troublesome thing about tuxedos was they really did mask a whole lot. It was hard enough trusting people she didn’t know, let alone trusting them when members of her family despised them.
“If you’re using me to somehow hurt my—”
“I’m not. I swear it. I didn’t even know you were a Patras until five minutes ago. Up until then, you were just a beautiful woman I wanted to know.”
She smiled, despite her conflicting thoughts. It was nice to hear an attractive man thought her beautiful—and not for her name. “I think I need some water.”
He stood and disappeared for a moment, returning shortly with a bottle. “Why don’t I drive you home? We had such a nice night and this isn’t how I wanted it to end, but maybe you need some time to think things over. Don’t decide anything tonight.”
“This might take a while.” And it wasn’t looking good for him. No matter how much she wanted to weigh her options, she rarely opposed her family. If Lucian honestly believed she shouldn’t trust him then she should go with her brother’s instincts. His intuition had always been better than hers.
“I can be patient.” He gave a half smile. “And you have my number.”
She was in no shape to make big decisions at the moment. She wanted to hear Lucian’s side of everything before she made up her mind. And what if tomorrow Parker was just some guy who came at the right time when she needed a distraction?
Her head was a muddled cemetery of unlived possibilities and she wanted to bury the ugly moments of this day far away from where they could never hurt her again.
“I think I need sleep.”
He nodded, a polite smile masking his thoughts, as he helped her stand.
The bar was crowded now that the event across the street had ended. Parker never let go of her arm as he guided her through the crowd, his other hand protectively resting on her lower back and she didn’t object.
People trickled out of the opera house as he led her through the limos snaking down the street. “My car’s with the valet. It should only take a minute.”
She waited as he handed the attendant his ticket. They stood at the edge of the crowd as the attendant disappeared to retrieve his car.
“Isadora?”
She turned at the sound of her name and, once again, the breath knocked out of her.
“Sawyer!”
For the love of God, someone get me out of here now!
His gaze shifted over her shoulder to Parker and he gave a clipped nod. “Mr. Hughes.”
Did everyone know him?
She turned and Parker made a polite grin, the sort reserved for colleagues and semi-familiar acquaintances. “Mr. Bishop. How are you?”
“I’m well.” Sawyer’s brow pinched, his expression otherwise blank as his gaze returned to hers. “Did you enjoy the evening?”
Her heart beat erratically, her gaze fastened to his familiar eyes, but not missing the woman at his side. “It was … unexpected.”
Whose words were they? Her brain seemed to be coasting on autopilot.
He frowned and took a step closer only to pause. “Your lip…” His hand lifted as if he intended to touch her but then thought better of it. “Did you hurt yourself?”
Her fingers self-consciously covered the bruise. “I was distracted.”
“Are you heading home?” he asked and she frowned, sensing implication in his question.
She glanced at the woman at his side and he followed her gaze.
“Where are my manners? This is Cassandra Birch. Cassandra, this is Isadora Patras, a good family friend.”
Friend? “It’s nice to meet you,” she said numbly, unable to touch the woman as she clenched her own hands in her gown.
“It’s been a long time,” Sawyer commented, as though thinking out loud.
“Yes.” She couldn’t blink or push her voice higher than a whisper. “It has.”
Parker handed the valet a tip and brushed a hand over her shoulder. “Are you ready, Isadora?”
Sawyer seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was in. He cleared his throat. “Well… It was nice seeing you.”
She couldn’t say the same. “Goodbye, Sawyer.”
Parker held her door and she awkwardly pulled her skirts into the car, some type of sleek white coupe. The door closed and she willed herself not to look back, shutting her eyes to avoid the view in the side mirrors as her heart pounded.
The driver’s door opened and Parker climbed in beside her. “Was that him?”
Jarred that he had somehow noticed something everyone else overlooked after only thirty seconds of seeing her in Sawyer’s presence, she swallowed thickly. She debated lying for a moment, but the evening seemed to be doomed, with one disaster after another, so she figured why bother?
“Yes. He knows you.”
“He used to be my boss.”
Opening her eyes, she stared at him. “You worked at Leningrad?”
He nodded. It must have been after she left. Otherwise, she would have read his application.
How had he gotten a job with such animosity between him and Lucian? “Patras owns a portion of that company.”
“I know.”
It seemed everyone knew everything. She was the only one in the dark. At this point she honestly didn’t care to figure out what made men act like boys. “Please take me home.”
He eased into traffic and she gave him her address as he plugged it into the car’s navigation system. Once he had an idea of where he was taking her, he turned the volume down. “He’s a lot older than you.”
“Twenty years.”
“How long were you together? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“We started seeing each other when I was twenty-three.”
“And how long since you’ve dated him?”
“We broke up less than a year ago.”
“So you were together for almost a dozen years?”
Impressed he’d figured it out so quickly, she nodded. “Give or take.” Although they spent years apart, her heart had never moved on.
“That’s a long time.” The GPS told him to turn and gave a few other instructions about mileage for the upcoming exit. “That makes you what, thirty-five?”
“Thirty-six.” She thought about the young boy on the television. “How old are you, Parker?”
“Twenty-six.” He was silent for a moment. “Does that bother you?”
It bothered her that age played such a great role in dictating her life, stifling her happiness in the name of propriety, deeming something beautiful as inappropriate until it almost seemed shameful when it never was. “No. Age is just a number.”
“I agree.”
He didn’t seem to have any more questions, but she had the urge to keep talking. He’d been very open with her after the confrontation with her brother and she didn’t want secrets between them, even if this was the last time she’d ever see him.
“No one knew—about Sawyer and me. We never told anyone.”
He glanced at her in the darkness then returned his focus to the road. “No one? For over a decade?”
“We weren’t together the whole time. I went to school. He did his thing.” She shook her head. “At first, we kept it a secret because of our age difference and his association with my father, but then… Those things stop mattering once you reach a certain age.”
“But you still kept it a secret?”
She nodded. “Some days I liked that it was ours, something that belonged to us that no one could take away, because they didn’t know it existed.” But in the end it was Sawyer who stole it from her. “Other times I resented feeling like a shameful secret.”
“Why didn’t you just tell people?”
“My father would have reacted badly, possibly threatened his position with the company. My brother was a close friend to Sawyer’s son.”
“Slade?”
Again, she was startled by how familiar he was with the players in her life. “Yes. There was a falling out of sorts between Slade and Lucian, so the timing never seemed right to tell my family about Sawyer.” She gave a small, humorless laugh. “It doesn’t matter now.”
“Do you still love him?”
If she didn’t, she’d be perfectly fine now, but she wasn’t. “Part of me will always love him, but he doesn’t love me.”
“Are you sure? The way he looked at you…”
“He doesn’t love me.” Maybe if she kept saying it out loud it wouldn’t hurt so much over time.
The rest of the ride to her house was quiet. Parker seemed to be in deep thought. When he pulled into her driveway, she hesitated, unsure if she’d ever talk to him again.
“Isadora, I have to tell you something and it might make you angry.”
Her stomach clenched. She couldn’t handle any more surprises tonight. “What is it?”
“The falling out between Slade Bishop and your brother… I had something to do with it.”
“What?”
He shook his head. “It’s a long story, but … your brother hated me and when Slade offered me a job he was furious.”
She scoffed, somewhat relieved by his explanation. “Despite what he might believe, Lucian doesn’t control the universe. He can’t forbid people from hiring who they want.”
It had been that sort of attitude that ruined their relationship with the Bishops.
“If one of my friends betrayed me the way Slade betrayed Lucian, I’d have been just as angry. It was wrong and I knew it the moment I accepted the position. I just didn’t care at the time.”
“Did you take the job to purposely hurt my brother?”
He didn’t hesitate to give her the truth. “Yes.”
This was all very worrisome. Not only was he wrapped up in some old rivalry with her brother, he was remotely tied to the Bishops. She pressed a hand to her forehead where it started to ache.
“I understand if this is too much for you.”
“It’s a lot,” she sighed, overwhelmed. “I’m still trying to process all the ways you know the people in my life and, to be honest, none of them seem to be singing your praises.”
Well, except for Evelyn. She seemed fine around him.
“I’d like to say it’s just a case of being the new kid on the block, but I have to take some accountability for my actions. I’m not proud of the things I did during that time of my life. If I could take back some of my choices I would, but sometimes our mistakes lead us to the right place.”
When he said things like that, sounding so genuine and open, she found it hard to believe he hid a mean streak. “Your history doesn’t match the person I met tonight.”
“People change. I’m proud of the man I am today. It took a lot for me to get to a point where I can say that and mean it. A lot can change in two years, Isadora. I’m not that guy anymore.”
She shut her eyes, exhausted. “What guy are you, Parker?” He openly admitted to showing people what they wanted to see and hiding behind a façade.
“I’m still trying to figure that out. But I know when a shoe doesn’t fit, and I’ve tried on enough in my life to know not to toss away something that feels … right.”
Was he talking about her? Was she a shoe? “I need time to think.”
He nodded. “Take as much as you need. I’m not going anywhere.”
A light flashed on and she suspected Toni had spotted them. “Thank you for driving me home.”
“My pleasure. I’m really sorry for knocking you down and…”
She smiled. “I forgive you.” But she didn’t know if the rest of his character could be redeemed.
He waited until she made it inside the house before pulling away. She’d barely stepped out of her shoes when her sister’s voice echoed down the steps.
“Ooooh, Lucian is mad at you. He was steaming the entire way home.”
And so it began.