Page 84 of The Heir
My eyes roam everywhere as I take in the elegant foyer, beautiful tables and fireplaces, double staircase with crystal chandelier. There's so much light, and it's bright and airy. The rooms are teeming with plants and real curved olive trees in terracotta planters. We make our way into an expansive dining room that's so large that there aretwolong sideboards that boast what's probably priceless china, and it's decked out in a buffet style.
The table is about twenty feet long and oval. I'm shocked at how shiny it is; it's buffed to the point when I look down I can see my reflection. King pulls my chair out, seating me at the end on the same side as Mason and their mom. He sits across the table from me at the other end, next to Teresa's husband.
Good. I'd hate to accidentally get Maribel caught in the crosshairs because I'm about to make breakfast supremely difficult.
We all spend a minute getting settled as the servants come and begin pouring our drinks. "A mimosa for you, ma'am?" A young maid holds a pitcher over my glass and as she begins to fill it, Mason leans over.
"Here," he whispers, shoving a little shot into my hand. "Madre never lets them make it strong enough."
I smile and twist the top off carefully, staring King straight in the eyes while I empty it into my glass as soon as his mother's not looking. King rolls his eyes and snatches my glass, pouring some into his. I scowl at him and he just shakes his head silently.
"So, Isobel, what do you do for work?" Teresa catches my eye, smiling kindly. I can tell her and her husband are holding hands under the table. It's sweet and makes me briefly wonder for a second if thesnatching up spouses thing is only limited to men. I narrow my eyes, thinking that's not fair if it is the case.
"Well, Iwasan interior designer-"
"Oh how fun!"
"But, now, I'm just nothing." I sit back and take a deep drink of my mimosa, wiping my lips delicately with a napkin and ignoring King's gaze burning a hole into my face.
"What do you mean, mija? Why do you say you're nothing?" King's mother's curious tone catches my attention now, and I lean forward to look past Mason, seeing genuine concern on her face and attempt to find a way to do this without hurting her feelings too much.
"Excuse me, I'm so sorry but I still don't know your name," I lie sweetly, giving her my most forgive-me smile.
King's wrath turns up a notch from across the table but I ignore it, turning my eyes to his father now, who's blue stare is just as intense as his son's, if not more. "And I only knowyouas Mr. King senior."
"Isobel,"King grits. I can tell that he's really holding back, but I keep my expression carefully neutral.
"Hendrix,you didn't inform your new bride of ournames?"His mother sounds outraged, and I see color rise in her cheeks as she chastises him. I fight back a grin.
Oh it's so perfect.
I feel Hendrix's eyes boring a hole in the side of my face, but I stay strong. "Yeah it's probably just a little oversight on his part, but I'd like to know. I mean, unless you're okay with me calling you Mama and Pa that is…" My eyes go wide as I turn to face King and blink innocently. A muscle ticks in his jaw as his eyes narrow at me before cutting over to his parents.
I feel Mason's hand nudging my elbow slightly. I look over and see him giving me a knowing grin. "You're good. I like you already," he whispers under his breath.
I giggle, winking at him.
King sounds pissed as he speaks."Madre, she knows your-"
"No I don't!"I cut him off. I need an award for how well I'm able to play the damsel in distress. I think I'm doing a good job so far.
"Yes you do-"His eyes flash angrily at me, and I feel more than see Mason next to me silently laughing.
King's mother speaks up, hastily interrupting us. "Isobel, my name is Maribel, and my husband's name is Richard. You may call us Mary and Richard. In time, when you feel comfortable, you are more than free to call us whatever you wish."
"Oh thank you. By the way, your home is absolutely gorgeous," I gush. "How many abducted women has your son brought home? Or, am I the only one who's been blessed with that particular privilege?"
Richard gives me a little smile before wiping his hands on his napkin. "Nope, Hendrix has never brought a woman home before. Ever." He holds my stare as he sips his orange juice, looking over the rim of his glass.
"Oh that'snice."I lean forward, addressing Teresa's husband now. "So what about you? Did you get to just come on in of your own accord, or were you abducted as well? How long before the Stockholm syndrome sets in? You got any pointers for me? Or, is this only reserved for themenin your family?" I give a scoffing half laugh. "I hope not, because that'sreallysexist on top of being illegal. Could you imagine?" I look over at Mason who's got a hand to his lips rubbing thoughtfully, but I can see he's hiding a smile. "Where'syourslave, Mason? You look old enough to participate."
Mason snorts.
"Isobel! You said you'd behave!"King's voice is strained, losing so much of that elegance that he's known for that I fill with such feminine glee I can taste it.
My eyes flash as I look at him. "Oh thisisme behaving, sweetheart. This is my nice side." I bare my teeth at him in a feral smile.
King takes a deep steadying breath before he looks over at his father and mother, who are staring with arched eyebrows. "I apologize for my wife, she-"
