Protector (The Brannock Siblings Book 4)

by Jessica Wilde

  Elite was just a fancy word for assholes.

  She felt the barest of grins tug at her lips and wished for her parents to read her mind just this once. They would be scandalized.

  "Ah, Isabelle, perfect timing." The sound of her father's sweet voice didn't help today. In fact, it made Isabelle more nervous than ever. He sounded resigned and almost as if he felt sorry for her.

  But why would he feel sorry for his only daughter when he could so effortlessly give her to a man he didn't truly know? It baffled her that the father who believed in integrity and loyalty her whole life, gave it up so easily for a few more dollars.

  And that was all he would get from this deal, as far as she knew.

  Nicholas Moore was looking older and older every day. He was short and balding but that was why people underestimated him. He was a very aggressive business man and once you got past his soft look - including his continuously rounding middle - you saw how ruthless he could be. It was wonderful when it came to keeping his family fed and living comfortably, but at the moment, Isabelle wished he would throw out all his business tactics and just listen to his daughter.

  But his trucking company, Simmon's Transport - the company he'd poured his own sweat and blood into - was more important. It was always more important.

  "What is going on?" Isabelle felt her fingers clench into her fists until it felt like they would never come out again. This wasn't good at all. The three of them meeting together like this. Nothing good ever came from that.

  "Now, Isabelle. You know perfectly well what is happening," Christopher said with a slimy smirk. "You and I spoke of this yesterday, don't you remember?"

  Son of a bitch! Yes, she remembered. She remembered the conversation exactly. She also clearly remembered how she told him there was no way in hell she was ever going to marry him and she also clearly remembered how painful his grip on her arm had been when he dragged her out of the restaurant to the car in a fit of fury.

  He was careful to keep the marks where no one else could see them and her never ending clumsiness was the excuse for the ones he just didn't care about. His open handed slaps only left a horrible sting and a red handprint that eventually faded. The way her parents acted, they never suspected a thing.

  Christopher was planning on setting a date for their marriage. A marriage she never agreed to, but hadn't spoken up loud enough to stop. By the look on Christopher's face, the date was set and Isabelle's stomach was no longer inside of her body. It fell to the floor with a splat, right along with her heart.

  "The fifteenth of October will be such a beautiful time, my dear," her mother said somewhat excitedly. Always keep up appearances. Excitement was a flutter of the lashes for the woman. "A fall wedding is always beautiful and at least then you won't be tempted to wear anything immodest."

  Isabelle almost rolled her eyes because of course that is what her mother would focus on instead of the fact that her daughter begged her many times before not to make her marry the man. Well, her attempted begging was never heard because her mother couldn't take the time to stop and listen.

  "You don't understand, Isabelle. This is more necessary than you could possibly imagine."

  Necessary. How happy would a necessary marriage be? Especially for an inexperienced nineteen year old girl that wanted nothing to do with a man who was as dangerous as Christopher.

  Marjorie Moore never wanted children, but when Isabelle was born, she had been a good mother and always secretly loved having a daughter. If not because she was flesh and blood, then because she could play dress up and pretend princess with her daughter's life. Marjorie was always put together, never coming out into the light unless she was dressed up with makeup and jewelry. Isabelle knew without a doubt that her father was the only person who ever saw her mother out of character and even then, it was probably rare. Marjorie's light brown hair and brown eyes were nothing like Isabelle's, but her daughter had the same stubborn attitude and, perhaps, it even rivaled her own. The only thing that Isabelle didn't like about her mother was her need for money.

  Marjorie was money in every aspect of the word. She grew up with money, married with money, and she would die with money.

  This small woman towered over men who had seen the worst of the world because of her 'position'. She towered over Isabelle, too, but not physically. It was unfortunate, but Isabelle always felt tiny next to her beautiful mother.

  Isabelle wanted to argue, but she was at a loss for words no matter how desperate she was to get out of this God awful situation. Everything always happened so quickly since the minute she met Christopher at her parents' anniversary party. Nick and Margie had been planning this relationship since the day Isabelle turned eighteen. It shouldn't come as a surprise that they never thought to tell her and it didn't matter that she never officially met Christopher until five months ago. In this society, if the parents knew him, no one else needed to.

  "October fifteenth? That's only three months away," she finally squeaked out.

  Her mother's lips thinned to a fine line with disappointment, smearing the bright red of her lipstick. Her marriage to her husband was arranged in a somewhat similar way, but the only difference was that they had chosen to be together at a very young age. They loved each other, so it worked out.

  That was not the case with Christopher and this was not an arrangement. Arrangements were for safety, numbers, and conflict resolutions. This was a game of power.

  Christopher was incapable of love in any form of the word. She didn't even think he loved his parents. In fact, she was pretty sure the man was a sociopath. Every emotion that he performed was just that. A performance. The only real thing about him was his greed. That and his indulgence in the drug world. She could never tell if he was high or just being a typical asshole.

  The man was almost as rich as her own father, but only because his grandfather - and founder of the company Christopher now controlled - hated his own son and left everything to his grandson instead. Christopher was handed everything he had in this world. Why would she be any different?

  "I don't think we need to wait longer than that to become husband and wife, Isabelle. A wedding can be planned in that amount of time."

  She looked into Christopher's eyes, which were filled with warning. She wasn't going to get anywhere today. Not as long as he was around. He already manipulated everyone into believing that she was just a scared little girl wanting adventure before she settled down. She was expected to fulfill her duties to her family, however, so no one was going to indulge her anymore.

  Why couldn't I have been born a man? she asked herself.

  The reasons Christopher was even going through with any of this - besides the fact that it would make him even richer - was because she was the perfect example of a trophy wife. At least in the looks department.

  Isabelle knew she was beautiful. She knew she had good genes. She also knew that it was a curse. Her long, dark brown hair had always been shiny and thick with very little effort. Her grey eyes were unique and when she was sad, they morphed into the color of the sky just before a thunderstorm. She only noticed this because she was sad a lot lately. Her lips were a natural shade of pink that no lipstick could enhance. She'd been complimented countless times on her skin, her lips, her body. Women she used to be friends with in school now hated her because she drew the attention of men so easily. Not that she ever cared or paid attention to these men. She didn't care about them because she couldn't ever relate to them. They still kept their eyes on her whenever she walked into a room.

  She hated her beauty. She hated her genes. She loved her parents aside from their ignorance and arrogance, but in a way she hated them, too. It was time to take her life into her own hands.

  "I told you already, Christopher," she said softly, pausing to take a deep, fortifying breath. "I won't marry you."

  Her mother gasped. "Isabelle! How dare you disrespect your fiancé like that."

  Christopher held his hand up to stop her mother fro
m saying anymore. The power he held made her anger rage into a boil. "It's alright, Marjorie. She is nervous about the wedding and about me. I think it's time to get to know each other a little better, don't you think?" He turned the full force of his gaze onto Isabelle and she could see the fury in those eyes. He stayed in character, though. He always did in front of her parents and that is exactly why they trusted him. "Once you get to know me, you will see that it's not only the most logical choice to marry me, but it's in your best interests."

  She stared him down, her hands trembling and her heart racing with fear, but her expression was steady.

  She understood the threat.

  She knew exactly what her best interests were when it came to him and she couldn't think of a way out of it.

  Isabelle looked at her father who shook his head as her mother angrily hissed in his ear. They weren't going to listen. She had to find a way out on her own.

  "Can I please speak with my parents? Alone?"

  Christopher smiled at her, the smile that she thought she could fall in love with before he showed his true colors and she realized that smile was the mask that made everyone love him or mistakenly trust him. "Of course, my dear. I will be just outside the door if you should need me."

  She cringed at his endearment, but no one was looking at her anymore. He nodded to her parents and walked past her, his shoulder bumping hers lightly and his hand wrapping around her wrist painfully. It all happened so quickly and Isabelle's breath whooshed out of her in a rush, making her dizzy.

  "Isabelle, look at you. You have got to calm yourself or you will make a fool of all of us," her mother hissed at her.

  "Mother, I need you to listen to me."

  "No. I will not. This is going to be the best thing for you, Isabelle. Christopher can take care of you. We need this."

  "What? What are you talking about?"

  Her father sighed and placed his hand on her mother's shoulder, quieting the words she was about to speak. Words Isabelle was sure would be hurtful.

  "Isabelle," he said, his voice telling her everything she needed to know.

  "You both truly think I am crazy or stupid? That I have some sort of depression or anxiety problem? Or that I am not thinking clearly? You both think I would act this way only if something was wrong with me?"

  "Why wouldn't we think that? You've gone along with everything we've done in the past nineteen years and suddenly, you are acting out and have no respect for the situation we are in. This marriage will solidify your future."

  "What situation are you in, Mother? Tell me and I will try to understand."

  Her mother frowned and Isabelle didn't miss the pointed look given to her father. She knew there was something else going on, knew that her parents were in a desperate situation. Desperate enough to give their only daughter away to the most atrocious man, but the only man that could possibly save them.

  Christopher had told her everything. She already knew the words that her mother and father refused to tell her. Admitting it themselves would only prove they had turned into soulless pawns.

  "This will be good for everyone," her mother said stiffly.

  "No," she snapped. "It will be good for you. Not me."

  She wanted to tell them right then and there that Christopher hit her several times already. That he threatened things that would make her regret ever being born. She wanted to tell them that she would end up dead if she continued with this sham of a marriage.

  But she didn't.

  A part of her wanted to prove to them that everything she was saying, everything she was at least trying to say, was true. It was childish and irrational, but they were going to have to see it for themselves and that terrified her even more. She just had to find a way to survive in hell long enough to eventually crawl out. She had no way of taking care of herself. Only a small amount of money to her name and definitely no friends that would go against the Moore family or the Hamptons. Especially since Christopher already pulled those things under his own control.

  The little money she had, she kept hidden and she was working on increasing the amount.

  In addition to her lack of independence, she had the knowledge that Christopher manipulated more than her hand. If what she knew about him so far was correct and if she believed what she had seen and heard, her parents were in the same boat as she was.

  Up shit creek without a paddle... or a boat.

  She turned away from her parents, hoping that one day they would have to ask for her forgiveness. Her heart cracked at the thought of a child of her own suffering through something like this. She would never allow it. She would teach her children how to love and she would die before Christopher ended up being the father of those children.

  Isabelle knew she would sacrifice herself before she negotiated her child's life and wellbeing. There wasn't a damn thing on this earth that anyone could manipulate, blackmail, or bribe her with.

  She ripped open the door to find that Christopher was waiting for her on the other side, ready to interfere at any moment if he needed to. Ready to manipulate.

  Her parents shut the office door behind her, closing her away from them so they could discuss the next steps to her ultimate demise.

  I need to get away. I need to think.

  She was planning on taking a trip out to see her Aunt Neddy, but knowing her parents well and knowing that her mother hardly ever spoke to her own sister in the last three years, she wouldn't be given the money to make the trip. Especially now that a date was set.

  Her Aunt Neddy would help her come up with a plan to avoid a marriage to the evil man staring her down. She always loved the way Neddy could get out of trouble or the way she laughed her way through life. How her mother and Neddy were related, she had no idea. They were so different. Neddy was crazy and outgoing and her husband, Trick, was just as crazy. Neither of them cared much for money or things. They just wanted happiness.

  Maybe that was why Isabelle always felt like Neddy would be there for her no matter what. There was no way to get to her, though, without Christopher finding a way to manipulate that situation, too. There was a reason Neddy stayed away from her parents. There was a reason for everything and Isabelle couldn't help but feel that the center of it, was Christopher.

  She had to get him to agree to some kind of reprieve for her. She had to dig deep and find a way to manipulate him.

  Tell him what he wants to hear.

  It suddenly came to her. Like a light shining down from heaven, it hit her and her entire body shuddered with excitement. Isabelle knew it was a risk, knew it wasn't a solution, but it would be time. Time is all she needed.

  "You win," she said to Christopher, surprising him and making him smile triumphantly. It was a disgusting smile and one she knew she would see countless times over the years. "I will marry you, Christopher. I won't fight it and I will give up whatever you tell me to give up. I'll be the trophy wife you want."

  He opened his mouth to speak, but Isabelle was feeling bold today.

  "Shut up and listen to me." Her fingers trembled when she saw his face harden. She was getting him riled up and it made her smile inwardly. "Whatever deal you have made with my father is one that I've been forced into. One that they must have been forced into if I know anything about you at all."

  "You're a smart woman, Isabelle."

  She ignored the bite in his words and pressed on. "I have one condition."

  "Do you really think you are in a position to negotiate, Isabelle?"

  She hated his voice, hated the way he said her name. She had never hated anyone or anything so much in her life.

  "I think I am in a position to make this agreement harder for you. I am in a position to embarrass the hell out of you or make your plans more difficult to carry out. So, you take my condition or I won't make this whole fiasco or all the money in the world worth it for you or my parents."

  He nodded, his brow raised and his expression one of approbation. He was impressed with her boldness and
that did not bode well for her. At the same time she was getting her last bit of freedom, she was also sealing her fate. No way he would let her go now regardless of whatever deal was going on behind her back.

  "I want a month. Away from you, from my parents, from everyone."

  The approval on his face quickly disappeared and in its place, a ferociousness that would make the next words out of her mouth the most important.

  "I'll give you me if you give me a month. You are making a deal with my father, I think it is an appropriate business arrangement - and in your best interests - that you make this deal with me."

  It was like lightning. A flash of movement and before Isabelle's eyes could register what they were seeing, she was pressed against the wall next to the office door and Christopher's hand was wrapped around the delicate column of her throat, squeezing until the air was barely moving in.

  "You think I can be manipulated, darling? You think I am going to let you go running off to God knows where and that I believe you will be coming back to marry me?"

  She shook her head, eyes wide as saucers and stomach revolting at his closeness. If there was one thing she hated more than Christopher Hampton, it was his touch.

  "Then tell me, Isabelle. How is letting you have a month away in my best interests? You should know by now that I don't fuck around when it comes to something I want."

  He loosened the hold around her throat to let her speak, but the pain he had already caused made her voice hoarse and shaky. The leering gaze he ran down her body made her throat tighten even more.

  "You will know where I am, you will have access to me and will be able to come and get me at any time. If you do this, if you let me have this, I will cooperate in every way. You won't have to make the excuse that your wife suffers from a mental illness or immaturity because I'll be the exact replica of what you consider perfection. I'm giving up, Christopher. I have no other option."

  He tightened his fingers once more, taking her breath away just enough to make her dizzy, then his green eyes darkened. That wasn't good. In fact, it told her exactly what was coming in her near future.