THE EXTRAORDINARY BRIDE OF THE WYNDHAM FAMILY Chapter 51

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Chapter 51

Outside the Wyndham mansion, Isla stood still. Before now, she wasn’t bothered about anything. Nothing that she couldn’t handle. But the thought of Delphine’s pregnancy, Anna’s performance has left her shattered. She had prepared herself for gossip, for cold looks and for Arma schemes. What she had not prepared for was Delphine’s pregnancy.

A hand landed and squeezed her shoulder gently. She flinched, then froze when she saw the familiar blond hair, green eyes looking down at her. Landon smiled lightly at her. “Shit happens. Forgive him,” he said, and then, before she could answer, he walked to his navy Ferrari and slid into the driver’s seat.

Something cold moved through Isla. And without thinking, she crossed to the car, opened the passenger door and climbed in. The seat belt clicked, while her breath was shaky. Landon’s eyebrows rose, he had always known her as a quiet and cautious person. Getting into his car suddenly surprised him.

“This is my car, in case you didn’t know,” he said with amused curiosity.

“I know,” she answered. Her voice was flat. “Take me somewhere. Anywhere. I just need to leave here.” Her words came out too small.

Landon glanced at her. After digesting her words. He shrugged. “I’m heading to my club. If you wouldn’t mind, you can come with me, then.” He started the engine; the Ferrari’s growl filled the space between them. He eased the car onto the road. “Alright. Sit tight.” He gave her a brief, sympathetic look.

She barely noticed anything else inside the car. She only sat there, replaying the scene in the drawing room over and over. She let her mind drift back to how it had all started–to that night at the birthday party, over two years

ago.

Gabriel had invited her to Matt’s birthday party. Matt is Gabriel’s friend.

It had been a lively night where friends, and people crowded together in a club. Delphine was not with Gabriel then, she was out of town ever since she broke up with Gabriel.

So it was just Isla and Gabriel among their circle.

Isla remembered the way they used to be, back then. How they laughed together without worrying about anything. The careless drinks they had, the music and everything.

She remembered how things had gone wrong–she had begun to feel strange. She was off balance, and at first she thought it was the alcohol. Her hands trembled and she made a small fool of herself, touching her own face and laughing in a way that did not seem like her.

At that time, Gabriel noticed the changes in her. He had watched her with a hard, alarmed look. When Matt came to get too casual, to reach for her, Gabriel had intervened. He was quick and possessive. He took her out of the noise. “She’s had too much,” a friend had said, trying to pull Isla up to his suite. Gabriel stopped him. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of her,” Gabriel took her out from that club that night.

“Are you ok?” Landon asked, snapping her out of her thoughts. She smiled and nodded.

The Ferrari weaved through the city. Landon glanced at her from time to time, as if checking if she was still there. Isla watched the streets pass by, her eyes watched in a blur of people going home. Updates are released by.net

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The car pulled up to the club’s private entrance. Landon led her through a back door and into a private space, to a private balcony a raised nook that overlooked the crowd. Landon signaled to a hostess, and the girl glided over.

She looked like a twin of Delphine in profile: tall, long blonde hair, high cheekbones. But where Delphine’s hair was always let down, this hostess tied her hair back into a neat ponytail and smiled with professional calm.

“sit,” Landon told Isla, drawing out a low seat for her and leaving. The hostess hovered politely, waiting.

“Get me a bottle of tequila,” Isla said before she could stop herself. “The best you have p>

The hostess blinked, surprised at the order. “A bottle, ma’am p>

Isla’s jaw tightened. She gave her a long hard look. The girl bowed quickly and left. In minutes, the bottle arrived, glinting under the low light. The hostess unscrewed the cap, reached for a glass to pour, and Isla stopped her immediately.

Without the courtesy of a glass, Isla tipped the bottle back and drank straight from the neck. The tequila burned hot down her throat, sharp and immediate. She swallowed again, a sound close to a sob escaped her mouth. The hostess stayed nearby, giving her a respectful distance.

When the bottle was halfway empty, Isla set it down with a heavy thud. Her eyes were watery but resolute. Her words slurry, messy and unfiltered. “Delphine, watch your back,” she said to the air, half–laughing, half- crying. “This woman here? I’m coming for ya p>

The words surprised Isla herself. She had not planned to threaten anyone. The tequila made her thoughts loud and more honest, releasing the things she had kept inside for months. Her hands trembled. She looked suddenly small on the velvet seat. The chandeliers far above looked like cold stars under her drunken gaze.

Landon returned with his drink, settled across from her and looked at her with real concern now. “You don’t have to fight like that,” he said softly.

Isla stared at him. “I don’t want pity,” she snapped. Her tone shocked him. Then she inhaled and forced herself to breathe steady. “I don’t need anybody’s help. I just might do the one thing I had always thought was best. Divorce him p>

“Dont do anything stupid,” Landon warned her, and for the first time his voice dropped the cold brother–in–law mask. “You’re tougher than you let on. ”

Around them, the club moved on. Laughter filled the enormous club, unaware of the small private storm in the balcony. A server approached them with another glass. Landon waved him away. “She’s had enough for tonight,” he said.

Isla watched the party below and felt oddly detached. Her phone vibrated, but she ignored it: messages, missed calls. Most from Gabriel and her mother. She put the device face down and breathed,

Landon reached out and took her hand for a beat.

“Do you want to go home?” he asked gently.

“No,” she admitted. “Not yet p>

Florence

Florence is a passionate reader who finds joy in long drives on rainy days. She’s also a fan of Italian makeup tutorials, blending beauty and elegance into her everyday life.

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