“I’m no vampire,” came the reply.
The hood fell back, revealing the would-be assassin’s identity.
Hewas ashe. And she was—thankfully—neither vampire nor assassin.
She was a witch.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Isabelle?” Dorian released her at once and blinked, not trusting his own eyes. He hadn’t seen Isabelle Armitage since the disastrous fundraiser, and in the wake of the stalled acquisition talks, he’d feared he’d never see her again. “What are you doing here? Is your father with you?”
“No. We’d heard whispers that Malcolm was reconvening the council tonight. My brothers are concerned vampires are gaining too much power. They wanted to be sure the interests of mages and witches were well represented and thought I should pay you a visit.”
“I’m sorry you’ve wasted the trip, Isabelle.” Dorian sighed, running a bloody hand through his hair. “There is no council. Just… just a good bit of family drama centuries in the making.”
She offered an understanding smile. “I said my brothers were concerned about their interests, but that’s not actually why I’ve come. I need to discuss something with you—their insistence was merely a convenient excuse.”
“Is everything all right?”
Isabelle nodded, keeping her voice low. “Am I correct in assuming once your company secured Armitage Holdings, your intention was for House Redthorne to propose a bonded partnership?”
“That was my intention, yes. But with the deal currently in limbo, I’m not sure we should hold out hope for such an alliance.”
Isabelle glanced toward the dining room, where the tattered remains of Dorian’s family lingered, undoubtedly wondering if their eldest brother had finally lost his bloody mind.
Sensing Isabelle wanted some privacy, he led her into the study and shut the door behind them.
“My father is unwell, Mr. Redthorne,” she said. “That’s the real reason for the delay with the acquisition.”
“Unwell? What’s wrong?”
“He’s suffering from early onset Alzheimer’s. His mind is fracturing, and my brothers are concerned about his ability to make decisions.”
“I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
“We’ve tried to keep it quiet.” she said, her eyes filled with sadness. “He has his good days as well as his bad, though lately I’m afraid the latter are eclipsing the former.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“All I’m asking is for your patience. My brothers know Duchanes is a loose cannon at best, but they see my father’s illness as a way to secure their own financial futures, and Renault has promised to double FierceConnect’s offers at every turn. They’re pushing for a quick sale, confusing my father with talk of counteroffers and legalities…” Isabelle sighed. “I’m doing my best to keep them at bay, but it’s not easy. Father’s health is my priority, and I don’t wish to upset him. But I know selling to FierceConnect is what he would’ve wanted.”
Frustration mounted in Dorian’s chest, but he understood.
“FierceConnect’s interest in Armitage Holdings remains strong, Isabelle. We can wait as long as necessary.”
“And your interest in the bonded partnership?”
“It would be an honor to offer you such a proposal,” Dorian said. “If and when the time is right for you.”
Isabelle nodded. “I can’t pledge myself in an official capacity at this time without upsetting the balance at home, but Iwillhelp you, Mr. Redthorne—in any way that I can—until such time as our partnership can be solidified.”
Fresh hope rose in Dorian’s heart. A bonded witch, after more than fifty years without one…
It felt like a dream. No more chasing down freelancers. No more fading tattoos, eyes aching in the sunlight, mind clouding with confusion. No more falling victim to his insatiable hunger so soon after a feed.
He could regain his full power. Protect his family. Protect his woman.
It was almost too good to be true.
