Fated Marriage Spoiled by My Ice Billionaire novel Chapter 22

"Go downstairs and eat breakfast. After that, we'll do your checkup, and then get the marriage certificate." He kept his eyes on his laptop.

"Okay." Isabelle tugged at her clothes and headed downstairs.

This is moving way too fast. So when he said "be with him," he meant marriage? Aren't we supposed to date first?

Isabelle's head was buzzing, and she wondered if it was too late to back out.

"Ms. Foster, good morning!" the maid said cheerfully.

"Morning."

Breakfast was bagels and scrambled eggs, which actually hit the spot.

After breakfast, Isabelle wandered around the first floor and finally took a good look at the villa.

The front yard had a vintage cottage garden style with flowers and plants scattered throughout, and the back was laid out like a farmhouse retreat. Stone pathways wound through the space, leading to a square gazebo in the center. An artificial pond curved along the perimeter wall, creating a unique aesthetic that actually worked.

She stood there quietly, watching it all, and her mind filled with complicated thoughts.

Her phone buzzed with a message from Brian, "Climbed 16 floors of stairs. My legs are about to fall off."

"Did you piss off the elevator? Did it ban you or something?" Isabelle remembered how he'd burst through her door last night, gasping for air.

Brian sent, "I wanted to take it, but I got your call right when I reached the elevator lobby. It was packed with people, and the elevator had just gone up. Mr. Cross was worried that something had happened to you, so he just ran up the stairs. I couldn't exactly stand there waiting for the elevator after that."

They ran up the stairs? Sixteen floors, for God's sake...

Damian appeared beside her at some point. "Time to go."

She startled slightly. "Okay."

*****

The butler, James Hudson, was driving today. He'd been away visiting his hometown, but she'd seen him a couple of times when Damian came home from work. Brian sat in the passenger seat handling documents.

They'd switched to a different car this time, one with a privacy partition, and it slid up as soon as they got in.

Isabelle felt awkward sitting there. The two of them sat stiffly in the back with a clear divide between them, like enemies on opposite sides of a battlefield.

"If I'm not pregnant..." Isabelle started but didn't finish.

"Then we'll try again next time. Don't stress about it."

Next time... Her face was burning again.

"Did you bring your ID?" he asked.

"Yeah, I have it."

"Do you have any requirements for me?" Damian turned his head to look at her.

Isabelle glanced at him and immediately looked away. "I... I'm still not really used to this..."

"That's fine. We'll take it slow."

*****

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