Chapter 93

Henry couldn't wrap his head around why Theodore looked so ridiculously happy. It was just a bowl of ginger soup—what's there to grin like that about? On the other side of town, Isabella didn't wake up until around noon. Her whole body ached, like she'd been crushed and reassembled wrong. Last night had been pure hell. "Finally up?" Julian leaned against the doorframe, glass of red wine in hand, watching her with a lazy smirk. She nearly jumped out of her skin. She thought he was long gone. "Julian, you're still here," she said, trying to sit up. Before she could move much, his hand pressed her right back onto the bed. "Can't wait for me to leave, huh? So you can go throw yourself at Theodore?" His eyes narrowed as he moved his hand from her collarbone to her throat, his grip tightening just enough to make his point crystal clear. Isabella's heart skipped a beat. "No, Julian, of course not," she answered quickly, shaking her head. Yeah, that was kind of what she was thinking, but she w