CHAPTER 244: YOUR CHOICE

Bang, bang, bang.

My eyes shot open, heart racing, breath shallow. The sound was real. My bedroom door.

"Bella! Bella, wake up!" Leo’s muffled voice came through, bright and too loud for morning. "Our in-law is here!"

The dream, with its visceral terror, clung to me like a shroud. The blood, the violence, Adrien’s pleading eyes – it was all too real. My body trembled, and I instinctively reached for my abdomen, a phantom pain echoing. The jarring reality of Leo’s voice, however, was a sudden, sharp break from the nightmare.

"In-laws?" I croaked, my voice thick with sleep and the lingering residue of fear. The banging on the door was insistent, almost frantic.

"Your rich husband’s mother is in our living room right now!"

That woke me up. "What?!" I shot upright, hair a mess, pajamas clinging. My heart went from nightmare panic to very real panic in seconds.

I stumbled to the door, yanked it open, and Leo grinned like he’d just dropped the biggest bomb. "Told you."

I didn’t even answer. I bolted, bare feet slapping the floor, and nearly crashed into the scene unfolding in the parlor.

Elise Walton sat poised on the couch, sipping tea like she owned the air itself, in elegant silk that made my family’s humble living room look like a dollhouse. Dad sat opposite her, relaxed, chatting as if hosting the mother of my terrifyingly powerful fiancé was an everyday thing.

"Oh, look who it is," Elise said smoothly, turning her gaze on me. Her smile was sharp and warm all at once. "A beautiful sunlight, finally awake."

"Good morning," I managed, bowing my head slightly as I greeted her and then Dad.

Elise’s eyes softened, in her own way. "How are you feeling, Isabella? "

"I... I’m well, thank you."

"Good," Elise replied, setting down her cup with delicate grace. "Because we have a full day ahead. Wedding preparations wait for no one."

I opened my mouth, but she lifted a hand mid-sentence. One of the women who had followed her in stepped forward, setting five big heavy food flasks on the table with practiced efficiency.

"I brought breakfast for everyone," Elise announced. "Eat first, then get yourself ready. We have a full day ahead of us, my dear. And I don’t intend to let you lift a finger beyond choosing and approving."

Dad looked both flattered and mildly overwhelmed. Leo, meanwhile, mouthed dramatically at me from behind Elise’s back: Your in-law. In. Our. House.

I nearly kicked him.

****

Breakfast felt less like hosting and more like basking. Elise had a way of filling the house with warmth, her laughter lilting like music, her words soft but rich with attention. She complimented Dad’s clinic stories like they were poetry, asked Leo about his lectures with such genuine curiosity he nearly tripped over his own tongue, and turned to me with eyes that seemed to see straight through the nerves I tried to hide.

"You remind me of a sunrise," she told me at one point, her voice gentle but full of conviction. "Fresh, certain, inevitable. Adrien will be insufferable if I tell him I saw you like this—he doesn’t deserve to keep all the brightness to himself."

I’d flushed so hard, Leo had nearly choked on his tea.

When the plates were cleared away, Elise clapped her hands once in delight, like a child about to unwrap a gift. "Now then—shall we make today unforgettable? Isabella, darling, go and get ready. We’ve a whole wedding to plan, and I don’t want to waste a single ray of this morning."

Her energy was infectious; even Dad smiled like he’d forgotten how ordinary our living room was.

Back in my room, I slipped into a pale dress and brushed my hair quickly, but my reflection was still tinged with nerves. By the time I returned, Elise was already waiting, silk skirts flowing like water as she stood near the doorway, her attendants hovering with effortless grace.

"Oh, look at you," she breathed, her smile soft but radiant. "Perfect. Do you know, I used to pray Adrien would one day choose a woman with light in her eyes? And here you are. Answered prayers don’t always come this sweet."

I flushed. "Thank you."

Dad came forward, clapping me lightly on the shoulder. "Go on, Bella. Enjoy this day."

Leo, of course, couldn’t help himself. "Don’t get too dazzled, Bella. Blink twice if she buys you a dress so expensive Adrien faints at the bill."

Elise laughed, light and genuine. "Oh, let him faint. It’ll build his character."

I couldn’t help it—I laughed too, the nerves easing just a little.

Elise offered her arm like we were stepping into a ballroom instead of a car waiting outside. "Shall we, my dear?"

I nodded, sliding my arm into hers. For the first time, the weight of everything ahead didn’t feel frightening. It felt sweet. It felt like honey.

****

The car purred along the smooth road, sunlight streaming through the tinted glass, and Elise looked like she belonged in some glossy magazine spread—poised, serene, glowing. She turned toward me with that warm, effortless smile that always made me feel like I was in on some wonderful secret.

"So," she said, her tone soft but brimming with excitement, "where would you like us to go, Isabella? To talk about the wedding—and to meet the event planners. We’ve shortlisted about twenty or thirty. You’ll get to pick the one you feel most comfortable with."

"Twenty or thirty?" I repeated, and my voice came out a high squeak I barely recognized. "I get to pick... the planner? And even where I want to meet them?"

Elise chuckled, a low, melodic sound that smoothed over the rough edges of my shock. "Oh, darling, don’t stress over the numbers. It will be your day. You’ll need someone you feel at ease with, someone you can talk to without feeling stiff. And as for the location where we will meet them now..." she tilted her head, voice soft as if she were confiding a secret, "I thought it only fair you should choose somewhere you’d actually enjoy sitting down for those long conversations."

"I... I don’t know," I admitted, feeling suddenly shy. The concept of choosing a venue just to meet people about the wedding felt like a foreign language. "Maybe just a quiet café? Somewhere with comfortable chairs?"

Elise smiled, a beautiful, knowing curve of her lips. It was a smile of gentle amusement. "Darling, imagine twenty-plus highly energetic, highly fashionable event planners converging on a café. Security would have a fit, and the noise would be unbearable. Besides," she leaned closer, a confidential sparkle in her eyes, "we need room for the mood boards, the fabric swatches, and possibly a small orchestra of caterers. How about the Belvedere House Conservatory?"

I blinked. The Belvedere House. Famed for its historical architecture and legendary exclusivity, it was a landmark I had only ever seen in glossy magazines.

"It’s completely private, stunningly beautiful, and has the most divine rare orchids," Elise continued, listing its features as if they were perfectly ordinary necessities. "It’s perfect for long, lovely, decision-making sessions. We can arrange for fresh pastries from the city’s best baker every morning. Does that sound comfortable?"

Comfortable didn’t begin to cover it. The idea that I could simply choose to hold my planning sessions in a place that required a six-figure membership just to step inside is a bit exciting.

"The Belvedere House," I breathed. "If that’s... if that’s allowed."

"Allowed?" Elise laughed again, a low, melodic sound that implied the world bent to her minor whims. "My dear Isabella, when you marry Adrien, you will discover that the word ’allowed’ rarely applies to you. Think of it as merely choosing where you’d prefer to entertain your staff."

She reached over and squeezed my hand firmly, her silk sleeve brushing against my bare arm—a tangible reminder that this sweet, honey-like reality was now mine.

"The Belvedere House it is then, darling," she confirmed, speaking softly to the driver through the partition. "Route us immediately to the West Wing entrance. We’ll meet the first batch of planners there this afternoon."