Chapter 8 A hint of betrayal

_..."just because I refused to say my name and chit chat with a weird girl that served me drink"...._

..._"weird girl that served me drink"..._

..._"weird girl"_...

His words cut through me over and over as I replayed it in my head. He thought I was weird. I thought he was crazy, why did that bother me? I adjusted myself on the chair.

We were in the living room. There were a pair of single chairs joined together. I settled into one of the chairs, facing my father who sat opposite me, his smile wide, his laughter filling the room with warmth. And beside me sat Ryan, his presence palpable, yet it did little to ease my discomfort. The fireplace stood quietly by my right, unlit, adding charm to the chill in the air. The walls were painted a creamy color with delicate blue designs, giving the room a touch of elegance.

On the table in the center of the room, there were snacks waiting to be enjoyed alongside a glass of wine. The table sat on a warm, cozy rug, making it a perfect spot to gather and unwind. The TV above the fireplace played silently in the background, casting a soft glow in the room without disturbing the peaceful atmosphere. Only to me, the atmosphere was nothing but peaceful.

"I did make plans, for the two of us. I thought it would be best if we got to know each other a little. Maybe it would make her more comfortable," his gaze shifted to me and I looked up.

"Yes, indeed." My father chimed in, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

"We could leave right now if that's okay with you, Mr. Branc," Ryan kept his eyes on me. For a moment, he almost convinced me that he actually wanted this, wanted me. But I knew better. My eyes twitched and I turned back to my father with a forced smile lingering on my face.

"There's no need to rush things, I already agreed to this and I'm not running away again." I needed to leave. "I don't feel so good."

"The restaurant I booked is close to a hotel. If you feel too tired you can just stay the night," his eyes darted between my father and me "In a separate room, ofcourse." He hastily clarified.

"I'm sure you would feel better once you get a change of scenery, Isabelle," Dad stood from his chair. "Ryan, make sure you're both here first thing in the morning. I want you both engaged tomorrow." He walked out of the room, not waiting for a second to hear what I had to say.

"Shall we?" Ryan interrupted my thoughts. His hands stretched to the door, telling me it was time for us to leave. I squeezed my eyes shut, giving my self a pep talk. _it's gonna be okay. Everything's gonna be okay._ I took a deep breath.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

The restaurant had a cozy vibe, with soft lighting and warm colors. Couples enjoyed intimate meals while friends chatted and laughed over lunch. The air was filled with delicious smells from the kitchen. Waiters moved gracefully among the tables, ensuring everyone felt at home. Glasses clinked and laughter echoed, creating a lively atmosphere. Sunlight streamed through the windows, adding to the welcoming ambiance. Everyone looked happy, everyone but us.

"Ryan, why are we doing this?" I ventured, my voice barely above a whisper.

Ryan's gaze met mine, his eyes cool and composed, betraying no hint of vulnerability amidst the facade of stoicism I thought he wore. "Hmm," he began, his tone measured and deliberate. "Our families... they have certain expectations from us. You should know this by now."

His words hung in the air, a heavy silence enveloping us. "But do you want this, Ryan?" I pressed, the words tumbling from my lips before I could stop them.

Ryan sighed, his gaze drifting to the menu. "You shouldn't care about things like that." His gaze remained steady, his expression unreadable as he met my eyes again. "I have a few things to attend to at the hotel, so eat."

He went back to looking at the menu. He must have mentioned all that to my father just so he could leave for work. And here I was asking what he wanted. We were in the same situation, it was almost stupid of me to ask.

We finally ordered lunch. I got roasted brussel sprout salad with baby back ribs while he had braised chicken breast with carrots and potatoes. All through the meal no one said a word. I flashed him a glance every now and then to watch him eat. The way he shut his eye with every bite made me think he really loved chicken.

I didn't want to accept how attracted I was to him, but I forgot I had trouble hiding my emotions. Our eyes met and I realized I was staring. Quickly, I went back to eating. I felt my face flush.

I ate as fast as my mouth could chew. The thought of being alone in a hotel room, being free to do whatever I wanted, away from him sounded like heaven to me. If I was going to stay anyway, the least I could do was enjoy it.

Finally we left the restaurant. The hotel was only a few minutes away, which was great considering how tired I was.

As we arrived at the hotel, the grand facade loomed before us. Ryan parked the car, and we stepped out into the warm afternoon sunlight, the environment promising solace and relaxation.

Entering the lobby, the surroundings enveloped us in a cocoon of luxury, the soft murmur of conversation mingling with the gentle melody of a piano. Ryan led the way to the reception desk.

Approaching the receptionist, he engaged in a brief exchange, his voice measured and deliberate. "We'd like to book a room," he stated.

The receptionist nodded, her expression professional yet warm. "Of course, right away, sir." She answered so quickly. I turned my head, noticing every staff moving faster than they were few seconds ago. My forehead furrowed.

As the receptionist keyed in information I was certain she didn't collect, I stood by Ryan's side, a silent witness to the scenario. He must visit often.

"Ah, Mr. Taylor, there's already a reservation under your name," the receptionist informed us, her tone polite yet tinged with anxiety. "Room 100, one of the main penthouses. Your guest is waiting for you." She handed him a key card.

A knot formed in the pit of my stomach at the mention of another guest waiting for Ryan. I exchanged a hesitant glance with him, the unspoken questions hanging heavy in my throat.

Ryan's expression remained unreadable, his mask of composure firmly in place. "Please book another room, still under my name." He put his hands in his pocket and turned to me. "Wait here." his voice a mere whisper against the backdrop of the bustling lobby. He turned his back to me and moved to the elevator.

As I stood alone in the lobby, the minutes stretched into an eternity, each passing moment amplifying the unease that churned within me. Why was I nervous? I had no right to be nervous. He already mentioned he had work here, so of course he would have a guest.

"Here you go ma'am, Room 99, the second main penthouse." she handed me the keycard. "It's directly opposite." She whispered with a wink. I forced a smile, obviously understanding what she meant.

"Thank you." I ventured towards the corridor leading to the elevator. I got in and scanned the card, I already knew the only way to access any penthouse, is with a card. At least in the hotels I'd been to.

The door closed and the hum of it's ascent along with the soft melody playing, surrounded me. I brought out my phone to check for any notifications and started scrolling through my social media. I was engrossed with a post on my timeline and didn't bother to raise my head as I walked out of the elevator when it opened.

Then a petite figure bumped into me, skyrocketing my phone to the floor. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." I heard a feminine voice say with a sniff. I turned around to see who it was but all that was left was the elevator door, and the sound of it going down again.

I turned back to pick up my phone, but as I placed my hand on my device, I heard him. "I told you to wait." He bit out. And as if hit by a wave, I put everything together. Ryan was with a woman...