Melvin Blackthorne stared at me with absolute terror in his eyes. His family name, his status, his wealth—none of it mattered now.
"Please," he begged, his voice breaking. "The Blackthorne family will pay any price!"
I looked at him coldly. "There's only one price I'm interested in."
"Name it!" Desperation made his voice crack.
"Isabelle Ashworth," I said simply. "She belongs with me."
Confusion flashed across his face. "The Ashworth girl? What does she have to do with this?"
"Everything." I stepped closer. "Your brother Dashiell thinks he can claim her. He can't."
Melvin's eyes widened with understanding. "So this is about a woman? Take her then! I'll convince Dashiell to step aside!"
I almost laughed at his pathetic attempt to save himself. As if Isabelle were some object to be handed over.
"You misunderstand." My voice dropped dangerously low. "I'm not asking for permission. I'm simply informing you of what will happen."
