Deceiving Her Ears: Ignoring Your Call-Chapter 11: Marry Me

Isaac stepped over the shards scattered all over the floor; the friction between the soles of his leather shoes and the broken glass made a crunching sound, "crick-crack."

Natalie didn’t move at all, waiting until he came closer and scooped her up in his arms.

As soon as Isaac carried her and stepped out of the bathroom, he was met with resistance.

He looked down to see the woman in his arms stretching her arm to grip the door, raising an eyebrow: "I’ve already sent my uncle away."

Only then did Natalie let go, allowing him to carry her out and set her down on the bed.

"Scared?"

He stood in front of her, leaned down halfway, and his long fingers lightly brushed her face.

His fingertips were warm, but her cheeks were icy.

Hot and cold collided, making her jerk back reflexively.

Natalie turned her head, leaving him with her cold, indifferent profile.

Isaac gave a little laugh, then suddenly leaned over her, trapping her beneath him.

"What are you doing!"

Natalie was startled. She tried to push him away, but it was useless; she could only glare at him fiercely with icy eyes.

"What did you want to do with the vase? Smash someone? Like you smashed Scott Quinn?"

"None of your business."

"Aren’t you engaged already?" Isaac’s hand slid down along her waist, his fingertips measuring the length of her leg, his voice deliberately playful: "You even came to a hotel together. So how come you’re suddenly playing chaste-princess now?"

Natalie felt as if something was weighing on her chest, her breath tangled and stuck, swirling and gathering, refusing to come out, making her feel so sick she thought she might vomit.

Her face turned red from holding back, then suddenly tears started streaming down.

"Isaac, you bastard!"

Isaac clicked his tongue, then crudely, not gently at all, rubbed her tears away with the back of his hand. "Shit, what, you made out of water?"

He asked again, "Do you want to marry my uncle?"

Natalie froze.

Still crying, her face was blank and confused.

Her relationship with Jason Grant was dictated by The Grant and Beckett families. From the beginning to the engagement today, not a single person ever asked her if she wanted it, not a single person cared what she wanted.

Natalie pressed her lips together, refusing to answer.

Isaac’s patience ran out. He frowned, grabbed her chin and forced her mouth open: "Speak! You deaf and mute now?"

His words forced another round of tears out of Natalie. She raised her hand and slapped him across the face.

Isaac had been slapped enough for one day.

He caught her wrist, and when he happened to see the engagement ring on her middle finger, his eyes suddenly darkened.

He’d never liked that damn thing!

He slid the ring off her finger, tossed it onto the bed, and as she stared in stunned disbelief, leaned down to kiss her ear.

Natalie’s heart gave a heavy, frightened jolt.

Then she heard his voice clearly through the help of her hearing aid.

"Don’t marry my uncle. If you have to get married, marry me."

Natalie’s round, doe-like eyes widened, staring at him without blinking.

She wondered if her hearing aid was malfunctioning.

Or maybe he’d just lost his mind.

Saying shit like that.

"...What?"

Isaac stared at her, the corners of his thin lips curling as he leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose.

Her nose was damp with a bead of sweat, which his tongue flicked away, salty as it hit his mouth.

"I said, marry me."

He repeated it.

His tone and expression weren’t joking at all.

——

"Miss Natalie, you’re back. Would you like dinner?"

Natalie shook her head at the maid and headed upstairs.

The study light was still on.

Just as she pushed open her bedroom door, she heard the sounds of argument.

Cynthia Kendall gripped her Buddha Beads, her usually calm face now twisted with rage. "Matthew, don’t push me too far!"

Matthew Beckett pinched the bridge of his nose, looking helpless. "I just want you to show Nat a little more affection, you’re her mother—"

"I am not!" Cynthia snapped, ripping the Buddha Beads apart, the beads clattering onto the floor.

The anger on her face twisted into hatred.

"You think just because she took my last name Kendall, I’ll actually treat her as my own? She’s a bastard! The bastard you had with that whore outside!"

"Enough!" Matthew’s face went cold.

Matthew and Cynthia’s marriage was a family arrangement, but at the very beginning, there had been a period of sweetness.

But after Matthew’s affair, they grew to hate the sight of each other.

Cynthia would never forget—the day her daughter died, Matthew was with his mistress and their bastard, celebrating the kid’s birthday.

Later, Matthew actually dared to bring the bastard who was the same age as her late daughter home, making the kid call her mom, as if that could fill the hole in her heart.

But he didn’t know—every time she saw that bastard child, all she could think about was his infidelity.

She’d even come to believe, in her twisted heart, that the bastard jinxed her daughter to death and stole the life that should’ve been hers.

She’d once tried to rip the hearing aid off that bastard’s ear and push her into the traffic—if her eldest son hadn’t rushed out and stopped her, she’d have killed the kid right then and there.

Outside the study door.

Natalie’s face was pale, fingernails digging into her palm.

The pain snapped her out of it. She turned and quietly walked away.

When she was very, very young, she remembered her mother as a beautiful woman who liked to wear red dresses and paint her nails red.

Her father didn’t come home often, but every time he did, he’d bring her delicious, sweet candies.

And whenever her father was around, her mother would be happy—she’d kiss her, hug her, but if her father wasn’t there, her mother would ignore her completely.

Then one day, her mother disappeared.

Her father took her away from that home and brought her here.

He pointed at an aunt, just as pretty as her mother but cold as ice, and told her—from now on, this lady is your mom.

She’d tried her best to fit into this new home, but in the end, it was all in vain.

Her father was a hypocrite, her brother was distant, her mother...

Had tried more than once to kill her.

All she wanted was a little love, just a little would be enough.

But in this world, nobody loved her.

Natalie returned to her room.

Her phone rang.

It was a message from Isaac.

An hour ago, he’d pinned her to the hotel bed.

He’d grabbed her hand and made her personally remove him from the blacklist.

[What are you doing?]

She hadn’t even replied yet.

He sent another message.

[Look at your chest.]

Natalie saw that message, her eyes widening in disbelief, her face burning up.

Isaac’s video call request came through immediately.

She intended to decline, but her finger betrayed her and hit accept.

The background noise on his end was chaotic, the lighting dim.

His face was shadowed; he held his phone in one hand, a cigarette between his lips in the other, exhaling a ring of smoke, his tone cocky: "Go on, take it off."

Natalie’s small face was cold, looking like she wanted nothing to do with him.

Isaac curled his lips into a smirk, then a familiar male voice broke in.

"Isaac, who are you video calling?"

It was Jason Grant.

Isaac’s eyes flickered, then he replied lazily, "Nobody."

"Nobody? What do you mean nobody—is it your girlfriend?" Jason laughed, leaning in. "Come on, introduce her to your uncle."

"Ah." Isaac feigned surprise, but his eyes gleamed with wicked amusement.

Looking at Natalie’s beautiful, cold face on the screen, he raised an eyebrow: "Sure."

As he spoke, he turned the phone screen straight towards Jason Grant.