The Extraordinary Bride Of The Wyndham Family (Isla and Gabriel) novel Chapter 135

This morning, Isla found herself in a surprisingly lighter mood. The pale flush that had drained from her cheeks was gradually returning, lending a soft warmth to her complexion. Although a faint shadow of sorrow still lingered in her eyes, her mind was steadier now, more composed.

She sat beside Gabriel on their bed, clutching her phone with a trembling hand. Her finger hovered uncertainly before pressing play on the voice recorder app.

Gabriel leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His jaw tightened as the harsh sounds began to fill the quiet room—the screams, Anna’s cold, cutting words crackling through the phone’s speaker. For the first few minutes, he remained silent, his dark eyes fixed and unblinking, absorbing the torment woven into Isla’s voice—her cries, her desperate struggles—and the cruel tone of Anna’s threats.

His breath hitched painfully in his chest. His hands curled into tight fists. When Isla’s anguished plea rang out again—“Please, don’t hurt my baby”—he couldn’t bear it any longer.

Swiftly, he snatched the phone from her grasp and slammed it on pause. Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision.

The room fell into a heavy, suffocating stillness.

Gently, Gabriel set the phone down on the nightstand and turned to face his wife. Without uttering a word, he pulled Isla into his embrace, holding her close as she broke down once more. This time, her sobs were quiet and pained, trembling through her body like fragile waves of grief.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. “I’m so sorry you had to endure all of that.”

His words trembled against her ear. “I should never have left you alone with Grandfather. I should have been there, Isla. I should have protected you. This is all my fault.”

His hands shook as they clung to her, and she could feel the rapid thudding of his heart pressed against her cheek, weighted with guilt.

Slowly, Isla pulled back, her tear-filled blue eyes meeting his. “I already told you—it’s not your fault,” she murmured softly. “None of this is your fault or Grandfather’s. Anna planned everything herself. It was all her doing.”

Gabriel’s breath caught again. His hands left her waist and rose to cradle her face gently. His thumbs brushed away the dampness on her cheeks.

He held her gaze for a long moment. “I promise you,” he said quietly but with unwavering resolve, “she will face consequences for what she’s done. Severe ones. But you need to promise me something in return.”

Isla blinked, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “What do you want me to promise?”

“Promise me that you’ll take care of yourself. That you’ll stay safe—for me.”

“I promise,” she whispered back.

He nodded, his thumb lightly tracing over her lips. “Good.”

He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. It wasn’t fiery or passionate, but a soft, steady touch meant to reassure.

“And also,” he murmured close to her mouth, “don’t leave this estate. Stay here with your friends. If you need anything—anything at all—call me or Stone immediately. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she replied quietly. “I understand.”

Gabriel kissed her once more, this time holding the kiss a little longer before pulling away with a faint smile. “I’m heading out now,” he said. “I’ll call later to check on you.”

She nodded, watching him as he grabbed his coat and left the room. The door clicked softly behind him.

For a moment, Isla remained seated, her heart still pounding and her mind weighed down by everything she had heard. Then, with a long, shaky exhale—like releasing a flood of pent-up pain—she rose and slipped quietly into the bathroom.

Soon, the gentle sound of warm water running filled the stillness.

***

Several hours later…

“How is he doing?” Gabriel asked as he entered his father’s office.

He turned away and moved toward the floor-to-ceiling window, resting one hand against the glass as he gazed out over the city skyline.

Gabriel remained rooted in place, his heart pounding in disbelief.

“So all these years,” he finally said, his voice rising, “you kept something this huge from me? You—both of you—let me live a lie?”

John faced him again. “I didn’t know, Gabriel,” he admitted. “I only found out recently myself. And when I did, I didn’t know how to tell you.”

Gabriel’s chest rose and fell rapidly, his mind spinning. The woman he had called Mother—the woman who had hurt his wife and caused so much pain—wasn’t even his real mother?

He wanted to speak, but the words caught in his throat.

“Be a man,” John said quietly, stepping closer. “There are still things you need to know, but not now. They’re not… relevant yet.”

Gabriel clenched his fists tightly at his sides. “Not relevant?” he echoed, his voice low and heavy with disbelief.

He shook his head, frustration and confusion swirling within him. “If she isn’t my mother, then tell me, Father—who is my mother?”

John looked away, his throat working as if the words were trapped, heavy and painful.

He said nothing.

And standing there in stunned silence, Gabriel realized the secrets in his family ran far deeper—and darker—than he had ever imagined.