Sweet Flash Marriage with the Restrained Tycoon (Isabelle and Damien) novel Chapter 50

Isabelle clutched her phone, not daring to speak, and quickly sent a message to the group chat.

Isabelle sent, "Don't tell Collin I'm married."

Diana sent, "Got it, you scaredy-cat."

Vivian sent, "Why not? It's good news."

Isabelle sent, "The fewer people who know, the better. It's not the right time."

Only her three close friends and their immediate families knew about her rushed marriage; to everyone else, it was a secret.

Collin was a well-known couture designer back home, with no shortage of women around him. He was also here for Fashion Week.

His mother was Isabelle's old teacher, and they had been quite close during her school days.

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Ashley sent, "Damian, your girl seems to be out playing."

She sent Damian several photos: one of a man with his arm around Isabelle, another of him affectionately ruffling her hair, one of him opening the car door for her, and a clear shot of the license plate.

Damian, who'd been at the hotel with a faint smile, opened the images. His smile disappeared, his lips pressed tight, and a deep crease formed between his brows.

He zoomed in. In the pictures, she was smiling, bright and happy. The man looked at her with obvious fondness, his eyes only on her. But in the photo where he ruffled her hair, you could see Isabelle already pulling away slightly.

Damian knew exactly why Ashley had sent these. He didn't reply.

He opened WhatsApp to the contact labeled "Honey." A message from her, sent a few minutes ago, read, "Having lunch with Diana and the girls at a friend's place. Don't wait for me. I'll be back tonight."

Damian rubbed his temples, set aside the file he was holding, and called her.

In the car, Isabelle was startled. The word "Honey" blazing on her screen was way too conspicuous. She couldn't let Collin see it, but she couldn't hang up either. She answered in a rush, "Hello?"

Damian said, "Honey."

She swallowed. What's gotten into him? Did he take something? He's calling me "honey"...

"Honey," he called again when she didn't respond.

His voice was so low and smooth it sent a shiver through her. If he wasn't a CEO, he'd make a fortune as a voice actor.

She glanced at Collin in the driver's seat, desperately hoping he hadn't heard anything. "What's up?" she stammered.

"Miss you."

A flush spread from her cheeks like a tidal wave. She covered one side of her face. "Are you drunk again?"

"No. I'll be waiting for you at home."

"Okay." She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, but a strange tightness in her chest left her feeling unsteady.

"Love you," Damian said.

He's really lost it. She ended the call.

The afternoon was sunless but the sky was a clear blue. A light snow began to drift down again.

Isabelle, wearing a hat, white gloves and braving the snow, worked in the backyard. She carefully selected and cut wax flower branches with her shears—she didn't pick the fully bloomed ones, but cut about a dozen bud-heavy stems, then wrapped them in old newspaper.

Linda, who had been supervising, insisted she take a dozen more.

Collin watched Isabelle the entire time.

She wore a long pink down jacket. With the hood up, she looked like a little fairy. Her cheeks were pink from the cold, and her warm breath made small clouds in the air.

They stayed until after dinner, reluctant to leave.

Diana had driven, so she dropped April off first.

Isabelle was headed in a different direction. Collin insisted on driving her. Unable to refuse, she got into his car.

"I remember you loved tulips the most," Collin said, glancing at the bundle of wax flowers in her arms.

"People change."

The language of tulips was love and eternity. She couldn't give Damian those anymore; the last time had caused a misunderstanding. No wonder he was so happy about it.

Wax flowers symbolized purity and delicacy.

In the dead of winter, she couldn't think of anything better to give.