Chapter 46: Imprint
The name slipped from his lips like a quiet knife.
"Margaret…"
Isabella's eyes flew open in the dark. The single word sliced straight through the afterglow still humming in her veins, turning the warm satisfaction to ice in an instant. Moonlight poured across Julian's sleeping face, soft and silver, highlighting the innocent curve of his lips that had just betrayed her.
Her hand, still trembling faintly from her own release, moved without thinking. Fingers brushed the metal chain she'd left on the nightstand earlier — cool, heavy, waiting. The moment the links touched her skin, the past surged up like a tidal wave, bright and sticky and impossible to hold back.
Noon sunlight slanted through the window slats and spilled across the desk, catching on the plump green succulent that sat on the sill. Tiny beads of water still clung to its leaves, casting a stubby shadow over the glaring white test sheet. The bell had rung minutes earlier, and the usual lunchtime exodus had emptied the room in a rush of chatter and scraping chairs.
A girl with a ponytail reached over and tapped Isabella's shoulder. "Come on, Isabella, stop grinding. You're not even hungry?"
Isabella glanced up, shook her head once. "Not really. Go on without me."
The girl shrugged. "Suit yourself. Catch you later."
Isabella watched her leave, then turned her gaze back to the window. The sky stretched out a perfect, merciless blue. Bright light poured over the fair skin left bare by her short-sleeved uniform, making it look almost translucent. The heat pressed in, thick and sticky, stirring up a frustration she couldn't name and couldn't release. She dropped her head onto her folded arms, lifted one hand to block the glare, and let the boy's name slip out under her breath.
Jules… Jules…
A pair of small, cool hands settled gently over her eyes.
"Guess who I am?"
The voice behind her was light and childish, the kind of bright sound that cut straight through the heavy summer air like a breeze off the river. She knew it instantly.
"Little Jules?" She turned in her seat.
There he stood—barely taller than her while she was sitting down—grinning up at her with that open, silly smile on his sweet, delicate face.
"How did you get all the way here? Where's your dad?"
"He's at work. School let out early today, so I came to see big sister Isabella." His eyes sparkled with pure, uncomplicated joy.
"How'd you even get inside? The security guard didn't stop you?"
"I just followed some lady I didn't know." He set a crinkling plastic bag on her desk. Inside was a cheap, see-through container packed with egg fried rice. "Have you eaten yet? I saved up my allowance for weeks to buy this. Try it, okay?"
Isabella looked at the simple lunch and felt something warm and sweet bloom behind her ribs. She reached out and stroked his hair, voice soft with affection. "Thank you, Jules. Did you eat already?"
He nodded quickly, then hesitated. "Yeah… I did. Hurry and eat so we can go play."
His stomach chose that exact moment to growl, loud and honest.
Isabella's lips curved. "So why the lie, hmm? Bad boys get spanked, you know."
His face flushed bright red. He stared at the floor, mumbling. "I… I forgot to bring two spoons. I was scared if you found out you wouldn't eat it."
She checked the bag. Sure enough, only one spoon. Her heart stuttered, then slammed hard against her ribs.
"Then we'll share," she said gently. "You won't mind eating with your big sister, right?"
"No," he answered at once, cheeks still pink. "Of course not."
He lifted his eyes and watched, a little dazed, as she scooped up a spoonful of rice and brought it to his mouth. Even at that young age, he could tell she was beautiful—like something flawless and precious you just wanted to keep staring at forever.
Spoon by spoon she fed him, taking small bites for herself in between, chewing slowly. She didn't care at all that their mouths were sharing the same spoon. A soft smile stayed on her face the whole time, like the simple act was the best part of her day.
When the container was empty, she unscrewed the lid of her own water bottle and handed it to him. He drank, eyes wide, the cool liquid somehow tasting faintly sweet on his tongue.
"You should head home now, Jules," she told him. "My teacher's pretty strict. If she catches you here she'll smack your hand."
She wanted more time—just the two of them—but the lunch period was almost over. She didn't want anyone else seeing him, didn't want the other kids crowding around and teasing him right in front of her. He was hers. Not a single piece of him was meant to be shared.
"But I want to play with you," he said, catching her hand. His voice turned sweetly whiny in that way only she ever got to hear. "Big sister Isabella, play with me, please?"
He was usually such a good, quiet boy who never asked his father for anything. Around her, though, he opened up completely, letting every want spill out without holding back. The trust, the affection, the way he leaned on her—it filled the empty space his mother had left behind. She had become the one person who gave him the kind of love he had always craved.
She spoiled him without limit, rarely scolded, never once got angry. That was exactly why he could drop the perfect-kid mask when he was with her and just be a playful little boy.
"All right, all right," she laughed softly. "Big sister will go ask the teacher for a leave note. You stay right here and be good, okay?"
"Okay! I promise I'll be good."
She lifted him onto her chair, then headed to the homeroom office. Being the model student had its perks; the leave slip came without a single question. When she returned to the classroom, a handful of girls had already gathered around the boy, peppering him with questions.
The moment she saw them, a blade of ice slid into her gentle eyes—cold enough to freeze anyone at a distance. She walked over without a sound.
The girls noticed her and grinned. "Isabella, is this your little brother? He's adorable."
"Real brother? You two don't even have the same last name."
"You never mentioned him before. His cheeks look so soft—how old is he?"
She bent down, fingers sliding through his black hair in a slow, possessive stroke. Her gaze traced every obedient line of his face. When she spoke, her voice was perfectly sweet and calm. "He's not my brother. He's my future boyfriend. He likes me a lot. I'm not feeling well, so I got a leave slip. We're heading out now."
She ignored the stunned silence that followed, took his small hand, and led him out of the building.
Once they were outside the school gates, he tugged her sleeve, face burning crimson. The words came out in a shy, stumbling rush. "Big sis… Isabella… what does… boyfriend… mean? For me, I mean?"
She crouched so they were eye to eye. In that moment her gaze held everything she had felt since the first stirrings of love—an adoration so complete it had already claimed every part of her. She cupped his soft little face between her palms and pressed her lips to his.
After that the rest of the afternoon blurred. She remembered walking the streets with him, the two of them playing until the sun dipped low, but the exact details had faded. What stayed sharp was the kiss itself—her first, and his. The sweetness of it had burned itself into her like a brand. That single moment had locked her love into place, deep and permanent.
Or maybe it had happened even earlier. Once she decided something belonged to her, she never let it go.
Now, years later, regret clawed at her without mercy.
She had only gone back to see that man one last time because they shared blood. The enormous inheritance had never interested her; it was the kind of money that made people greedy, but she hadn't cared. Yet the will had suddenly grown a conscience, and schemers had swarmed in, inventing every excuse to keep her tied down.
If she had never left, their bond would have been unbreakable—the strongest, truest thing in the world. No one could have touched it. Instead it had become one-sided, and other girls had been given the chance to leave their marks on what was hers.
Isabella stood motionless by the window, the metal chain cold and heavy in her grip. Moonlight poured across the boy's sleeping face. His murmured dream words had finally stopped, but that name still echoed in her head like a mocking echo of everything she had lost.
Her patience was fraying to a razor's edge. She could no longer stand the thought of anyone else living inside his mind. If it wasn't hers yet, she would take it anyway. She would teach him obedience. She would make sure those eyes saw only her.
The chain slid around Julian's body, winding slowly, deliberately. She moved carefully, terrified he might wake and ruin this last perfect night.
"Big sister Isabella… thank you…"
The soft sleep-murmur froze her in place. He stayed perfectly still, breathing deep and even, still so sweetly obedient even in dreams. Her hands stilled. The chain loosened, then slipped away entirely.
It was all right. There was still time.
Those other girls were only temporary. Young, innocent love always crumbled against reality in the end. Only she could stay beside him forever. She had missed his childhood, but she would claim every part of his future instead.