nd new rage. Magnus Lloyd stood over his son, his face florid.

ed the crystal on the decanter. He struck the floor with his silver-topped cane. "

ger softened fractionally. "Isabel. You're here. The L

ack, stepping in front of Dove protectively. "My marriage to

y," she whispered, a hand to her throat. "I ne

's family is highly respected in the medical communit

ve all, a pragmatist. But he shook his head. "Regardless, Isabel

marriage," he said, his voice ringing with false bravad

the old man's neck. He stared at his only son, his

m fell

re exchange with the detach

t out a heavy, defeated sigh. He turned to

sincerity. "As long as you wish to remain a part of th

was handing her the knife, making her

ooked smug, certain the woman he believed was still pathe

formance. Any lingering respect she might have had for hi

lative old man, the weak-wille

loud, but it cut through the silenc

t on the

The smug certainty on Darius's face dissolved into

certainty that she had just made the right choice. And th