Sweet Flash Marriage with the Restrained Tycoon (Isabelle and Damien) novel Chapter 454

Chapter 454 A Dance Denied

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“Mom said you can dance. How about a private show for me tonight?” Isabelle leaned in close, her gaze soft as she looked up at

him.

“In your dreams,” Damian replied flatly.

“Ahem.” Brian cleared his throat pointedly from across the room.

“You don’t have to take anything off… just one dance,” Isabelle persisted, clinging to his arm.

Damian pressed his lips together and gently peeled her hand away.

“Please…” Isabelle wrapped herself around him like a stubborn vine.

“Can you two take this somewhere else?” Brian called out, unable to focus. “I’m trying to work here.”

“I’m going to take a shower,” Damian said, finding an escape and heading toward the private suite.

Isabelle slumped back with a pout. This was the first time Damian had outright refused her–usually, he gave in to her requests, og or small.

It presented a fresh challenge, and she started scheming about how she might eventually get him to dance for her, fully clothed of

course.

A private dance at home, behind closed doors, with no audience… that shouldn’t be too much to ask, right?

Isabelle began to picture it–Damian in one of his sharp, tailored suits, moving to the music just for her. The thought alone was thrilling.

Hugging a throw pillow to her chest, she grinned like a fool.

“Hey–wipe that drool. You’re gonna ruin my napping spot,” Brian said without looking up from the computer screen. “How long have you been married? You see him every night and still can’t get enough?”

“I could say the same thing to Diana,” Isabelle retorted, nodding to herself

He was momentarily speechless. “Fine. You win.”

When Damian emerged from the suite, he was wearing loose black athletic shorts that showed off his defined calves. Faint, silvery. scars from past surgeries were visible on his knees,

He had on a simple white crewneck T–shirt. Paired with his striking features, the look was casually polished, like a model straigh out of a high–end catalog.

Then, her eyes traveled downward to the worn–in pair of slippers on his feet.

The impeccable knage instantly shattered.

Seeing now comfortable they both were, it looked like they might actually clock out on time today

“Do you want to shower before we head out?” Damian asked her.

11:21 am

Chapter 454 A Dance Denied.

don’t have a change of clothes here.”

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“There are some in the closet.” Damian took her hand and led her back into the suite, lowering his voice. “Need any help washing up?”

“No…” Isabelle’s cheeks flushed instantly.

She glanced furtively toward Brian. Thankfully, he seemed absorbed in his work and wasn’t paying them any attention–otherwise, she’d never hear the end of it.

Damian chuckled softly and walked over to the built–in closet, sliding the door open. Inside hung several sets of clean clothes. clearly prepared for her.

“When did you get these ready?” Isabelle couldn’t help asking.

She’d only been to his office a handful of times and had never planned on staying over.

“They’ve always been here.”

“Why?”

*Just in case.”

Just in case?

Damian selected a simple, knee–length dress with puff sleeves for her–breathable and perfect for the weather.

Diana hadn’t arrived yet, so Isabelle took a quick shower and changed.

Damian and Brian were deep in discussion at the computer desk. Not wanting to interrupt, she grabbed her phone and sent Anthony a text.

“Anthony, want to join us for dinner?”

“No.”

Isabelle pressed her lips together. “I wanted to ask you about something.”

“Go ahead.”

“Back when you worked at the Midnight Market, did you ever see any first–edition vinyl records for sale? From around the 1900s? Would it even be possible to find one now?”

Damian didn’t need more luxury cars- the ones he bought mostly sat unused, gathering dust in the garage.

Both Bruce and Brian had mentioned he used to be really into vinyl. Records themselves weren’t hard to find, but postine ones from that early era were incredibly rare.

Last time, she’d noticed “Blowin‘ in the Wind” on repeat in his car playlist.

Anthony’s finger hovered over his phone screen.

He had worked at the Midnight Market–because he could handle himself, the owner hired him for security. The place dealt in all sorts of obscure and gray–market items, and there was no shortage of collectors willing to pay top dollar for nostalgia.

11:21 am

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