Morally Grey (Grey Morals #1)

1

Part I

Isabella

They're telling me it's just a meeting. Nothing serious, a catch up between families and old friends.

I know better.

I scour the room as I sit, watching them with their perfect smiles and designer clothes. I look down at my lap. My clothes aren't designer but they're nice enough and modest, which is why my mum made me wear this dress.

I hate this, yet I smile. When I feel the fear creeping in, I smile even bigger. Fake it till you make it is what they say, right? Well, I'm faking for sure. Playing perfect when I feel anything but. Smiling at them like they don't hold my future in their hands.

I look at the clock and see it's only been twenty minutes. He's not here yet. I don't know whether to be thankful or wish for the time to hurry up so this  can be over and done with.

And to think it was only a week ago that I was living my mundane life with work as my biggest stress. I came home from work to see mum with a huge smile on her face and knew something was up. I had hoped she'd gotten a promotion or new job but when she told me the reason for her excitement, my hopes faded quickly.

"They're a very good family who can look after you, Izzy. Their son, Kian is his name, do you remember him?" She was too excited to wait for an answer. "He's decided he's ready to get married and your aunt suggested they come over for a catch up. How great is that?"

I didn't say anything then and instead forced a smile, much like I am smiling now.

Kian Grey Reign. Yes, that is his real surname. The Reign family is well known and very powerful. The scandal between Kian's parents still gets talked about now and it's been over twenty years since they got together.

With his father being an unknown, like me, Kian's grandparents were furious when his mother wanted to marry his father. A true scandal of the day, Kian's dad took his wife's surname, giving each of his children his last name as their middle name instead.

His dad's parents knew our family and it seems like my aunt has kept in touch with them because here they are today. In my home.

Kian's mum sits with her back straight and legs crossed ever so slightly at her feet. His aunt on his dad's side chats happily with my aunt, clearly the strongest connection and reason for our involvement with each other. Kian isn't here yet but he's on his way with his dad. I dread the moment he arrives.

I've never met him but I certainly know of him. Growing up in this city and being similar ages, you can't not know of him. His mysterious, aloof persona matched with his rugged features has him thousands of followers on social media despite the fact that he rarely posts anything. We have friends of friends of course, and he's regularly in my suggested list to follow on Instagram.

I'm not ashamed to admit I searched all of his social media accounts and even checked out his LinkedIn profile. A girl's got to research any guy who's coming over with his family when they're trying to play matchmaker.

I watch the two aunts laugh and joke, seeing clearly how much they get on with each other. I'm really not sure what my role is right now but I know I have to be on my best behaviour.

My mum, always the quieter one out of her and her sister, sits smiling as the two friends reminisce the eighties. Like me, my mum doesn't need to be the centre of attention. She takes part in the conversation but doesn't speak over anyone or interject at any point just to have an input. Watching her smile loosens the tight feeling in my chest and renews my resolve to see this through.

It's just one meeting after all, right?

It's not like Kian is going to take one look at me and decide I'm his forever person. I mean, the guy probably wasn't even serious about getting married, let alone be willingly introduced to a noone like me.

I'm not putting myself down. We're just different. We run in different circles and have a very different way of life. He probably wants to settle down with a glamorous woman who's happy to stay at home and live off his business fortune. That's not me.

I'm practical. I work hard and want to have a successful career. When I was younger,  I watched my mum struggle finances, raising us three children and all without a partner supporting her. She's my whole world and I'll do anything to make her happy.

I'm not stupid enough to believe in a fairytale romance. For me, the only form of pure love I've witnessed in my life has been my mum with us children.  I dream of being able to have my own children one day but don't fool myself into thinking the guy I'm going to marry will love me with everything he has. It's just not realistic.

I'm pulled out of my thoughts by the bell ringing for the front door. My aunt rushes to get it and my heart starts beating faster. I don't know why though.

"Kian! George! What took you so long?" His aunt questions them as they walk through from the hallway into the living room.

"You know how it is Suzy. Our five o'clock meeting ran over and we had to go over the budget for the JetCo project ready for tomorrow. Time just ran away with us," Kian's dad walks to his wife, giving her a tender kiss on the cheek before greeting the rest of us.

A silence lapses across the room as everyone turns to face Kian. I don't dare make eye contact but instead choose to follow the outline of his shoulders in his work suit but not letting my eyes travel further down the path to his arms and broad chest.

His aunt introduces him happily and then proceeds to walk over to me, putting her hand on my back to nudge me forward.

"And this this the girl I was telling you about. Kian, meet Isabella Carlisle."

My breathe leaves my lungs as I finally meet his eyes. Hazel with a framing of long dark lashes, followed by high cheekbones and a chiselled jawline. Woah. Those pictures on instagram did not do this guy justice.

I remember the eyes on us and force a smile through the sudden nerves which have assaulted my stomach. Kian meets my eyes for a brief second before sweeping his gaze down the rest of my body. He then looks away, silently dismissing me as if what he saw wasn't worth a longer glance or even a simple "hi".

"I thought you said she was petite," are his greeting words to his aunt.

Dick.

His aunt laughs awkwardly as she side eyes his mum who at least has the decency to look slightly mortified at her son's words.

"Ahh, well... Izzy is a bit taller I guess," she continues to laugh to fill the silence as we all stand in a broken circle.

It's true. I wouldn't exactly describe myself as being petite because I'm 5ft 7". My sizing comes in at a medium if I want to be able to breathe in my clothes- not exactly a curvy girl but I'm happy enough with my own body that I take offence if someone is trying to insinuate that there's anything wrong with how my body is.

Kian's aunt swiftly moves conversation forward and Kian doesn't spare me another glance as he moves to sit down. He chooses the seat furthest away and barely pays attention to the  conversation, let alone actually contribute with verbally spoken words.

I get it. I don't exactly want to be here either but at least I'm utilising some form of social skills and trying to look interested in what everyone is discussing.

"So, Kian, Izzy. Did you two want have a chat? We'll head into the kitchen to make up some tea and snacks? How about it?" My aunt asks us.

Alone in a room with Kian? Just us?

Well, shit.