by Dark Angel
It resembles something out of a horror movie. The house that kids don’t trick or treat at and run from in fear.
The ivy-coated exterior and shadowy dominance of the house intimidate most.
My family has owned the place since before I was born, and not many will ever know that. We keep it secret for reasons like tonight.
I inhale deeply as Benny and Merc jump out of the car.
Isobel glances at me with hatred in her eyes. A part of me wishes it could be any other way, but it can’t. I need to keep her well-hidden here for a while—for her safety and my own.
Estbow Manor is safe, but we can’t take any chances. Not with the treasure we’ve brought here tonight. A Capulet on the grounds of the manor is unfounded, but there’s a first time for everything.
A sharp whistle tells me everything’s good. The house is clear. Benny’s given the okay.
“We’re getting out,” I say.
I don’t wait for a response before getting out, though I extend my hand when I do.
Ignoring the offer, Isobel exits the car, her hands crossing over her chest.
“No, thanks. I’m quite capable of caring for myself,” Isobel snaps back.
I know she’s mad right now, but once this is over, Isobel will be okay.
Speckles of rain hit my face. The heavens are crying tonight. I’ve given them a good reason to weep.
As we walk to the manor, the earthy scent of moss and forest is in the air. There’s a crunch of leaves under our feet, and I’m happy to be home.
I remember playing hide and seek here as a kid. No one could ever find me. I’ve always been one step ahead and good at what I do.
Those were innocent times. I didn’t care about the world, and I had no idea I’d be raised to kill by the time I was fifteen.
At times, I miss being a child—the innocence of it. And yet I see that innocence reflected in Isobel’s face. She’s never had to grow up and to face the real world.
Her daddy’s protected her well until now. And I think it’s time I show her what it means to be a woman—an empowered woman instead of a princess locked in a tower.
Isobel stops, her feet pressing into the ground as though she’s a disobedient child.
“I refuse to go inside of that house. I will not be inside of anything that belongs to a Montague,” Isobel says insolently.
I’m pissed. It doesn’t have to be as hard as Isobel’s making it.
“Fine! We can do this the hard way, but either way, you’re going in!” I growl.
I reach out, grab her hand and yank the stubborn girl towards the manor. If she won’t come willingly, then I’ll force her.
“If you would stop with the fucking attitude already,” I grumble, my words harsh.
I can tell that the sound of the wind whispering through the trees is sending shivers up her spine.
“NOW!” I shout.
The louder my voice, the more she trembles. I won’t deny that I like that effect.
With a tight grip on Isobel’s hand, I push open the solid oak door. It’s dark, heavy, and bulletproof.
“Get the hell in the house, Isobel,” I demand.
With reluctance, she steps into the fortress that will become her new home.
“It’s not fucking quicksand. You won’t sink into the floor, nor will my blood taint your precious Capulet blood,” I said.
I turn to Isobel. I’m mesmerized by her blue eyes, even in the dark. They’re the color of the ocean.
It’s easy to get lost in this woman.
“You’re here to stay, so this can either be easy or rough. I don’t want to lock you in your room, but I will if you disobey me,” I state.
Kidnapping is business. I won’t make a mistake. Not today, not ever.
Isobel tries to hold back.
“You can’t do this. I’m a Capulet. My family is powerful, and you will die,” she says.
I laugh out loud.
“I’ve already kidnapped you,” I say testily. “You’re not leaving here.”
I forgot how much I loved this place. The décor’s gothic. The interior of the mansion is dark.
Everything is spotless. I can’t even find a hint of a musty odor.
Benny and Merc pull the white sheets from the furnishings. Suddenly, the place invokes memories.
I busted my head open on that table in the grand dining room.
Chipped a tooth on the staircase railing.
I had my first kiss by the pool.
Isobel shuffles her feet, looking around the room.
I laugh. Did Isobel expect this place to be a hole in the wall dive? My family has money—as much of it or more than her own family. We’re fucking billionaires, and I live in style.
I want her bad, but I won’t force that. She needs to want me, too.
Hopefully she does soon, because my cock is so rock hard.
I can smell her perfume lingering around her. The way a strand of blonde hair hangs in her face makes it hard to keep my hands to myself.
“Your hair…it’s soft,” I say, reaching out and pushing the golden lock behind her ear. “Better now,” I whisper.
She didn’t smack me, so maybe that’s a good sign.
“I want to go home. If you let me go, I’ll never tell my family who it was that kidnapped me. Okay?” she asks, trying to make a deal for herself.
I trace my finger over the dark oak table in the foyer, trying hard to contain a laugh. It would be rude of me to make fun of Isobel.
“No, but thank you for being worried about me getting in trouble,” I say.
I care about this woman. Even if there was a way to let her go, I wouldn’t. I want her here with me.
I’m hoping to make her feel something about me, something akin to what I feel for her. I thought she did, but this kidnapping has changed the way she looked at me. She doesn’t trust me anymore.
Benny’s in the kitchen making a sandwich. The guy only ever thinks about food.
“Fridge is fully stocked with food for us. Even some of those fancy little bottles of imported water,” he calls out.
I shake my head, laughing. It’s a water bottle, not a bottle of Dom Perignon.
I exhale sharply, my eyes never diverting from Isobel. Her beauty holds me captive.
“Give it a chance here. I won’t hurt you. I promise,” I whisper.
I have a reputation to protect. I don’t need anyone thinking that I’m going soft because Isobel is beautiful. But goddamn, she’s luminescent.
“I won’t give it a chance...ever,” Isobel says.
I know this will be rough for her, but I can’t let her go.
I listen to the sound of the rain hitting the roof. It’s always been one of my favorite sounds. Well, that and thunderstorms, and the sound of a woman crying my name as I thrust into her.
I digress. I already know that Isobel’s the one, and I won’t be thinking about another woman anytime soon.
“Benny will show you to the tower in the east wing. Yes, you’ll be locked in your room,” I say.
Isobel opens her mouth but shuts it quick.
I won’t take any chances on her escaping.
And I want to kiss her, but I can’t. Not now.
I don’t want Benny or Merc to think that I can’t be trusted. I don’t anyone to know the feelings I have for her.
I hope that in due time, she’ll understand that this is all for business, nothing personal. And most of all, she needs to know that I would never hurt her.
“Locked in a tower? Am I Rapunzel?” Isobel laughs wickedly.
I know sarcasm when I hear it.
“If you want to be Rapunzel, fine. But you’re with me either way,” I say.
There’s no need for another word between us right now.
“Benny, come take Miss Capulet to her room,” I say, my voice louder than usual.
With a sandwich in his hand, Benny saunters into the room.
“Okay, Miss Capulet. Let me show you to your room,” Benny says.
Despite my tough exterior, I hope she isn’t scared.
New place. Dark mansion. And a kidnapping by none other than me, her dark lord in waiting.
She doesn’t say goodbye when she walks off with him.
I shake my head as I walk to the huge picture window. The view from this house is magnificent.
I watch as a stream of water forms in the grass from the rain. My thoughts are lost in Isobel.
The crystal-clear fluid is building a path through the overgrown garden.
Should I go to her room later when everyone is asleep? I don’t know if I can hold back these feelings for much longer.
She had wanted me before I kidnapped her.
I don’t think that’s changed...has it?
13
Isobel
I look around the stone-laden walls that are lit by sconces.
Everything about this place is dark and mysterious—and it screams old money.
What else would I expect from a Montague prison?
I have rarely been out of the city, but Tristan’s brought me to what feels like the edge of civilization.
How could I have been so dumb as to kiss a stranger in the hallway? I should’ve known he wasn’t into me. I should’ve known it was all a Montague ploy to steal me away.
People always have alternative motives with me, and Tristan’s no different.
And yet I can’t explain the way my heart is beating uncontrollably fast, not from fear, but from want and desire for him. I try to push the thoughts out of my brain, but it’s difficult.
He’s my captor, and yet I desire him so much. He’s everything I can imagine a man would and should be, but he’ll never be mine. He’s a lie.
And I know it’s dangerous territory to even think these thoughts about Tristan.
The guy named Benny leads me through the hallways, and he’s actually very nice.
“So this place is very old. But it has a lot of history, and I think you’ll be comfortable here. It also has every modern amenity, so as long as you’re a guest here, you won’t have to go without,” he says.
I think that in another life, I might be friends with this guy. But he’s a Montague, and I have to keep that in mind.
“Yeah, thanks. That helps a lot. It’s almost like I’m not being imprisoned,” I say sarcastically.
He doesn’t know what it’s like to have been kept a prisoner all your life. I’m exchanging one cell for another. Granted, this might be better than the Governor’s mansion, but at the end of this ordeal, they might kill me.
That makes my stay here a little bit more unbecoming.
The Montagues have finally done it. They’ve stolen me away. My father’s greatest fear has been realized.
Not because he loves me, but because I’m the heiress to his throne, the only child. He’ll be mad to have been slighted and to have word get out that the Montagues have all the power now.
I shudder when I think of what my father would do to Tristan if he gets his hands on him.
Benny leads me into a room that’s in a tower. It’s circular and has windows that overlook the grounds. Everything’s dark and draped in shadows. Benny turns on a few lights, and I see that the room is well-furnished.
It really does have every modern comfort while still maintaining the character of an old home or rather an estate.
Still, I can’t help feeling frightened of this place. It’s very different from the high-rise that I’m used to.
Benny is showing me around the room. There’s an en-suite bathroom beyond the closet, and the room is pretty big. Huge velvet curtains provide the shelter of darkness that I need.
I feel like drawing the curtains and never coming out again. I just want to hibernate and to be unknown.
The Montagues have stolen me away, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I think of Thelma and how worried she must be. Has she returned home to see that I’m gone?
“So, if you need anything at all, just press this button and someone will help you,” Benny says, pointing to the phone in the room.
“What? Am I staying in a damn hotel?” I ask him.
“No, certainly not. Tristan doesn’t want you to leave this room. There will be guards outside.”
I expected as much.
“Fine, I don’t care. This is just another prison to me,” I tell Benny.
He looks at me with compassion, like he understands. And then he takes his leave, and I’m just alone.
I walk around the room, thinking about what this means. I don’t know what will happen to me here. I don’t know if I’m in grave danger or not.
One thing I do know is that the war has begun. It’s a war that’s been building between two families for decades. There have been battles before, but with me being taken, things are going to catapult to a new level.
And I’ll be right in the middle of it...so will Tristan.
I try to push him out of my mind. I try to tell myself that I don’t care about him. But I can’t fight what my body is craving.
I want him. Despite my best intentions and despite the fact that he’s my enemy, I need Tristan...inside of me, to penetrate my walls.
And then the intensity of my emotions bear down on me all at once. What am I doing?
I can’t be here. I can’t be with him, nor do I trust him.
I have to get out.
Suddenly, I feel like I can’t breathe. Being essentially imprisoned will do that to a girl.
I fling open the doors to the terrace and walk out onto the little stone balcony.
At least Tristan didn’t think it necessary to lock the windows. I definitely need some fucking air.
I stand outside and the rain is falling. I let it just hit my skin so that I can feel alive, and so that I can feel like things are going to be okay. I allow myself to get drenched by the downpour.
I think of Tristan and how he’s not real, a facade of a man that I fell for.
Again, thoughts of death creep into my mind. I can easily jump from here, then this will all be over.
But then, there would be no more Tristan. And somehow a part of me feels like that would be worse than death.
14
Tristan
There’s nothing but darkened shadows and dim lighting.
I walk into her room, but I don’t see her, and for a second I think maybe she’s escaped.
I have incoming guards to watch her room, but they’re not here yet.
Our plan to capture the princess was so last minute that we didn’t have time to arrange everything. I knew to bring her here, away from the city, but everything else still needs to be put into place.
I walk through the space looking for her, and then I see the balcony doors open. I curse myself for giving her the freedom to go outside.
What was I thinking?
Death might be on the mind of my princess, or maybe she was dumb enough to try to escape down the ivy.
I realize my mistake too late as I run to the doors and don’t see her there.
Please god, tell me she didn’t fling herself over the edge, ending all of this drama.
Upon opening the doors wide open, I see my beautiful angel, standing in the rain at the side of the house and getting all wet. She’s totally drenched.
I wrap my arms around her and pull her inside.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I ask her. “You trying to kill yourself?”
“I don’t know, am I?” she says, looking at me with defiance in her eyes.
What did I expect? I’m keeping her here against her will. It’s her Montague prison.
“That was a stupid move, Isobel. You could’ve died,” I say, not knowing what to say or how to pull away and end the conversation.
I want to be with her. I want to finish what we’ve started.
She looks at me with rage all over her face and demeanor. “Yeah, so? What do you care if I die? You’ve been taking advantage of me since the moment we first met.”
She look
s at me, daring me to say the truth. She knows it, and I know it.
We’re walking the faint line between lust and love. I knew from the moment I set eyes on her, shirking under the weight of the Governor’s arm, that she was mine.
This is love. It’s a lot more complicated than I ever would’ve thought. But it’s love all the same.
It’s something I never thought to feel, and yet here she is, shaking in my arms, cold from the chill of the rain.
How could she come so close to danger? Standing outside in the rain like that was a reckless move, and I intend to make her pay.
I pull her into my arms and hold her tightly despite the fact that she’s trying to get away from me. She’ll never get out of my grasp, that I know for sure.
“Don’t say that, Isobel. Don’t talk about death like that—like it’s such a small thing,” I say to her seriously.
“Then why, Tristan? Why did you have to kidnap me? And lie to me? You know I might’ve gone willingly.”
I retort, “No, Isobel. You ran away from me. What else was I supposed to do? Let you go to the arms of the Governor forever?”
She pulls back away from me, and I let her go. She looks sad.
She’s still wearing my suit jacket, as well as her silk robe and white lingerie. But all of it is soaked through.
She takes the jacket off. I watch her closely, admiring every curve of her beautiful body.
“So, your solution was to barge in on me, take me away from everything I love, and bring me out here to god knows where?”
She’s down to the just the rain-soaked robe. I can see the slim lines of her body beneath it, and I have to tell myself that it’s not right. The girl’s a fucking virgin.
Yes, I owe her apologies, maybe...but I’m not an apologetic man.
“I had to do it. You think I was just gonna stand by and let you marry that man, the Governor? Fuck, Isobel. The guy’s a criminal.”
“Well, so are you!” she says furiously, and it’s the truth.
I have no recourse except to tell her the truth.
“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, do you realize that?” I say, admitting it all in a kind of defeat.
She looks at me with a certain amount of caution in her eyes, and it starts to register. Yes, my feelings are real. She’s not alone in this.