“Let go of me!” I screamed at him, trying to get away from his grip, but it was impossible. “No. I don’t want to be here. Let me go!” I finally stopped fighting him when I realized it only encouraged him to hold me tighter.
I closed my eyes and kept begging him to let me go. He pressed my head against his chest and started his usual procedure when I would have a terrible nightmare. He stroked my hair, caressed my face and spoke softly to me. That managed to affect me every single time because, apart from the moments when he would comfort me at night, he was nothing but cold and cruel towards me. I looked at him in despair because I couldn’t handle his kindness.
“Shh, it will pass. Everything will be okay.” His voice was so convincing, so soothing—so deceiving.
“Please, I just want to g-go,” I said weakly, exposing the sadness in my eyes.
Not a single word crossed his lips. He gently ran his palm along my face and looked at me with emptiness glaring from his deep emerald stare. No matter how hard I tried, I knew I would never understand the motives that drove him to act a particular way. He was fighting something inside him, I could tell, but he was a man with a will made of steel and there was no way to evoke the real compassion within him.
“I cannot give you what you want, Isabelle. You should stop asking.” His voice was relentless.
“No.” I refused to accept this damned fate. “There has to be a way. Please,” I begged him.
“There is only one way,” he muttered as he lifted me up in his arms.
My heart sunk as I was still taken aback by the terrible dream I’d had. I closed my eyes, surrendering my weak body to his strong arms and let him carry me back. When he lowered me on the bed, I started waking up from the fatigue that took hold of me. I gradually opened my eyes and realized that he had brought me to the patio and not the bedroom like I had expected. In slow motion, my gaze wandered around the dark room, taking in the features of the space that surrounded me. Frantically, I searched for Sebastian, but he wasn’t there. I was alone. Fighting the urge to run away again, I lay motionlessly in the dark until I heard the approaching steps and a bright light filled the room. Sebastian walked in, wearing only his pajama bottoms and I was doing my best not to stare at his exposed, bronze chest. Why did the devil have to be so beautiful? As he got closer, I realized that he had a cup of steaming, hot tea in his hands. Before I got the chance to process the sight in front of me, he was already standing above me, his shadow hovering over my body. I looked away towards the window and let my thoughts sink into the black night. The sound of the cup touching the glass table got my attention and when my eyes settled on his captivating face, I remembered that night when I found him there with Cora. As if sensing my discomfort, he knelt down to my level and observed me vigilantly. After staring at me for a while, he handed me the cup of tea and sighed when he noticed I gaped at him warily.
“It’s just chamomile tea. I’m not trying to drug you, I want you to relax,” he said in a quiet voice. His gaze was persistent until I gave in and took a few small sips of the tea, but it didn’t help because there wasn’t any magic potion that could get me to calm down at that moment.
His eyes followed my shaky hand as I placed the hot cup back onto the table.
“We need to talk.” He was calm, but his voice wasn’t soft anymore. It was firm and authoritative.
I didn’t move or make a sound. I stiffened in anticipation because I didn’t know what to expect from him. Maybe he would admit that he’s doing all of this to trick me into giving him a son. As I trembled all over, I closed my eyes and willed myself to think about anything else except my nightmare, which was bound to come true, but the heartbreaking sadness I felt in the dream still ruled my mind. I felt his eyes on me and I shuddered when he tried to touch me. My frightened gaze met his decisive one as I desperately wanted to get inside his mind and read his thoughts. Instead, he read mine.
“I would never do that to you, Isabelle. I wouldn’t keep you away from your child,” he said in a low voice and I looked at him, confused and stunned at the same time. I opened my mouth in wonder, unsure of the words I wanted to say, but he spoke again before I even got a chance to express my turmoil.
“You were talking in your sleep. You begged me not to take away your son and swore that you would do whatever it takes if I showed you some mercy.” His voice broke and he closed his eyes. “Isabelle, I know that I hurt you badly, but I would never—” He stopped talking, like it was painful for him to finish the sentence.
I gazed at him, untrusting. I was sure it was a trick and that danger lurked right around the corner. I wouldn’t let him fool me. He explained his heartless intentions that day when I found the contract in his office.
“You said that you would get your son and I—”
“I know what I’ve said. You don’t need to remind me,” he interrupted me in a determined voice. “Those were nothing but empty threats. You have no reason to live in fear that your dream will come true. Having a baby isn’t something I will expect of you in the near future anyway.”
Liar! Liar! A sarcastic smile escaped my lips as I looked at him incredulously. This man thought I was a fool. I was sick and tired of his lies and deceit.
“Theodore told me you courteously informed him that he can expect a grandson so please, don’t mock my intelligence with your false display of kindness.”
“There is no false display of kindness; I want to be kind to you!” he said firmly.
“No, you don’t!” My voice was shaking. “All you want to do is play your mind games. If you wanted to be kind to me, you would have given me a divorce because that is the only humane thing to do.”
He flinched, like my words had struck him, but even before he said anything, I knew that his standpoint on that matter was more than crystal clear. No son, no divorce.
“Is that why you were having the nightmare? Because my father told you he expected a grandson?” he asked, without commenting on my repeated demand for a divorce.
I closed my eyes while the memories of pain and humiliation returned to torture me. Sebastian observed me as I tried to keep my sanity intact. Then he sat next to me on the sofa, leaning his back on the soft pillows. Surprisingly, instead of coming closer, he moved away from me, keeping the space that was building the wall between us.
“Isabelle, my family can’t know. My father especially...” I cautiously looked towards him, wondering what he was talking about. “He can’t know I’m sparing you the responsibility of fulfilling the terms of that contract.”
For a second, I was taken aback by what he had told me, but I knew I needed to stay guarded. I couldn’t let him manipulate me.
“So that’s why you told him that he can expect a grandson? You must think I’m a complete idiot.” I laughed sarcastically, avoiding the urge to cry.
“I had to tell him what he wanted to hear because that was the only way I could protect you,” he asserted in a firm voice, looking at me like he was expecting a sign that I trusted him.
But I didn’t trust him. How could I? The only thing that preoccupied my mind was the bitter truth that I was trapped in the middle of a cruel game that was being maneuvered by rich and powerful people; people who couldn’t have cared less about my well–being. And the worst of it was that I didn’t stand a chance against them. Sebastian could have feigned his concern for me all he wanted, but I knew him better than he thought. He wouldn’t go to great lengths to protect me from harm—not when his hard-earned inheritance was at stake.
“Sooner or later they’ll turn up the heat and you’ll give them what they want. It’s what you want as well,” I said with resignation.
Suddenly he denied me the privilege of keeping his distance and he pulled me towards him, placing his hands on my shoulders.
“No! No matter what, I give you my word that I’ll be patient with you. I’ll wait. I won’t touch you until you tell me to.”
Honey talk, empty words, lies and deceit... but still, that
sweet nectar coming from his lips was a poisonous cure to my broken heart. If only it was real...
“You won’t wait forever,” I whispered, focusing my eyes on the darkness outside once again and I could see his baffled expression reflecting on the window. “I know about you and Cora.” I turned to him again. “Maybe she’s not your lover, but she’s the woman you want to be with. I know that she is the one you were supposed to marry and I’m standing in the way of your happiness. This supposed feeling of guilt you feel towards me will soon be overpowered by your love for her.” I didn’t even blink as I confronted him with the truth. Tears threatened to come out, but I didn’t divert my gaze.
He removed his hands from me and covered them over his face while taking a deep breath. When his green eyes peeked to the surface again, it was clear that mentioning Cora did something to him, and that it would have been better if I hadn’t brought up her name.
“For heaven’s sake, how many times do I have to tell you that Cora bears no significance in all of this?”
“How could she bear no significance to your decisions when you’re in love with her?” I paused, observing his attempt to fool me with his stunned expression. “I’ve seen you kiss her that night and I heard everything you said to her right here in this very room. I met her at your parent’s house tonight and everything was crystal clear to me. I mean, she suits you in every way possible. She has both style and manners. I’m sure she wouldn’t embarrass herself with the wrong choice of cutlery. She is well educated and...”
“Don’t,” he stopped me. “I’m not in love with her. She is just a friend who is going through a tough time and what you saw that night was just two friends consoling each other. That kiss was the last thing I could give her to make her feel better. It was our goodbye.” He took a long pause. “I would never hurt you because of her.”
“What does it matter if it’s because of her, your family or whatever the reason? You will hurt me again, Sebastian. You’re only trying to put a bandage on a deeply cut wound by denying it.”
“Isabelle...” My eyes blinked rapidly, caught in his mesmerizing stare. “I told you I don’t mean to cause anymore harm. What do I have to do to get you to believe me?”
“Nothing you say or do can change the way I feel,” I said in a detached, quiet voice, wrapping my mind into a web of disturbing thoughts. “Maybe you don’t mean to do it, but I’m afraid you’ll cause a lot more harm than you think.” My voice cracked and I bit my lower lip to stop myself from whimpering, but it didn’t help, because silent tears started streaming down my face like they would never come to an end.
“No, Isabelle!” he cursed and wiped away the evidence of my sadness. “No more pain,” he whispered, suddenly pulling me into a tight embrace.
At first I wanted to deny the solace he offered me, telling him harshly that I didn’t want him to touch me. But he sensed that I ached for comfort, and he patiently waited for me to yield to him. I needed some kind of shelter, even if it meant I had to submit to the man who had destroyed me without a shred of mercy. He wrapped his arms around me and laid my tired head on his chest. I absorbed the warmth of his muscles as his tender touch traveled across my body, leaving a soothing trail which brought the strange feeling of sudden peace to my mind. He spread light kisses over my forehead and my temple, kissing away the tears that kept falling. The calmness he had provided me with had a temporary healing effect and though I wouldn’t allow myself to believe a word he said, I melted when he whispered to me.
“Don’t be afraid of me.” He tried to reassure me, like he knew I needed something to hold onto. “I’ll give you time. All the time you need. Close your eyes and go back to sleep. It will get better, I promise. No more pain, Isabelle. I will never hurt you again.”
I gave in to the melancholy of the moment, thinking how ironic it was that it seemed he would have said anything except the words I needed to hear. The simple words I suddenly imagined him saying: I’m sorry. Please, forgive me... As I drifted to sleep, I realized that he would never swallow his pride. He was Sebastian Everett. He didn’t believe in remorse. He would never look me in the eyes and simply admit the wrongness of his actions.
Chapter Twenty-Three
In the early morning, when the light breeze coming from the opened window invited my eyes to open in semi–darkness, I realized that I wasn’t in the patio anymore. Somehow, I’d ended up back in the bedroom. The last thing I remembered was falling asleep in Sebastian’s arms, but he wasn’t beside me anymore. I looked around for a while, slowly realizing that I was alone. His promises, kind words of reassurance and the tenderness he treated me with came back to haunt me. Maybe it had all been a dream? Trying to shed some light onto the gap in my memory, I got up and walked to the window. It was still early and the sun wasn’t up yet, so I could let my thoughts sink into the soothing tranquility brought about by the birth of a new day. I was tired, but I couldn’t sleep anymore and sudden desire filled my heart as my eyes fell on the drawer I hadn’t opened in a long time. My lips twisted in a smile when I pulled it out and looked at the notebook with my unfinished story. After a long time, I felt like I wanted to write again, even though I wasn’t sure how the story would progress. All I knew was that I needed some kind of distraction from everything that had happened. I had to gather my thoughts and try to forget about Sebastian’s comforting words. Deep down, I knew I had to find a way to keep my distance and stay guarded because trusting him was extremely dangerous.
I picked up a pen and the notebook, put on some clothes and decided to go out and enjoy the sunrise. Absolute silence ruled the house and I moved around as quietly as I could, trying not to make a sound. When I got to the patio, I was welcomed by the unexpected sight of Sebastian sleeping peacefully on the sofa. My gaze lingered on him for a short while and I couldn’t help but think that he looked so innocent, so harmless like he wouldn’t hurt a fly. The famous saying that one shouldn’t judge a book by its cover sprang to my mind. The beautiful features of his face caught my attention and I observed him studiously. He looked like the prince from a fairytale and even the charming heroes from my imagination weren’t as handsome as the man in front of me. His beauty was surreal, but then again, so was the cruelness of his heart.
His body moved on the sofa, causing me to divert my gaze from him and focus on the glass coffee table instead. The cup of chamomile tea he had made for me was still there, a reminder that none of it had been a dream. He had actually held me in his arms, whispering reassurances and sweet nothings to me. He had actually made me question my sanity, pulling me way deeper than I was willing to go; asking much more than I was able to give.
The squeaky sound of the leather, caused by his twisting and turning, caught my attention and my eyes returned to him. As the sun started rising up, illuminating his face, I couldn’t believe that someone could be so deceivingly beautiful on the outside, yet so frighteningly dangerous on the inside.
Not wanting to wake him up, I walked on my toes and sneaked out into the garden, carefully closing the door behind me. The fresh air of the summer morning and the warm feeling of sun on my skin, made me feel at ease as I walked up to the swing chair. Instead of worrying my mind with troubling thoughts, I felt humbled and small before the power of the world that surrounded me, and it encouraged me to open my notebook and spread the inspiring words over its pages. I made my wounded heroine fight for herself and I gave her hope. Just like the character from my story, I had decided—even if it was only temporary—to return to the moment when I was a hopeless dreamer who believed in happy endings. I kept writing for a long time and I had no idea how late it was or if someone was looking for me. Strangely, I didn’t care. I simply wanted to enjoy the moments of peace and find pleasure in doing what I loved to do. I was so focused on the progressive storyline I was creating, that I didn’t pay any attention to my surroundings.
Suddenly, I heard a strange noise and my first thought was that Sebastian came to look for me, but when I looked around
there was nothing there; only the sound of the summer breeze that flew through the numerous branches of the trees. Convinced that I must have imagined it, I confidently returned to my writing. And there it was again; that unusual sound that kept coming from somewhere behind me, but it wasn’t the trees, nor the summer breeze. I turned around to determine the source of the noise, but again, there was nothing.
“You can pretend that you don’t see me, but I’m right here, Mrs. Gold digger!” A familiar voice startled me and I broke out in a cold sweat when I connected that voice to a face.
With reluctance, I looked up and was astonished by what I saw. Teresa stood right in front of me, but she was a shadow of her former self. In the few weeks since she had been fired, she’d started resembling an apparition. Her skin was pale and her cheeks had sunk in so much that her cheekbones showed through her skin. When I looked at her thin waist, I gulped from the shock. It was obvious that she probably hadn’t eaten for days.
“Teresa,” I whispered.
Her body was shaking and she looked distressed. She glared at me with a hostile expression on her face and I feared she wasn’t in her right mind. I wondered why she had returned and how she managed to get past the security gate.
“What are you looking at?” she yelled at me, her voice giving away how unstable she was.
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