ONE: ISABELLE
It’s been ten days.
Ten days since I walked out on Cam. Ten days
since I looked him in the eye and lied like I’ve never lied before:
told him that who he is disgusts me, and that I wanted to end our
relationship before it had barely begun.
I didn’t mean a word of it. It broke my
heart to walk away, and now that pain has haunted me every minute
of every day since.
I want to call him. Reach out, just to see
him again. I want to tell him I didn’t mean the cruel things I
said. I want to swear that I’ve never felt so safe, so loved, as
when I’m in his arms. Submitting to his commands.
Surrendering to the pleasure only he can
give.
But I have no choice. Not with Brent
blackmailing me like this: using the most terrible secrets of my
life to buy my loyalty. He ordered me to leave Cam and move back
into my old apartment with him, and I obeyed, but that hasn’t
stopped me from spending every waking moment trying to think up a
way to leave him again, and all my time asleep dreaming of Cam: his
voice, his touch. His mouth. His demands.
If anyone learns the truth about me…
I stop that thought dead, turning away from
my grim reflection in the dressing room mirror. I’m back in my old
bedroom, surrounded by pretty things: soft blue velvet curtains and
a gold silk bedspread, gilt-edged mirrors and a walk-in closet full
of designer clothes that’s bigger than most people’s
apartments.
None of it means a thing to me. Not without
Cam.
There’s a noise at the door and then Brent
comes barging in. “Get a move on, I’m ready to go.”
“I told you, you’re not allowed in
here!”
Brent sneers. His gaze scans over me.
“You’re not wearing that, are you?”
I tense. He told me I had to go with him to
dinner. I didn’t realize it came with a dress code. “What’s wrong
with it?” I’m wearing a simple black dress and heels, not feeling
like going the whole nine yards when inside, I can’t stand being
near him.
Brent snorts. “You look like a fucking
depressive nun. Put on something decent, show off that body of
yours.”
I cross my arms over my chest, shuddering at
the thought of his eyes on me. “No.”
Brent stalks closer. “Aren’t you forgetting
something, sis ?” he demands in a low voice. “I’m the one
calling the shots this time. I let you get away with running off to
that Scottish asshole once, but now you need to make it up to
me.”
He reaches out to touch me, but I shrink
away. “Keep your hands off me! That was our deal, remember? I came
back, I’m paying your bills, but you don’t ever get to touch me,
ever again.”
Brent’s eyes flash with anger. “Frigid
bitch,” he curses. “Time was, you were begging for it. Couldn’t get
enough of me.”
That was never true, but I can’t afford
to push him too far .
“Times change,” I spit back, bile rising in
my throat. “Now, do you want me at this dinner? If so, let me get
dressed in peace.”
Brent pauses, then decides. “We’re not
finished here,” he says, backing away. “You belong to me, and that
means all of you.” He grins lasciviously. “Just wait.”
He walks out, slamming the door behind
him.
I sink onto the bed, my heart pounding. I’m
so tired. I’ve kept him at arm’s length all this time: filling my
days with appointments and social events, and locking my bedroom
door at night. But I know Brent, and he won’t stop – not until he
gets what he wants. I’ll never be safe.
I swallow back my fear and go pick out a new
dress: something short and tight and silver, to turn heads the way
he wants. Maybe if he gets enough jealous attention, he’ll be in a
more forgiving mood.
Either that, or he’ll get too drunk and high
to pay attention to me.
I can dream, can’t I?
* * *
Brent drives us downtown, speeding too fast
in the sportscar I’m still paying off for him. Ever since his trust
fund got cut off, he’s been depending on me to maintain his lavish
lifestyle. It’s the only
It’s been ten days.
Ten days since I walked out on Cam. Ten days
since I looked him in the eye and lied like I’ve never lied before:
told him that who he is disgusts me, and that I wanted to end our
relationship before it had barely begun.
I didn’t mean a word of it. It broke my
heart to walk away, and now that pain has haunted me every minute
of every day since.
I want to call him. Reach out, just to see
him again. I want to tell him I didn’t mean the cruel things I
said. I want to swear that I’ve never felt so safe, so loved, as
when I’m in his arms. Submitting to his commands.
Surrendering to the pleasure only he can
give.
But I have no choice. Not with Brent
blackmailing me like this: using the most terrible secrets of my
life to buy my loyalty. He ordered me to leave Cam and move back
into my old apartment with him, and I obeyed, but that hasn’t
stopped me from spending every waking moment trying to think up a
way to leave him again, and all my time asleep dreaming of Cam: his
voice, his touch. His mouth. His demands.
If anyone learns the truth about me…
I stop that thought dead, turning away from
my grim reflection in the dressing room mirror. I’m back in my old
bedroom, surrounded by pretty things: soft blue velvet curtains and
a gold silk bedspread, gilt-edged mirrors and a walk-in closet full
of designer clothes that’s bigger than most people’s
apartments.
None of it means a thing to me. Not without
Cam.
There’s a noise at the door and then Brent
comes barging in. “Get a move on, I’m ready to go.”
“I told you, you’re not allowed in
here!”
Brent sneers. His gaze scans over me.
“You’re not wearing that, are you?”
I tense. He told me I had to go with him to
dinner. I didn’t realize it came with a dress code. “What’s wrong
with it?” I’m wearing a simple black dress and heels, not feeling
like going the whole nine yards when inside, I can’t stand being
near him.
Brent snorts. “You look like a fucking
depressive nun. Put on something decent, show off that body of
yours.”
I cross my arms over my chest, shuddering at
the thought of his eyes on me. “No.”
Brent stalks closer. “Aren’t you forgetting
something, sis ?” he demands in a low voice. “I’m the one
calling the shots this time. I let you get away with running off to
that Scottish asshole once, but now you need to make it up to
me.”
He reaches out to touch me, but I shrink
away. “Keep your hands off me! That was our deal, remember? I came
back, I’m paying your bills, but you don’t ever get to touch me,
ever again.”
Brent’s eyes flash with anger. “Frigid
bitch,” he curses. “Time was, you were begging for it. Couldn’t get
enough of me.”
That was never true, but I can’t afford
to push him too far .
“Times change,” I spit back, bile rising in
my throat. “Now, do you want me at this dinner? If so, let me get
dressed in peace.”
Brent pauses, then decides. “We’re not
finished here,” he says, backing away. “You belong to me, and that
means all of you.” He grins lasciviously. “Just wait.”
He walks out, slamming the door behind
him.
I sink onto the bed, my heart pounding. I’m
so tired. I’ve kept him at arm’s length all this time: filling my
days with appointments and social events, and locking my bedroom
door at night. But I know Brent, and he won’t stop – not until he
gets what he wants. I’ll never be safe.
I swallow back my fear and go pick out a new
dress: something short and tight and silver, to turn heads the way
he wants. Maybe if he gets enough jealous attention, he’ll be in a
more forgiving mood.
Either that, or he’ll get too drunk and high
to pay attention to me.
I can dream, can’t I?
* * *
Brent drives us downtown, speeding too fast
in the sportscar I’m still paying off for him. Ever since his trust
fund got cut off, he’s been depending on me to maintain his lavish
lifestyle. It’s the only
Similar Books
