Her Haunted Millionaire

ChapterThree

"He's quite pig headed, that uncle of yours.", Isabelle murmurs to Rayan who can't hear her for the relief of seeing the man drive away.

Rayan doesn't know him, but he knows how scary it is when the man gets angry.
Just like his father.

Rayan's mind travels back to the first night he spent in this home.
The loud crashes that came from the man's corridor. Breaking glass and angry screaming. The loud noises made Rayan cower low into his blanket, tears on his face, while the woman with the white hair hurried away towards the noise.

He had wanted to call her back. To tell her to stay away because when he got angry like that, the best thing to do was to hide in a dark corner where he would not find you.
He wanted to tell her to hide, to not do what his mother did.

The boy's grip tightens around Isabelle's leg making her wince and look down in askance. A frown appears on her face when she sees Rayan's ashen face and feels him beginning to tremble.
Slowly, Isabelle leans down and gently removes his vice like grip.

"Hey, hey. Rayan. Shhh, ça va.", she soothes.

Dear God, what really is the matter with this poor child?

Then a thought occurs to Isabelle. One that she doesn't want to consider at all.

Raphaël... he... No. He couldn't possibly be hurting the child... Could he?

How well do you know him?
A little voice whispers in her head.

Isabelle frowns as she lifts Rayan into her arms and hugs him to her, walking back into the house.

She doesn't know him at all. She never really knew the child Raphaël, much less can she claim to know this powerful Greek God billionaire version of him.

He's a billionaire, exactly. He's powerful enough to hide whatever dark and dreary activities he's up to. Especially in his own home.

Isabelle bites the inside of her cheek in anxiousness as she slowly walks around the living room, still carrying Rayan and rubbing his back gently as he has his face buried in the crook of her neck.
He's stopped squirming so she knows he's calmed down.

Isabelle's eyes fall on the photograph of a teenage Raphaël.
She looks at the dark looks of the boy who has turned into a cold man.

But he can't be all that cold. When he speaks, it's actually quite normal. Disregarding the clipped ice tone and dark penetrating gaze he settles on her.

Isabelle sighs.
It just can't be. Her imagination is running away with her.
He referred to Rayan as his nephew this morning. That must have been some affection... right?
It wasn't "the boy"  or "that child". He used the child's name. And in tenderness.
Yes. He cares for the boy and could do no such thing as lay a harmful hand on him.

But then Isabelle remembers the look in his eyes earlier when she walked in on him in the kitchen.

It was one of cold distance. Like he was hardly related to the boy at all.
It had made her falter in her steps when he glared at her from the corner of his eye then left like she wasn't even there.
And the way Rayan had shrunk in his seat.

You see! Don't be an idiot. Something is going on.

Isabelle bites her bottom lip again.

Dear God, no.

She takes a deep breath to calm her nerves. Slowly fire is sparking within her veins.
How can a man stoop so low as to harm an innocent baby?!
Isabelle clenches her teeth and forces her breathing to even.
The rage is growing and she knows she has to stop it, for Rayan's sake.