After another sleepless night, I nurtured my raging headache at the breakfast table while Theresa served my breakfast. It was of small comfort that she chose to take heed in my warning and act professionally in my presence. I didn't care either way. One more transgression and she would be fired. In reality, I would have preferred her to screw up and provide me with a reason to get rid of her. When I disliked someone, it was an irreversible state of things and there was nothing she could do to get in my good graces and change my opinion. She was better off working for another employer. Alas, the girl seemed to have possessed the ability to read my thoughts and she addressed me in a small, regretful voice.
"Sir, I must apologize for what happened the other day." I looked up to see she avoided meeting my gaze. I held in a smirk of contempt as she started blushing. "You see, I didn't mean anything inappropriate. I just meant to say that the wedding celebration must have been long and exhausting."
The way she recited the words made me think she'd practiced the apology in the solitude of her small room, standing in front of the mirror. I remained silent for a few moments and while I observed her nervous fidgeting, I contemplated on not saying anything at all. I couldn't care less about her attempt to apologize, but I soon realized that taking the easy way out would rid me of her annoying presence.
"Fine. I accept your apology," I replied in a cold voice at last, wanting her to go away. I confronted her with the storm in my eyes. "Make sure to keep in mind that I am not one of your girlfriends, but the man who pays your wages. Next time you speak out of line, there will be serious consequences."
She seemed struck by my words, but accepted them nonetheless. What other choice did she have?
"I understand, Sir," she said in a humble manner. "If I may add, I think you have a lovely wife. I've met her yesterday and I wanted to talk to her in the garden, but then I saw..." she started babbling again and suddenly kept herself in check. "I'm sorry, Sir. I know I shouldn't..." she apologized and headed outside.
"Theresa," I called after her and she stopped immediately, turning around to face me. "What did you see?"
God dammed. I hated myself for asking, but the need to know was stronger than anything.
Theresa's eyes went distant as she replied, "I saw her crying."
I exhaled and covered my face with newspaper so my maid wouldn't see the impact her words had on me. There was that pressure again and it was hard to breathe. Why the hell did I care if the little gold digger was crying? Since when did I give a damn about her tears?
In that moment, Isabelle entered the dining room and there was no time for me to chase the gloomy thoughts away and regain my composure of indifference and aloof coldness. Even though I didn't look at her, I felt the tension that emanated from her in nervous waves as she stood paralyzed like she was shocked to find me eating breakfast in my own fucking house.
"Good morning," she said in the same small, submissive voice that reminded me of the moment in the hotel when she was begging me not to hurt her.
The realization did something inexplicable to me and suddenly I couldn't stand to be in her presence. It felt like I was burnt by her very scent and I had to get away. Tossing my newspaper on the table, I stood up and stormed out of the room without exchanging a single word with my wife. I could fell Theresa's eyes following me in utter confusion of what she'd just witnessed.
***
The vicious circle of avoiding my wife during the day and suffering through incurable insomnia at night continued for weeks to come. Ever since that morning I'd seen Isabelle in the dining room, I made sure to leave as early as possible and come home sometimes hours later than usual, opting to have my dinners brought to my office or to my room. The Goliath thrived because of the extra overtime hours I'd spent working, but my private life began to suffer. Save for the few text messages and short phone calls, I hadn't seen Jared who still struggled to fix things with Amelia. I understood that now she would return his calls, but the real reconciliation was nowhere near in sight so they were forced to cancel their wedding arrangements. I wasn't happy about keeping distance from my best friends during this difficult period, but I had so many issues of my own.
The one and only person who talked to me on a daily basis was Father. Even though, I'd made it clear I wanted to be left at peace, he kept calling and inquiring how I was handling things with my new wife. In truth, he couldn't have cared less if we managed to reach some kind of common ground where we'd be able to live together like two civilized people. All he wanted were the dirty details of what he must have imagined was a very fulfilled sex life. Though I was appalled by his blunt inquiries, I knew I couldn't confess that it's been days since I'd seen, let alone touched Isabelle. Instead, I told him I was working on the matter diligently and that it was only a matter of time before she got pregnant. When he crossed the line, I'd simply told him to fuck off, but it didn't help matters nor did it stop his phone calls.
This lie would have a temporary effect of keeping Father off my back, but I knew I couldn't keep it up forever. One of these days, I'd have to sleep with Isabelle again no matter how much I wanted to avoid it. The thought filled me with a sense of dread. After what had happened on our wedding night, I couldn't bring myself to touch her and those images of blood were far from leaving my mind. It was easier to live like this and pretend that she wasn't there, but I knew the pretense would soon have to come to an end.
The voice in my head taunted me with different scenarios of her possible reactions to my desire to reassume being intimate with her. The memory of her crying and begging returned to haunt me and I didn't want to venture into a part of my consciousness that had to answer the question of what I'd do if she reacted with tears and pleading again. She wasn't a virgin anymore, but that didn't mean I'd be okay with taking her against her will. I was certain she'd been playing some kind of a game, but I couldn't discern the rules because she was so damn good in hiding her true nature from me.
At those rare times when I was at home, I'd catch glimpses of her. Unlike that first time when I'd met her at my parent's house and she was covered in make-up, now she hardly had any. I couldn't help but noticing she was beautiful in a very natural and effortless manner which was such a rare thing to see among New York women. What was more, Isabelle seemed to be introverted and—apart from the times she communicated with Anne—she kept to herself. Then, there were these other things that didn't make any sense. For one, her apparent love for literature that was so removed from the image of a greedy gold digger that was engraved in my mind to such an extent that I thought I was hallucinating when I'd seen her walk into a garden with a book in her hands. One time could have been an incident, but it happened on multiple occasions.
But what came as the biggest surprise of all was her lack of interest in my wealth. If I was certain of one thing, it was that she'd demand her own separate bank account and go out on shopping sprees to enjoy this newly discovered life of luxury as soon as she'd signed her name on our marriage certificate, but she'd done none of those things. As a matter of fact, so far she had yet to spend a dime of my money. To say that she'd confused me was an understatement. Whenever I thought she'd go one way or choose a certain thing, she did exactly the opposite.
Nevertheless, I wasn't an easy man to fool and she'd have to go through a lot more trouble if she wanted me to start biting. Despite her innocent appearance on the surface, I was certain that underneath that demure shell, there was a sinister game she played together with her conniving mother. But it looked so convincing...so goddamn genuine that I had difficulty telling myself it was all a part of her act.
If it was up to me, I'd keep my distance for as long as I could, but one night the lack of sleep took its toll on me and I'd overslept, waking up with my head on the piano. After I got ready, there was very little point in going to the company so I decided to break this unwritten rule of constant absence and work from home. The chances of Isabelle barging into my office were scarce to nonexistent so I had asked Anne to bring my breakfast there and notify the rest of the staff that I required absolute peace and quiet. I had Emily on the line when I heard a powerful bang of something hitting the ground, followed by a piercing scream. The floor beneath my feet vibrated from the force of the thump and it was so loud even Emily had heard it, asking me if everything was alright. I didn't have to leave the office to know the noise had come from the library which was situated right next to it. Agitated, I ended the call and ran outside to see what happened.
The scene that welcomed me in the library was unexpected to say the least. Isabelle was just standing there, surrounded by a pile of books on the floor, staring at the broken shelf that lay only inches away from her feet. Like a damsel in distress, she looked startled and confused as she looked at the book in her hand and then took in the mess around her like she couldn't comprehend what'd just happened. The first instinctive feeling that came to the surface was worry for her safety, but I quickly pushed it away, both surprised and angry that I should allow myself to feel anything. Instead of giving in to this ridiculous notion of offering reassurance, I chose to react with anger; refusing to allow myself to show her I harbored any softness towards her.
"Having fun?" I asked with cold detachment.
The sound of my demanding voice seemed to have made her flinch and I watched as she took in a deep breath and met my gaze. There was something in those brown eyes that bothered me. They appeared so hollow and infinitely lost that it was hard to look at them.
"I...I just wanted... wanted to get the book," she explained in a small voice, lifting the book in her hand.
For a few moments, I remained standing by the door—still distracted by her glistening stare—but then the curiosity got the best of me and I walked over to her, observing as she shrank away from me the moment I got closer. Sustaining myself from addressing her meek reaction, I snatched the book from her unsteady hand and looked at the cover. The Age of Innocence. A rush of silent fury surged through my veins as I thought about the fucking irony of it and I found myself thinking she'd done this on purpose. Lifting my gaze back to hers, I didn't bother to hide the sudden animosity at the thought that she was playing me for a fool.
"I have to say, I'm not at all impressed by your choice of reading."
The comment was meant to challenge her into starting a conversation. I wanted to get some fire out of her and see for myself that her nature wasn't so docile and innocent, but something very much different. Alas, she wouldn't play along. Instead of showing some defiance, she seemed to have pulled even more into herself and she seemed distraught like she was fighting some inner battle that I knew nothing about.
"I'm sorry you feel that way," she said in a quiet, emotionless voice.
Fuck. The tortured expression on her face suddenly made me want to close the discussion and tell her these things could happen, but I refused to relent. I had no idea what the hell she was doing to me, but I was determined to put a stop to it.
"Next time when you decide to tear down shelves to get to ridiculous books, you might want to consider the fact that all of the luxury that surrounds you didn't fall from the sky. Believe it or not, someone has to work for it. That someone is me and I don't like to be interrupted while I'm working."
It felt good to let out my frustration, but—once again—she gave the exact opposite reaction of what I'd expected. Instead of showing even the smallest trace of opposition, she looked away from me and whispered, "I understand."
So submissive. So fucking obedient. I had no more aces up my sleeve to get her to give up the pretense. Instead, she was the one who worked her spells on me. The way she kept her distance intrigued me beyond my realm of comprehension and I couldn't fight the restless need to come closer. Of its own accord, my fingers connected with her smooth skin and I lifted up her chin, forcing her to meet my eyes.
"Don't look away from me," I warned in a soft murmur when I noticed the uncertainty in her expression.
It's been weeks since I'd stood this close to her and I got hypnotized the depth of those wide hazel eyes. Slowly, that inviting, flowery scent of her golden hair invaded my senses all over again and something primal was awakened within me. It was like a sensation that hazed my mind and reason. For a split second, that same feeling I'd experienced when I lost control in the hotel took over and I had to employ all of my restraint to suppress it. In all honesty, I couldn't remember a single time when a woman made me feel this way. Unaware of my thoughts, she let out a breath that grazed my skin and my eyes fell on her parted lips. Suddenly, I was leaning even closer, devoured by the urge to claim her lips and then lay her on the ground and bury myself inside of her. Letting my hand slide down her body and close around her hip, I wondered what would be wrong with that. After all, she was my wife—she was there for the taking. It would be so easy...
But then, the awareness of her trembling and her apparent uneasiness somehow infiltrated my cloudy mind, dispersing the thoughts of lust with the swiftness of a raging tornado. Waking up from a trance, I paid closer attention to her appearance. Were those tears forming in her eyes? Was she staring at me with fear? Suddenly, I felt like somebody splashed a bucket of cold water over my head and I stepped away from her, the thought of laying even a finger on her while she looked at me like that filling me with detest. And I was scared of my own reaction because it made me realize there was a weakness I might not be able to conquer when it came to the little gold digger from Rosemont. Those tears that glistened in her eyes started inching their way out and I couldn't stand to look at her. If you witness her crying, it might just be the death of you, Sebastian.
"Relax. This is not the kind of place I would choose to fuck you," I blurted out as I l stepped away from her.
The blunt manner in which I'd spoken to her seemed to have left her appalled. Good. The last thing I wanted her to think was that my heart was warming up in her direction. Without adding another word, I turned around and left her standing there with that same expression of fear and confusion.
Walking back to my office, I took out my cell phone and dialed the fixed phone line, knowing Anne would pick up. I'd informed her about the accident in the library and asked her to check on Isabelle and arrange the necessary repairs. She seemed confused, but agreed to follow the instructions nonetheless.
I was glad to be able to return to work and I reestablished the connection with Emily, but I was still absent-minded and distracted by what took place in the library. As I discussed the points that would have to be included in negotiations for a casino complex we were building in Las Vegas, my mind kept coming back to Isabelle and the strangeness of her behavior. It was that bad that I chose to end the call and take a break so I could collect my thoughts, but the memory of the haunted look in those dark brown eyes wouldn't leave me at peace. Why the hell couldn't I just stop thinking about her? She didn't hesitate to sign a goddamn contract that would make her millions of dollars and now she was acting like she was way out of her depth. That face of an angel could have fooled anyone, but her actions spoke for themselves. No matter how much she wanted to project herself as being demure and skittish, I knew she was far removed from innocence.
A soft knock on the door disrupted my thoughts. I had no desire to talk to anybody and I contemplated on asking the person to leave, but I decided against it and asked them to enter, hoping they would make it quick. To my relief, it was only Anne and I couldn't say her visit surprised me. Whenever something happened in the house, she'd take the time to inform me about it.
"Do you have a minute, Sebastian?"
"Of course. Come in and take a seat, Anne." I gestured towards the empty chair at the other side of my desk. "Did you manage to arrange the repairman?"
She nodded her head as she took a seat across from me. "The shelf will be fixed tomorrow. There is something else I would like to talk to you about."
I arched my eyebrows, giving her my full attention because I couldn't think of anything else she'd want to discuss other than the incident in the library. She seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then she started talking.
"I've been working for your family since before you were born and you know that I've always stayed out of your problems and minded my own business, but now I feel the obligation to say something."
In all the years I'd known her, Anne had never spoken like that and it was strange enough for me to discern she was bothered by something very serious.
"What is it, Anne?" I asked, trying to stay calm.
She seemed to be very uncomfortable. "It's your wife...Isabelle."
I exhaled and leaned back on my chair, sensing this would lead to no good. "What about her?"
Anne swallowed and gave me a look filled with worry. "I understand you might be angry for having to marry her, but don't you think you are treating her too harshly?"
Despite the fact that I'd sworn to myself I'd never discuss my marriage with Anne again, I was curious about the motives that made her bring this matter to my attention.
"What makes you say that?" I asked, convinced that Isabelle told her something.
"I look at her every day, Sebastian and if things go on like this, it won't end well," Anne revealed. "She eats barely enough to keep a sparrow alive and her eyes are always swollen from crying. Whenever I talk to her, she seems to be so desperate that it breaks my heart. I hope to God that I'm wrong, but I'm scared she might hurt herself."
I swallowed and a cold shiver of awareness rushed through my system. Anne wasn't lying. I'd seen it for myself, but brushed it off, convinced it was just an act. What if Anne was right? What if it was all genuine and I was pushing Isabelle over the edge?
"Has she confided in you?" I heard myself ask in a voice that rang with traces of something one might call concern.
Anne shook her head. "No, she is very adamant in staying vague about her reasons, but she has told me she was afraid of what you'd do to her."
The expectant way in which she stared at me filled me with that same sense of disgust I'd felt after our wedding night because I understood all too well what it meant. Anne was asking if I'd planned on hurting Isabelle.
"I have barely even seen her in these past few weeks," I snapped and then composed myself, exhaling a long breath. "There is no point in pretending I hold no resentment towards Isabelle, but I'm not going to hurt her, Anne."
That might have been a lie. The truth was that I didn't want to hurt her, but I'd probably be forced to do it. This situation was becoming more fucked up every day and it was getting out of hand.
Anne nodded. "Regardless of everything, I want you to know that I can tell she is a good person."
"How can you be so sure?"
Anne smiled softly. "I know kindness when I see it. This girl doesn't have a bad bone in her body. You shouldn't take out your anger on her, Sebastian. You might regret it."
It was the last thing she'd said to me before she stood up and left my office. I remained staring after her, perplexed by this entire conversation. Despite the fact that I believed Anne was capable of finding positive traits in the devil himself, she always struck me as someone who was a good judge of character and I knew she would never defend Isabelle if she hadn't truly believed in her innocence. What could she have possibly done to make Anne warm up to her to such an extent?
As confusion that tortured me ever since I'd lay eyes on my wife reached the point I could no longer handle, I decided it was time to stop avoiding her and get to know her better. It was the only way to uncover the secrets she hid underneath that gentle, virtuous surface.