Chapter 13 ~ Isabella #2
Black Bishop to F8. It’s a side move, but that’s all I can think of.
Alexander narrows his eyes and leans his face closer to mine.
“When the fuck have you ever taken anything I’ve ever offered, Isabella?”
White Bishop to C5, white Bishop takes my black Knight
He walks out the door and slams it behind him, making the shelf shake. I just stand there and look up at the ceiling while shaking my head. I slowly open the door to the library and check the foyer to see if anyone else is there.
Closing the door behind me, once in the safety of my room, I strip off my jeans and t-shirt and put on my painting clothes. Safe inside my studio, I close the door behind me and, for the first time, I lock it.
Lifting the cloth covering off my painting, I let it drop to the floor and study the scene before me; it gives me hope. I hope that one day I’ll be free, just some random, normal girl out in the world living her life.
I spent the afternoon in my studio working on my piece.
It eases some of the tension, but I know there’s more to come.
I will not meet him for dinner. I don’t see the point, really.
There is enough tension between us right now, and I really don’t feel like sitting across the table from him, watching him stuff his mouth full of food as he insults me and takes away everything that means anything to me.
I’d rather stay in my room and starve. Actually, I’m quite used to it now.
Black Bishop to C5, I take his white Bishop.
I lose myself painting the second scene. For once, my mind is on something else besides this tension that always seems to exist between us. Last night I was a fool. I keep telling myself that every time this happens. This is different. This thing between us might change, but it doesn’t.
I hear a bang, a bunch of mumbled curses, and a stomping sound, followed by a heavy pounding on my studio door.
“Isabella, open the door right now before I smash the fucking thing in.”
White Knight to B3. An aggressive move Mr. Russo.
Dropping my paintbrush in the water, I slip my towel off my shoulder and clean my hands. I’d rather not open it and deal with his shit. I just want to be left alone tonight. He slams his hand on the door, making it vibrate.
“Open the fucking door Isabella or I swear to God, I’ll smash the fucker in and I won’t replace it.”
I stand up and walk the short distance to the door, turning the handle and swinging the door open, then go back to my chair, sit down, grab my wet brush, and wipe the paint off the bristles with the towel.
Every once in a while, I put it in the water and take it back out, ignoring the angry man growling at me.
Alexander is standing at the door huffing and puffing, glaring at me, his eyes silver, his fists clenched, his jaws ticking, and I know he’s just waiting to unleash.
“Dinner was an hour ago. I’ve been sitting there waiting for you to show up. I finally ate without you.”
“Good. You need to eat, but I’m not hungry.” I get up and go to the counter, turning my back to him as I wrap my painting pallet in plastic wrap.
Black Bishop to B4
“So now you’re just going to stay in your room like a fucking four-year-old and starve?”
White King to D1
I click my teeth with my tongue and look up at the ceiling. I’m trying very hard not to lose my temper. Anger is not something I feel often and I don’t enjoy arguing, but he just keeps pushing and pushing and pushing. I don’t know how much more I can take before I snap.
My tone is flat, but I mean every word. “Isn’t that what you intended? Isn’t that what obedient prisoners do? Stay where you put them?”
Black Pawn to A1. It’s a slow dance, each of us adapting, looking for a weakness.
I can hear him audibly taking a deep breath. He’s sucking up enough air to rip me a new ass.
“You are not a fucking prisoner. You’re making yourself one by locking yourself in this goddamn room day after fucking day. So, get your ass down to the dining room and have fucking dinner. It’s sitting there waiting for you getting cold.”
White pawn to A3
Finally, my anger snaps, and I can’t take it anymore. I turn on him with my hands fisted at my side, my eyebrows creased together, and I glare at him.
“Fine, you want me to eat? I’ll fucking eat!” I yell and storm past him as I exit my bedroom and walk down the hall. I can hear him yelling my name behind me, but I don’t give a shit. He wants me to eat. I’ll bloody well eat.
Black Bishop to E7
I get to the bottom of the stairs and turn towards the dining room.
Slam the door open, pulling out the chair, slamming it to the ground.
I sit down, whipping the dome off the plate and toss it across the table with a loud clang.
I grab my fork, put my napkin in my lap and just start shoving food in my face.
I can hear him storming down the stairs as his shoes echoed off the marble floor as he approaches the dining room.
The door is just swinging back as he slams it open again and it hits the wall.
He comes in and stands behind his chair at the head of the table.
His hands on his hips, glaring at me like I’m a bloody toddler.
I don’t look up at him, I just keep shoving food in my mouth, I don’t even really chew it, I just swallow.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
White pawn to A4, it’s a simple move.
My mouth is full, I mumble around it. “Nothing.”
I fork another mouthful of mashed potatoes in and swallow. Cutting the chicken into large chunks, I ram it into my mouth to the side of my cheek and chew. As I reach for the water pitcher, I swallow that and pour myself a glass. Grabbing the fork again, I stuff more mashed potatoes into my face.
I swallow and hold my gag reflex back, but if he wants me to eat? I’ll bloody well eat.
I scrape the last of the mashed potatoes and the last piece of chicken onto my fork and ram it in, chew and grab my glass of water and swallow it. The only thing I didn’t finish on my plate was the vegetables.
I wipe my mouth and toss my napkin on my plate. Tossing the fork on the table, it skitters to the other side and falls off. I stand up and look him in the eyes, saying.
“There. I fucken ate.”
Black Knight to D7. Fuck you, Mr. Russo.
I turn and head towards the door, pulling it open. Once I’m back in my room to throw this up for sure. I don’t even know if I’m going to make it to the top of the stairs and I don’t even know why I did it, but he made me so mad.
“Isabella. Stop!” He bellows after me.
I don’t. I keep going. Even though he is treating me like one, I am not a bloody dog. I make it to the second landing and grab the banister, holding my stomach. I can hear him coming up the stairs, so I just keep moving forward.
“Isabella, I said stop this instant.” He’s screaming now. His voice bounces off the hallway, and I’m pretty sure everyone in that house has heard us.
White Knight to C2.
I give him the finger over my shoulder as I head into my room and shut the door in his face.
He slams his hand on the door, which makes it shake on its hinges.
I run to the bathroom and get there just in time to get sick.
Why did I do it? I lost my temper, and, as usual, I’m paying for it now.
He needs to go to his club and stop bothering me.
My temples hurt now, and I sit back on the cold tile and hold my head. Why does everything have to end in so much anger and drama? I have every right to ask if I can keep my job. This is my bloody job? It’s not like I asked for Starbucks or a PS4? It’s my life!
I get up, go to the sink, grab a face cloth, and run it under cool water, then hold it to my forehead. There is a light knocking on the bathroom door.
“Isabella?” His voice is much softer but still angry.
I just stare at the door. What more could he want from me right now? I close my eyes and drop my head between my shoulders in exhaustion. Looking over at the door, at least he hasn’t tried to open it, so that’s something, I guess.
“Are you okay?” He softly asks. He is unbelievable, and for the very first time, I say the one thing I’ve only ever said in my head.
“Fuck off, Alexander.”
Black Knight to E6
I put the cloth on my forehead again. He’s quiet on the other side of the door.
His voice is muffled but louder now, like he’s talking through the seam.
“I have a meeting here tomorrow. I invited Anna to come for the afternoon. At dinner tonight, I was going to surprise you.”
Thank God she is coming, but I say nothing. I need answers about Helen and my bestie. I run the cold water, getting the cloth wet and slapping it on my face.
His voice is quiet, just above a whisper. “I’ll leave you alone now. I will send breakfast to your room tomorrow. I don’t think you’ll want to join me again.”
I can hear his feet moving away from the door. So I creep closer and put my ear against it, listening for the click, letting me know he’s finally gone.
Once I know he’s gone, I open the bathroom door, walk to my luggage, and pull out my pajamas. I take off my painting clothes and throw them on the floor before changing. Walking over to the bedroom door to listen. I open it, and there is no one around; the hall is empty.
Good.
Stepping over to Alex’s bedroom door, I put my ear close, but I hear nothing. I return to my room, open the closet, and take the green dress, shoes, and jewelry from the top shelf. I cautiously approach his door and test it. It’s not locked.
Perfect.
I poke my head in as it opens. He isn’t here, phew.
Stepping inside, his scent hits me. The room smells like him—vanilla and musk.
Making my way quickly to the closet, I pull the door open and my heart sinks a little.
My wedding dress is hanging beside his suit.
He kept it with him instead of giving it back to me.
Not that it matters, this thing between us will never change.