Chapter 15 Isabella
Chapter fifteen
Isabella
Dominic hasn’t spoken more than six words to me in the last two weeks. It doesn’t help that I barely see him. He leaves before I wake up, returns long after I’ve gone to bed, and on the rare occasions I catch a glimpse of him, he looks straight through me like I’m part of the furniture.
Three days ago, I forced myself to approach him during breakfast. I’d woken up earlier than usual just to catch him before he disappeared for the day. I’d wanted to thank him for standing up for me. It was the polite thing to do. Nothing else.
But when I spoke, he didn’t even spare me a glance. He said six words that have burned into my brain ever since.
I didn’t do it for you.
The memory makes me cringe. At the time, the words felt like a punch to the gut, and I’d stood there, feeling like a fucking fool. I wanted to scream at him, to demand why he had to be so cruel when I’d done nothing but try to show my gratitude. Instead, I walked back to my room.
Now, I don’t even know what to feel. Anger, yes, but my chest tightens with something else whenever I think of him...something I can’t name.
The door to the library opens, and Sharon walks in. She hands me a folded note. “From Master.”
I unfold it, my brows knitting together as I read the note.
Meet me at La Terrazza in three hours. ~Dom.
Why does he want to see me?
“The Boss said it’s an important event so we need to go shopping, followed by a session with Miss Anna, the stylist who did your hair and makeup the last time for the Black Rose Gala.”
Something in me wants to disobey, but Sharon looks like her life is on the line so I let it be.
***
Now I’m dressed in a long, sleeveless lilac gown, makeup done, and hair styled in a curled ponytail. La Terrazza is located on the hillside, overlooking the city. As I enter, even without my glasses, I see strings of golden lights crisscross above the tables, giving the place an enchanting vibe.
Dominic stands at the far end of the room, surrounded by a small circle of suited men. He looks exquisite in his charcoal suit, hand gesturing as he speaks. My heart leaps. I shouldn’t be this affected, but I am.
As if sensing me, his head turns. Our eyes lock across the crowd. To my surprise, his expression softens into a wide, easy smile, and it makes the butterflies in my stomach take flight all at once. But then I remember. Of course, we’re in public and have to act like…a newly married couple.
He murmurs something to the men, and they all glance at me. Heat rushes to my face. I give a small, awkward wave that I instantly regret.
Come on Bella, you look good so you should probably act like it.
Dominic crooks a finger, beckoning me closer, and I do my best to hold my head high, though the act somehow makes me feel like an imposter.
“Mr. Grimaldi,” Dominic says smoothly as I approach, his hand finding the small of my back. “I don’t think you’ve met my wife.”
Mr. Grimaldi turns toward me. He’s older, late sixties maybe, but carries himself with an upright dignity that makes him seem unyielding. When his eyes land on me, I feel as if I’ve been put under a microscope.
“She’s absolutely stunning,” Mr. Grimaldi says warmly, clasping my hands in his. “The papers didn’t do her justice.”
Stunning? He must be even more blind than I am without my glasses.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Grimaldi,” I manage, forcing a polite smile.
He pulls me into a grandfatherly hug, smelling faintly of sandalwood.
“From the moment I met her, I knew she was everything,” Dominic says, his voice thick with a warmth I know is fake. “I can’t imagine my life without her.”
My chest tightens. He’s lying. I know he’s lying, but he says it with such conviction that for a dangerous moment, I almost believe it.
Mr. Grimaldi’s eyes warm, crinkling at the corners as he pulls back. “A man who values family is a man who builds wisely.”
Dominic’s hand presses gently at my waist, and his fingertip draws slow circles against my skin, sending a treacherous shiver down my body. “My wife is my foundation. Every decision I make, I make with her in mind.”
The men nod approvingly, clearly charmed by his performance. And that’s all this is. A performance. I remind myself of that as Dominic excuses us and guides me away. I don’t know how to feel. Used, certainly. But I shove the thought deep down before it can root.
We’re halfway toward the bar when a voice calls out his name.
“It really is you, Dom. I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me.” A loud, pitched voice, almost the same as Elena’s, strikes my ears.
I swivel my head to see a blonde woman walking toward us. Her beauty is the kind that silences a room. Long legs, curves in all the right places, a smile that belongs on billboards.
Dominic turns, then his expression hardens, eyes narrowing with a sharpness I thought was only reserved for me.
“Aren’t you going to hug me?” she teases, her accent lilting with a faint British twang. “Or ask how I’ve been doing? Have you forgotten me so soon?”
Dominic’s jaw flexes. “I don’t have time for your games, Sabrina.”
She huffs, adjusting the sleeves of her well-tailored suit gown.
They seem to share some sort of history and jealousy uncoils in my stomach, whispering that this woman belongs in his world far more than I ever could.
He doesn’t spare her another glance.
Her ponytail bounces softly as she tsks, shaking her head. “Oh, my. My manners are terrible.” She extends a manicured hand, her lips stretching into something I know is a fake smile. “I’m Sabrina.”
I’m sure I’ve seen her before.
“I get that look a lot,” she purrs as if reading my thoughts. “Yes, I won the International Vogue Icon Contest last year.”
Dominic hisses and tugs me in the opposite direction, but for some stupid reason, I stay and even take her hand.
“Nice to meet you, Sabrina,” I murmur, just enough to hide the constriction in my throat.
Her smile drops. “Is it? Most women would feel insecure standing next to me. Especially when their husband has a history of… finer taste.”
My stomach knots. Dominic slips his hand to my waist, and his hold tightens.
“Leave, Sabrina,” he grits out in a warning tone.
I hold my breath as she flicks her gaze to Dominic, a vivid expression of anger and hurt in her eyes. When she slides her gaze back to me, it’s with an all too familiar expression of disgust.
“Dominic always had the best. Models. Actresses. Women that men would kill to touch. And now…” My breath quakes as she eyes me, a mocking smile on her lips. “Now he’s married to some basic girl who looks like she’s trying too hard to fit into those categories? I almost didn’t believe it.”
In an instant, Dominic steps forward and clasps his hand tightly around the model’s arm. She winces, but Dominic doesn’t let go. “I said leave.”
She frowns, yanks her arm from his grip, and steps back, heat blazing in her eyes as she stares at him. “I wonder…is that how much you’re afraid of falling in love? You had to settle for a wannabe?” She shoots me a pitiful stare.
The words hit my chest like a bullet. In an instant, I’m a child again, standing small and trembling as my stepmother’s voice cuts into me.
“No one will ever love a girl like you. Not with that hair. Not with that skin. You’ll always be invisible, ugly and everything Elena is not.”
My vision blurs. The air is suddenly too heavy, pressing in on my lungs. I stumble back, shaking my head, muttering something I can’t even hear. And then I turn and run before the walls close in completely.
I slam through the restroom door, gripping the porcelain sink so hard my knuckles whiten. My chest heaves in shallow bursts. I can’t breathe. Sabrina’s voice still echoes in my skull, merging with the ghosts of my stepmother’s cruelty.
The door bursts open. I don’t need to turn to know it’s Dominic. His presence fills the space like a storm waiting to rage. “Isabella.”
“Don’t—” My voice cracks, shame burning through me. “Just don’t, okay?” I don’t have it in me to put up with his cruelty. One more hit and I don’t know if I’ll survive.
He moves toward me, fingers clenched into fists by his side.
“Just go away,” my voice is pleading as tears burn my eyes.
His hand clamps my chin, tilting my face to his. “Don’t believe her.”
“She—she called me a basic…wannabe…” I shut my eyes, unable to look at him as the words rip out of me.
And of course she’s right. “That’s all I’ve ever been.
My stepmother—she used to say the same things.
That I would always be unwanted…” I hate myself for breaking down, especially in front of him.
I hate myself for being the ugly, pathetic bitch that I am.
“So tell me…” Tears wet my cheeks. “How can I not believe her when she called me all the things I’ve been called all my life?”
“Look at me,” he growls.
When my eyes lock with his, the room stops spinning. “They’ll fucking regret—”
“No!” My voice comes out louder than intended. “You don’t understand anything!”
The muscle in his jaw ticks, but he says nothing. “You live above everyone else. No one even dares to breathe wrongly near you. You’re feared… respected. But me…” My voice cracks, and a sob escapes from my lips. “I’m the trash. I’m a nobody.”
Always have been, always will be. My legs give up, and I fall to the ground, burying my face in my hands as hot tears spill out. I’ll never be good enough, never be worthy enough to be loved. I’m too pathetic and weak.
He crouches down next to me, his thumb stroking my jaw tenderly.
“Dom…” It comes out as a plea, though I don’t know if I’m begging him to leave or to keep touching me. He chooses for me.
His mouth crashes onto mine, rough and consuming, tasting of fury and want.
I grip his shirt as he lifts me onto the sink.
The marble counter bites into the back of my thighs as Dominic spreads me wide, stepping in until the heat of him consumes the small space between us. His hand fists the back of my neck.
“Say you’re unwanted again,” he growls against my lips, breath hot and uneven. “I dare you. I’ll fuck the lie out of you.”
His belt clinks open, and my pulse jumps as he frees himself.
“On your knees.”
The command leaves no room for hesitation. I slide down from the counter, palms flat on the cool porcelain as I sink before him. His hand tangles in my hair, dragging my head back until I meet his stare.
“Open that pretty mouth.”
My lips part instinctively and he drives into me, thick heat stretching my throat. I gag, tears spilling from my eyes, but his groan vibrates through me. He holds my head still, fucking my mouth, each thrust rough and deep.
“Look at you,” his ragged breath breaks his voice. “On your knees like you were made for it. You think any man wouldn’t kill to have you like this?”
My shame transforms into hunger, and I take him deeper, hollowing my cheeks, and swallowing him down until my throat tightens around him.
“Fuck!” He yanks me up, spit and tears glistening on my chin as I stumble against the counter.
“You think I’d waste myself anywhere but inside your sweet pussy?
” His hands fist in my dress, shoving it up past my hips.
In one swift movement, he rips my panties off, tucking the torn fabric into his pocket.
“I liked that pair,” I whisper.
“I like you without them,” he growls against my ear, one hand wrapping tight around my throat. “Look at the mirror, Princess. I want you to see what you do to me.”
He holds my gaze through the mirror, panting in my ears, eyes laced with desire, but I look at myself. My mascara is smudged, lips swollen and wet from him. My dress is half hanging off, straps slipping from my shoulders. I look wrecked already, ruined before he’s even inside me.
He bends me over, my ass rising in the air as the swollen head of his cock drags along my folds.
“What do you say, little wife?”
“Please,” I gasp, voice breaking.
“No, say you’re wanted.”
“Please, Dom—”
I hate how easily the word spills from my lips. I should despise him—I do despise him, but every time he touches me, my heart swells with something that terrifies me because it feels more like longing than loathing.
His gaze pins me through the mirror as he grips my hips.
“Say it.”
“I’m wanted.” I moan. Then he guides himself into me. The slow stretch tears a moan from my throat, and my body bows to him instantly.
He doesn’t give me time to adjust. His thrusts build quickly, pounding faster and harder into me. “Mine,” he snarls, eyes wild.
My scream bounces off the walls, and a thought hits me. Someone could walk in and see him buried deep inside me. Yet the risk of being caught doesn’t mortify me. Instead, it drenches me, making me clench tighter around him.
His palm presses firmly between my shoulder blades, keeping me exactly where he wants me as he drives into me again and again.
“You’ll never belong to anyone else. Say it.”
“I’m yours,” I choke out.
“Louder.”
“I’m yours!” The admission terrifies me because it’s true. Dominic owns my body in a way no man ever has or will, and if I’m not careful, it may not be the only part of me he’ll own.
The pleasure builds unbearably, stealing my breath until it detonates through me, my body convulsing and clenching tight around him. His thrusts grow ragged, and a guttural sound escapes from his lips as he spills inside me.
For a moment, the only sound is our breathing. My body trembles against the counter, while his chest presses into my back.
His lips brush my ear, voice soft. “You are wanted, Princess,” he whispers. “More than you know. You’re mine. And I’ll put you on your knees a thousand times, to show you what you do to me, if that’s what it takes to make you believe it.”