Chapter 8 - Richard
I watch Belle eat like it's the most fascinating thing I've ever seen.
We're in the kitchen now, and she's perched on one of the bar stools at the island, wearing one of my t-shirts that hangs to mid-thigh, her damp hair falling around her shoulders.
Mrs. Annie prepared a late lunch: grilled chicken, roasted vegetables, fresh bread.
Simple, nutritious, exactly what Belle needs.
"When did you last eat?" I ask, watching her take another bite of chicken.
She pauses, thinking. "Last night." She makes a face. "But I couldn't finish it. My stomach was in knots."
"Understandable, given what you had just done." I lean against the counter opposite her, nursing a cup of coffee.
A small smile plays at her lips. "Best decision I ever made. Running, I mean."
"Second best." I can't help the possessive edge that creeps into my voice. "Coming here was the best."
She blushes, and I watch the color spread down her neck, disappearing under the collar of my shirt. My mark is visible just above that collar, a dark bruise where I sucked on her throat while buried inside her.
Mine. She's mine now, marked inside and out.
"We need to talk about practicalities," I say, forcing myself to focus on logistics instead of the urge to carry her back to my bedroom and spend the rest of the day proving exactly how thoroughly she belongs to me.
Belle sets down her fork, her expression growing serious. "Nathan."
"Nathan," I confirm. "And Victoria. They're going to come looking for you eventually. Probably sooner rather than later. We need to be prepared."
"What can they actually do?" She wraps her arms around herself, suddenly looking vulnerable despite being in my kitchen, wearing my clothes, still smelling like my soap. "I mean, legally. I didn't marry him. I'm an adult. I can go where I want."
"Legally, you're right. They have no claim on you." I set down my coffee cup and move around the island to stand beside her. "But Nathan doesn't care about legalities. He cares about possession and control. You embarrassed him, damaged his ego. He's not going to let that go easily."
"So, what do we do?"
"First, we get you a lawyer. A good one." I tick items off on my fingers. "Someone who specializes in domestic abuse cases, restraining orders, that kind of thing. I have contacts. I'll make calls this afternoon."
Belle nods, listening intently.
"Second, we secure your finances. Do you have access to your bank accounts?"
"I... I'm not sure. Nathan handled most of the money. I have a debit card, but he monitored everything I spent."
Of course he did. "We'll get you set up with new accounts, completely separate from anything Nathan has access to. Transfer any money that's legally yours. Make sure he can't freeze you out financially."
"I don't have much. Maybe a few thousand from before we moved in together."
"That's yours. We'll protect it." I pause, considering my next words. "And I'm going to set up an account for you. Money you can access anytime, no questions asked. Not a loan, a gift. Insurance, so you're never dependent on anyone again."
"Richard, I can't accept—"
"Yes, you can." I cut her off gently but firmly. "This isn't charity, Belle. This is me making sure you have options, freedom. So, you never feel trapped again."
"Why are you doing all this? You barely know me."
"I know enough." I turn her bar stool so she's facing me, stepping between her legs.
"I know you're smart, kind, resilient. I know you survived two years of hell and still came out with your humanity intact.
I know Nathan tried to break you and failed.
" I cup her face with both hands. "And I know that watching you marry him would have destroyed me.
So yeah, I'm invested in making sure you're safe, protected, free to build whatever life you want. "
"Even if that life includes you?" Her voice is small, uncertain. "Even though this is complicated and probably a terrible idea?"
"Especially if it includes me." I lean down, kissing her. "I'm not letting you go, Belle. I meant what I said earlier. You're mine now. And I protect what's mine."
"Even from your own son?"
"Especially from him." The words come out harder than I intend. "I’ve told you. Nathan stopped being my son the moment he put his hands on you. Whatever relationship we had, or could have had, died then. There's no coming back from that."
Belle's eyes search my face. "Do you really mean that? Because when he shows up, and he will show up, it's going to get ugly. He's going to say terrible things, try to manipulate you. Are you prepared for that?"
I think about Nathan. About the boy I raised until Victoria poisoned him against me. About the monster he became—charming in public, cruel in private. About the way he looked at Belle like she was a possession to be owned rather than a person to be cherished.
"I'll fight hell itself if that's what it takes to protect you," I say, and I mean every word.
"Nathan, Victoria, anyone else who tries to take you from me.
I have money, resources, connections. I've built an empire from nothing.
Protecting one woman from my sociopathic son is well within my capabilities. "
"Your sociopathic son must already know where you live. He probably figured out I came here, too."
"Let him come." I'm surprised by how calm I sound. "This property is secure. He can't get past the gates without my permission. And if he tries..." I trail off, considering. "Marcus has very specific protocols for uninvited guests."
"Richard." Belle grabs my hand. "I don't want you to have to choose between me and your son."
"There's no choice to make. I chose you the moment you showed up at my gate. Before that, even." I squeeze her hand. "I chose you two years ago when I first saw what he was doing and tried to intervene. This is just me following through on that choice."
She's quiet for a long moment, processing. Then she takes a shaky breath. "Okay. So, we lawyer up, secure my finances, and wait for the inevitable confrontation."
"Essentially, yes."
"And when that confrontation happens? When Nathan shows up demanding I come back?"
I pull her off the stool and into my arms, feeling her soft body press against mine. "Then he learns that some things, once lost, can never be reclaimed. That you're not his anymore, you're mine. And that I'm not the kind of man who gives up what's his without a fight."
She burrows into my chest, and I feel her take a deep breath. "I'm scared."
"I know. But you're safe here. I promise you that."
"What if he tries to hurt you?"
The question surprises me. "Belle, I'm twice his age and I have an entire security team. He's not going to hurt me."
"He's unpredictable. Violent. When he doesn't get his way—"
"Then he'll learn what real violence looks like." The words come out cold, harsh. "I've spent my entire adult life being civilized, playing by the rules. But if Nathan threatens you? All of that goes out the window. I'll do whatever it takes."
Belle pulls back to look at me, and there's something like awe in her expression. "You really mean that."
"Every word."
She kisses me then, and when we finally break apart, both breathing hard, she says, "Take me to bed. Properly this time. I want to fall asleep in your arms and wake up knowing this is real."
How can I refuse that?
One Week Later
The call comes from Marcus at eleven in the morning.
"Sir, we have visitors at the main gate. Nathan Kane and Victoria. They're demanding entry."
I've been expecting this. Dreading it but expecting it. Still, hearing that Nathan is actually here, actually trying to get to Belle, sends cold fury through my veins.
"Let them in." My voice is calm. "Escort them to the main house. I'll meet them at the entrance."
"Sir, are you sure—"
"Let them in, Marcus. It's time we settled this."
I end the call and go to find Belle. She's in the living room, curled up on the couch with one of those mystery novels she loves. She's been reading constantly this past week, making up for two years of Nathan telling her what she should and shouldn't read.
She looks up when I enter and immediately sees my expression. "He's here."
It's not a question. She's been waiting for this too.
"Both of them. Nathan and Victoria. They're coming up the drive now."
Belle sets down her book with trembling hands. "What do we do?"
"We face them." I hold out my hand. "Together. You don't have to do this alone, Belle. I'm right here."
She takes my hand, standing, and I feel her fingers shake in mine. "I'm terrified."
"I know. But remember, he has no power here. This is my property, my rules. And you're under my protection." I pull her close, kissing her forehead. "No one is taking you anywhere you don't want to go. Understood?"
She nods against my chest. "Understood."
We walk to the entrance together. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I can see the black SUV pulling up, one of Marcus's team driving, Nathan and Victoria in the back. Marcus himself is following in a second vehicle, along with two other security guards.
Good. Witnesses.
The SUV stops, and Nathan gets out first. He's dressed impeccably as always—designer suit, perfectly styled hair, the picture of young wealth and success. But I can see the fury in his eyes even from here, the barely contained rage.
Victoria follows, equally polished, her expression cold and calculating.
I open the door and step out, Belle beside me. My hand finds the small of her back, a claiming gesture, possessive and unmistakable. Nathan's eyes zero in on the contact, and I watch his face contort with rage.
"You fucking bastard," he spits, starting up the steps. "I should have known. All that concern about abuse, about protecting her, you just wanted her for yourself."
"Nathan." I keep my voice level. "This is private property. You're here as my guest. I suggest you remember that."
"Guest?" He laughs, sharp and bitter. "You steal my fiancée and expect me to play nice?"
"I didn't steal anything. Belle made her own choice."