Chapter 37 The Door He Never Opens
Isabella’s POV
“Yep.”
Sarah shook her head slowly, still trying to process everything I had just told her.
“That man is confusing.”
“You’re telling me,” I said with a small laugh.
We kept talking for hours after that.
About everything.
About the wedding. About the penthouse. About how strange it felt living with a man who could go from cold and distant to unexpectedly gentle in the same breath.
At some point Sarah ordered takeout, and we ate on the couch like we used to before my life turned upside down.
For the first time in weeks, I felt normal again.
Like myself.
We were in the middle of planning a girls’ day—shopping, lunch, maybe even a spa—when Sarah suddenly glanced at the clock on the wall.
Her eyes widened.
“Isabella… it’s midnight.”
“What?” I looked over quickly.
12:03 AM.
I blinked in disbelief.
“Wow,” I said, surprised. “I didn’t even notice the time.”
Sarah studied me carefully.
“You’re not in trouble?”
I hesitated.
Then shook my head slowly.
“No.”
I had expected Alexander to call hours ago.
Demanding to know where I was.
Telling me it was time to come home.
But my phone had stayed completely silent.
Which somehow felt… strange.
“He hasn’t called?” Sarah asked.
“No.”
“Maybe that’s a good sign.”
“Maybe,” I said.
Still, it was late.
I grabbed my phone and called the driver.
He answered immediately.
“I’ll be there in ten minutes, ma’am.”
The ride back felt quiet after the warmth of Sarah’s apartment.
The city lights blurred past the window as the car moved through the streets, and for the first time that night I found myself wondering what Alexander was doing.
Whether he was home.
Whether he even noticed I was gone.
When the car pulled up to the building, the driver stepped out and opened my door.
“Good night, ma’am.”
“Good night.”
The elevator ride to the penthouse felt longer than usual.
When the doors opened, the apartment was dark.
Quiet.
Too quiet.
Alexander wasn’t home.
I slipped off my shoes and headed to the bathroom for a shower.
The warm water helped wash away the chill of the night air, and by the time I stepped out, wrapped in one of the soft robes from the closet, I still didn’t feel tired.
So I wandered into the living room and turned on the television.
A random movie started playing.
I wasn’t really watching it.
My mind kept drifting.
Back to the office earlier.
Back to the way Alexander had looked at me.
Back to the kiss.
I sighed and got up to grab a glass of water.
As I walked down the hallway—
I heard something.
A faint sound.
Like something shifting.
I stopped.
The house was silent again.
Maybe I imagined it.
Still, curiosity pulled me farther down the hallway.
I followed the direction where I thought the noise had come from.
Nothing.
Every door was closed.
Every room empty.
Just as I was about to turn around and go back—
I noticed something.
One of the doors was open.
I froze.
It was that door.
The one at the end of the hallway.
The one I had seen Alexander walk into almost every day.
The one that was always locked.
The housekeeper had told me clearly:
No one was allowed in that room.
Except Alexander.
But tonight…
The door was open.
Just slightly.
A thin strip of light spilled out across the floor.
My heart started beating faster.
He must have forgotten to lock it.
I glanced down the hallway.
Empty.
The driver had dropped me off.
The house was quiet.
Alexander wasn’t home.
I stepped closer.
Something inside me whispered that I should leave it alone.
That this was none of my business.
But another voice—louder, stronger—kept pushing.
Find out.
Slowly, I pushed the door open.
The room inside looked nothing like I expected.
Files were everywhere.
Stacks of papers spread across a large desk.
Photos pinned to boards on the walls.
My eyes moved slowly across the room.
Most of the photos were of Alexander.
But younger.
Much younger.
A child.
A teenager.
In some of them he looked bruised.
In others his arm was in a cast.
My stomach tightened.
I stepped farther into the room.
There were folders spread across the desk.
Medical reports.
I picked one up.
Broken rib.
Another.
Fractured wrist.
Another.
Severe bruising.
My chest tightened.
There were dozens of them.
Years’ worth.
Doctor reports.
Hospital visits.
Injury summaries.
All with Alexander’s name.
I felt sick.
Then I noticed the large screen mounted on the wall.
A paused video sat frozen on the display.
Curiosity pulled me closer.
My finger hesitated over the keyboard.
Then I pressed play.
The video started.
The sound was faint and distorted.
At first it was just movement.
A dark room.
Then a voice.
A man’s voice.
Angry.
“You’re useless.”
The words echoed through the speakers.
“You’re weak.”
I froze.
“You’re going to learn how to be stronger.”
There was a sharp sound.
A thud.
Then another.
Someone yelling.
Someone being hit.
My stomach twisted.
I took a step back.
And then—
I heard footsteps behind me.
My heart stopped.
Slowly… slowly… I turned around.
Alexander stood in the doorway.
He wasn’t moving.
Just standing there.
Watching me.
I had never seen him look like this before.
His face was completely blank.
No emotion.
None.
But his eyes…
His eyes were dark.
Cold.
Dangerous.
For a moment he looked less like a man—
And more like something that wanted to destroy everything in front of him