Chapter 38 The Monster He Warned Me About
Isabella’s POV
“What the fuck are you doing in here?”
The words exploded through the room like a gunshot.
I flinched.
Alexander’s voice didn’t sound like his voice anymore. It was deeper, rougher, filled with a kind of fury I had never heard from him before.
“I—” My voice shook. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Who told you that you could come in here?” he snapped.
His eyes were darker than I had ever seen them. There was no warmth in them. No restraint.
Just rage.
Pure, terrifying rage.
“I didn’t know—” I tried again.
“You were told no one is allowed in this room.”
His voice was ice now.
“You were told that.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
But he didn’t look like he was listening.
He looked like something inside him had snapped.
The man standing in the doorway didn’t look like Alexander anymore.
His face was blank.
Emotionless.
But his eyes…
His eyes looked like they belonged to someone ready to destroy whatever was standing in front of him.
And suddenly I realized what I had just seen.
The video.
The medical reports.
The bruises.
The broken bones.
Someone had done that to him.
When he was a child.
Something inside my chest twisted painfully.
“Alexander…” I said softly.
“Don’t.”
The word came out like a warning.
But I took a step forward anyway.
“What happened to you—”
“Shut up.”
His voice cracked through the room like a whip.
“That wasn’t right,” I said quickly, my voice trembling but steady. “What they did to you—”
“I said shut up.”
His fists clenched at his sides.
The anger in his eyes only grew darker.
“I’m sorry,” I said again, trying to calm him. “You didn’t deserve that. No child deserves—”
“Stop talking.”
But I couldn’t.
Because now that I had seen it… I couldn’t pretend it didn’t exist.
“You were hurt,” I said quietly. “And I’m so sorry that happened to you.”
His breathing changed.
Slower.
Heavier.
More dangerous.
“Isabella,” he said in a low voice.
“Please,” I continued. “I’m not judging you. I just—”
That’s when he snapped.
In one quick movement he grabbed my wrist.
Hard.
I gasped as he yanked me toward the door.
“You were warned,” he said, dragging me out of the room.
He was walking so fast I almost tripped trying to keep up.
“Alexander—”
“Shut the fuck up.”
The words echoed through the hallway.
His grip tightened around my arm as he pulled me forward.
“You didn’t listen.”
“I was just trying to—”
“I said shut up!”
His voice thundered through the penthouse.
Fear spread through my chest.
Real fear.
“I made a mistake,” he continued coldly. “Letting you think you had freedom.”
He suddenly stopped and turned toward me.
His face was empty.
Cold.
For a terrifying moment it looked like Alexander wasn’t even there anymore.
Like something darker had taken his place.
“You wanted to see the monster,” he said quietly.
My stomach dropped.
“Now you will.”
My voice shook.
“Please… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“Trust me,” he said.
His eyes locked on mine.
“Killing you would be mercy.”
A chill ran through my entire body.
“What I’m about to do is worse.”
He grabbed my arm again and pulled me down the hallway.
The farther we walked, the darker the house seemed to become.
We reached a long corridor I had never noticed before.
The air here felt colder.
He stopped in front of a heavy metal door.
There was a screen beside it.
Without hesitation he punched in a code.
The door slid open with a low mechanical sound.
And my heart stopped.
Inside the room—
Weapons.
Knives lined the walls.
Guns arranged on racks.
Chains hung from the ceiling.
And in the center of the room…
A metal chair.
Straps attached to the arms.
Waiting.
For someone to be tied down.
My breath caught in my throat.
And suddenly I understood something terrifying.
This wasn’t just a weapons room.
It was a place meant for punishment.
Darkness swallowed the room the moment the door closed behind us.
Shadows clung to the walls. Chains hung from the ceiling. Cold metal glinted under dim overhead lights.
I instinctively tried to step back.
But Alexander’s grip tightened around my arm.
“Alexander—”
Before I could finish, he shoved me forward.
Hard.
I stumbled, barely catching myself before I fell, my breath knocked out of my lungs as I stared around the room.
It wasn’t just a weapons room.
It was built for pain.
“Alexander,” I whispered, shaking my head slowly. “Please… don’t do this.”
He didn’t answer.
He didn’t even blink.
His gaze locked onto me like a blade.
Then he moved.
Fast.
I tried to step away, but his hand shot out, grabbing me with brutal strength. His fingers felt like steel around my arm as he dragged me toward the metal chair in the center of the room.
“Alexander, wait—”
Too late.
He shoved me down into the chair.
Cold metal slammed against my back.
Before I could react, leather straps snapped tight around my wrists.
The sound echoed through the room.
My breath left me in a sharp gasp as panic exploded in my chest.
“Why?” My voice cracked. “Why are you doing this?”
My eyes burned as tears spilled down my cheeks.
But he didn’t answer.
He just stood there in front of me.
Silent.
Immovable.
A towering shadow.
His face was completely unreadable—locked behind that same cold mask he wore when he shut the world out.
But his eyes…
His eyes were chaos.
Something violent.
Something barely restrained.
“Please,” I sobbed, my wrists twisting helplessly against the restraints. “Alexander… I don’t understand. Why are you hurting me?”
Still nothing.
He stared at me like a storm ready to break.
My crying, my questions—they scraped against something buried deep inside him. Something fragile. Something he had spent his entire life crushing out of existence.
Because weakness meant pain.
His father had made sure he learned that lesson well.
Feeling anything at all meant breaking.
Slowly, he stepped closer.
His shadow swallowed the light as he loomed over me.
“You don’t get to ask why,” he said quietly.
His voice was low. Dangerous.
“You don’t get to dig.”
His hand lifted suddenly, hovering near my face.
Not touching.
Just close enough to threaten.
His fingers curled slightly, like he was debating whether to grab my throat.
“You think you can pull something out of me?” he continued. “You think you’re worth that?”
My chest heaved as I struggled against the straps.
“I’m not— I just— I didn’t mean to— please just let me go.”
“Shut up.”
The word exploded from him.
His fist slammed down on the metal armrest beside my leg.
The chair rattled violently under the impact.
I flinched hard, a broken whimper slipping from my lips as my entire body started shaking.
He leaned closer.
His face stopped inches from mine.
His breath brushed hot against my skin.
“You’re nothing,” he said coldly. “Just something I keep. A thing,” he continued, voice quieter now, more dangerous. “That I break if it steps out of line.”
My tears fell faster.
His hand lifted again.
For a second I thought he was going to hit me.
Instead, his thumb dragged roughly across my cheek, wiping away a tear.
Not gently.
“Cry all you want, Isabella,” he murmured. “It won’t change anything.”
Then he stepped away.
My heart pounded violently as I watched him walk toward the wall.
Toward the weapons.
His fingers moved slowly across the display.
Over cold metal.
Over polished steel.
Then they stopped.
Resting on the handle of a knife.
He picked it up with calm, practiced ease.
The blade caught the dim light, flashing sharp and merciless.
My breath hitched.
Alexander turned the knife slowly in his hand, his fingers brushing along the edge like he had done it a thousand times before.
Like it was familiar.
Like it was an old friend.
I sat there frozen.
My wrists burning against the restraints.
My heart slamming wildly against my ribs.
Watching him.
Waiting.
That was the worst part.
The silence. The uncertainty. The terrifying space between one heartbeat and the next.
I had no idea what he was going to do.
Alexander lifted the knife slowly, turning it in his hand so the dim light slid across the blade. The metal gleamed cold and sharp.
Deadly.
His gray eyes shifted toward me.
Dark. Unreadable. A storm building behind them.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said quietly.
His voice was low—smooth like velvet—but something poisonous lurked underneath it.
Then he started walking toward me.
Each step echoed against the concrete floor.
Heavy. Deliberate.
Closing the distance between us.
“Alexander…” My voice broke, barely more than a whisper. Tears blurred my vision again. “Please… don’t do this. I didn’t mean to—”
He stopped right in front of me.
Towering over the chair.
The knife rested calmly in his hand, steady and controlled.
“Didn’t mean to?” he repeated.
A bitter laugh slipped from him.
“You did this.”
His free hand shot out suddenly, grabbing my chin.
Rough.
His fingers tightened as he forced my head back, making sure I had no choice but to look at him.
“You push,” he said coldly. “You ask questions you shouldn’t ask.”
His thumb pressed harder against my jaw, bruising.
“You see things you were never supposed to see.”
My breath trembled.
His eyes burned into mine.
“All of this could have been avoided,” he continued quietly. “If you had just listened to me.”
His grip tightened slightly.
“If you had just done what I told you.”
I shook my head weakly, tears sliding down my temples.
“I was just trying to—”
“I don’t need your help,” he snapped.
The knife glinted inches from my face.
“I don’t need your pity.”
His jaw tightened.
“And I definitely don’t need your sympathy.”
His thumb dug harder into my jaw, forcing my face closer to his.
Up close, I could see it clearly now.
The fury.
The pain.
And something else.
Something confused.
Like part of him didn’t fully understand why he was doing this—but stopping wasn’t an option anymore.
Like anger was the only language he knew how to speak.
“I survived everything he did to me without anyone’s help,” he said quietly.
His eyes darkened.
“You think you understand me now?” he said quietly. “Because you saw a few files? Because you heard a few seconds of a recording?”
The knife shifted in his hand.
The metal glinted again.
“You don’t understand anything.”
His jaw tightened.
“Don’t worry though,” he added coldly. “I’ll fix that.”
The knife shifted slowly in his hand, the blade catching the dim light.
“It was my mistake,” he continued. “I was too soft on you.”
My heart slammed violently against my ribs.
“Alexander…” I sobbed, shaking under his grip. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop—I won’t ask anything again. I promise. I didn’t mean to see it. I didn’t mean to come in here. Please… I’m sorry.”
My voice cracked as tears spilled down my cheeks.
“I’m sorry, Alexander.”
For a moment, he just stared at me.
Then something changed in his expression.
It was subtle.
But terrifying.
His eyes sharpened suddenly, like pieces of a puzzle had just clicked into place in his mind.
Understanding flashed across his face.