Chapter Nine
Isabella
My alarm went off at dawn. Not a surprise, it always did; but today was especially painful for a lot of reasons.
I kept my groaning to myself as I breathed through the pain. My abdomen ached. My sides hurt the worst and as I sat up, twisting left and right, I wondered if he’d actually broken something this time.
He had before. Once. He brought me to a hack-job healer who put tape around my midsection and told me to take aspirin. I did. But without much food, it hurt my stomach. Never once did the healer care that my husband was the one who bruised the rib in the first place.
Mark paid cash. I didn’t fill out any forms.
I had another beating coming my way. If not for the overconsumption of booze and the distraction of his mistress the night before, I would’ve certainly blacked out from it.
All for talking to three men on a balcony. If only he knew what those men said.
And who they were to me.
I could only hope they got the message I tried to give them—before Mark killed me.
As we talked to some of his associates, he pinched my side hard, several times.
A promise of what was to come. After a long, hot shower, I dressed in my jogging pants and matching shirt for a full day of cleaning.
The catering crew cleaned up after themselves, but I would be responsible for the rest of the mess, on top of my regular chores.
Mark wasn’t up yet. Hungover, he probably wouldn’t wake up until after noon, his routine after one of his parties.
But my life went on. They said there was no rest for the wicked, but I was the best omega I could be, and it had been years since I had any real rest.
I started in the kitchen. The catering crew did the best they could, but Mark’s specifications were precise. They had no idea.
Pausing for just a moment to look out the window, I wished it would be so easy to simply walk out the front door. File for divorce. He could have the house and the cars and whatever money we had—as long as I had my freedom from him.
But my husband saw me as nothing more than his property. Another thing he would never let go of.
Last night, seeing Cash and Lyon and York, I was flooded with emotions.
If things were different, I would’ve run into their arms and let them whisk me away.
Their scent made my head fuzzy and my knees weak.
In those few minutes, my world narrowed to me and them.
No Mark. No mistress. No beatings. No lists or expectations that could never be met.
No moving goalposts. No unattainable life to upkeep.
Just me and my alphas.
One of the bodyguards passed me on his way out the door. Gave me a nod. They were no better than Mark. There were times they had front-row seats to my abuse, and they slid their sunglasses on or looked the other way.
Last night, before I collapsed into bed, I prayed to the Goddess to give me a chance. Just one moment in this hell of a life to escape. I begged her for a split second, one that would change my life forever.
Maybe I simply needed to be patient. I’d only told the alphas last night that I needed help, and I wasn’t 100 percent sure they’d received the message. Mark didn’t let me out of his sight the rest of the night. Not even to use the restroom. He asked one of his goons to wait outside.
He might never let me out of this house again.
I scrubbed and shined the marble countertops and moved to the fridge.
Every item had to be label-facing and each shelf organized.
I got that done in no time but my eyes were on the window and the glass door in between tasks.
My omega told me to stay in the kitchen. Hover near the door.
Wait for my alphas.
I had more faith in three people I’d met the day before than I ever had in Mark. Even when he was nice to me, bordering on obsessed, he wasn’t sincere. Just acting. All for show.
I’d swept and mopped the kitchen and dining area and was sliding the rugs back in place when I saw a truck pull up to the back door.
I walked over to the door and slipped on my flip-flops for no other reason than intuition. A lump formed in my throat, and I reached for the doorknob, struggling for breath after breath. Tingling started at the top of my head and trickled down until my whole body flushed with warmth.
I slapped my other hand over my mouth, muffling a whimper. The driver got out and spoke to the bodyguard. Handed over some paperwork. Whatever it was made the goon come to the door.
“Everything okay?” I choked out as he came inside.
“Paperwork to be hand delivered to the boss, ma’am.”
He left the door the door open and continued into the main part of the house. I dared to look at the driver. Cashel. From the night before.
One of my alphas.
Our eyes met. He nodded at me while opening the back door of the cab. Another whimper.
My feet made the decision for me. I scrambled in, and Cashel shut the door behind me without a word. He drove off while I held my breath and moved to the back door to watch the door as we left the place that was supposed to be home.
No one came. No alarms. No screaming. No one running out of the house.
No one saw me.
I was free.