It had been a week since I arrived here, and the days seemed to stretch on endlessly, each one more suffocating than the last. Clyde had wasted no time in making his intentions clear—he wanted me to marry him. I hadn’t said yes, not immediately. But how could I outright refuse when the truth had come crashing down on me like a tidal wave? My father, ruthless and unyielding, was hell-bent on destroying Carmine, all because of me. The thought of Carmine fighting a battle he hadn't asked for, one he was drawn into just because he cared for me, twisted my insides with guilt. Every day I spent here, isolated and under Clyde's watchful eye, only amplified the helplessness gnawing at me. And now, as I lay on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, the weight of everything pressed down on me. The evening light filtered through the curtains, casting long shadows across the room. This was the time when Clyde and I were supposed to have dinner together, a routine that had quickly become a daily rit
It was strange, almost intoxicating, to be viewed this way. When I walked through the corridors, I felt the weight of their gazes, but it was different from what I had grown used to. Instead of judgment or pity, there was a quiet reverence in their eyes. They looked at me not just as a guest or a burden to be tolerated, but as someone who mattered, someone who held a place of importance in their world. I knew why, of course. Clyde had made sure they saw me this way. He had woven this narrative where I wasn’t just Isabella, but the woman who would soon stand beside him. It was a role he had crafted carefully, one that came with privileges I was only beginning to understand. And even though I knew this respect was born out of his influence, it didn’t stop me from feeling its allure. In this house, under Clyde’s roof, I was no longer an outsider looking in. I was someone of significance, and that feeling was both empowering and disconcerting. As I walked towards the hall, where Clyde wa
Clyde’s smirk faded slightly as he listened, his eyes studying me with a new intensity. I could see the gears turning in his mind, the way he was recalculating, reassessing. He hadn’t expected this from me, hadn’t expected me to stand my ground in the face of his taunts. But that was the thing about Clyde—he thrived on power plays, on challenges. “Alright,” he said finally, his voice softer now, but no less dangerous. “You’ve piqued my interest, Isabella. What’s your condition?” His question hung in the air between us, charged with a mixture of curiosity and caution. For a brief moment, I saw something in his eyes that looked almost like respect. It was fleeting, but it was there, a recognition that I wasn’t just going to be a pawn in his game. I was trying to carve out my own space, to find a way to keep a piece of myself intact in all of this. Taking a bite from my food, I gathered my thoughts, trying to steady the tumultuous emotions swirling inside me. The flavors of the meal we
Just as he turned on the screen, Carmine’s face immediately appeared, filled with concern. His brows were furrowed, his eyes wide with worry. I’d never seen him like this before, not in the two years I’ve known him. The tension in his voice was unmistakable when he asked, “Isabella, are you okay?” I was momentarily taken aback. The Carmine I knew was usually composed, often with a calm and easygoing demeanor. Yet now, he looked almost frantic, his usual confidence replaced by genuine anxiety. It was strange, seeing someone so unshakable suddenly appear so vulnerable. It took me a few seconds to process the situation, but then it hit me. For the first time, I realized that there was someone out there who truly cared about me. His concern wasn’t superficial; it wasn’t just out of politeness or obligation. No, this was real, unfiltered worry, and it was directed entirely at me. I had grown used to managing things on my own, rarely expecting anyone to be truly invested in my well-being
The pit in my stomach grew, knowing how much Carmine would be hurt by whatever Clyde was planning to say next. I could almost see it in my mind: the hope in Carmine’s eyes shattering, replaced by the raw pain of betrayal. That’s exactly what Clyde wanted—to destroy any sliver of hope either of us might have had. “Stop!” I whispered sharply, the words escaping my lips before I could even think. My voice was hoarse, strained with the effort of keeping my emotions in check. I knew shouting would only feed into his sick pleasure, so I tried to hold back the rage simmering inside me. But it was impossible to mask the desperation in my tone. Clyde’s smirk deepened, that familiar proud and taunting smile spreading across his face—the one that made my blood boil. He was reveling in this moment, thoroughly enjoying the power he held over me. He had me cornered, and he knew it. It was infuriating, knowing that no matter what I said or did, he was always one step ahead, always pulling the stri
“Babe, we’re getting married, and you’re definitely invited,” Clyde announced with sickening cheerfulness, his eyes fixed on Carmine’s expression on the screen. He was enjoying this far too much, playing up the twisted reality he’d created. He knew exactly what he was doing—pushing Carmine to the edge, making him question everything, all while I stood there helplessly caught in the middle. My hands curled into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms as I fought to keep my emotions in check. The anger simmered beneath the surface, a mix of rage and frustration that I struggled to contain. Clyde was doing this on purpose, feeding off the chaos and heartbreak he was sowing. Yet despite my efforts to stay composed, my heart pounded furiously in my chest, the guilt gnawing at me. I couldn’t bring myself to meet Carmine’s gaze. I knew if I did, I would see the pain, the confusion, the devastation that was undoubtedly etched on his face. And that would break me. How could I look h
Carmine’s voice continued to pour through the screen, filled with a fervent intensity that I could feel even through the cold glass. He was laying out his plan with a determined edge, his words laced with anger and a promise of vengeance. “I’ll find him, Isabella. I’ll make him pay for what he’s done. I’ll kill Clyde for you, I swear it.” Each declaration from Carmine was a knife twisting deeper into my heart. Here he was, declaring his intention to destroy the man who had ensnared me in this dark web of lies and threats. Carmine’s words were a powerful testament to his unwavering loyalty, his readiness to fight for me despite everything that had happened. But as I listened, I felt a pang of guilt and helplessness wash over me. I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t meet his eyes and tell him the truth. The truth that I was trapped in a twisted fate, bound to marry Clyde because of the threats hanging over my head, threats that were far beyond my control. It was a reality I couldn’t cha
“And now,” he continued, his voice laced with sarcasm and bitterness, “I don’t know what offer he dangled in front of you, but it must’ve been something big. Something worth more than your pride, more than everything you once stood for.” His words dripped with contempt, like he couldn’t even fathom what kind of deal I would strike to marry the one man I had despised for so long. “Because here you are, ready to say ‘I do’ to the person you’ve hated all this time.” His words stung, each one feeling like a slap, but I couldn’t flinch. I wouldn’t. Carmine was letting out all the anger, all the pain, that had been festering inside him, and I knew he needed to. Maybe he thought if he said it out loud, he’d understand it better. Or maybe he was hoping I’d break down, admit to some grand scheme, some ulterior motive that could explain away this madness. But I had no such answers to give him. It was clear he couldn’t reconcile the woman standing before him with the one who had once vowed to b