ISABELLA'S POV Someone pinch me and tell me I'm dreaming. I couldn't move.I couldn't see.I could breathe, but it was hard.All I could remember were the last moments before I woke up in this unknown place.A tall man dressed in all black snatched me into the alley, despite all my struggles. I learned a bit of karate when I was a kid, and those skills helped me throughout my life.Apparently, not now.I was tossed into the back of a truck, yelling and screaming frantically. It seemed no one cared.Actually, they didn't.When we drove for over 10 miles, I realized what was happening. I was being kidnapped. I thought of my mom, my dreams, Holly, Maxwell. I thought of my life as I knew it. “Who are you!? And what do you want with me?” I yelled from the partition that separated the back of the truck and the driver's seat. The man who abducted me only smirked. “You'll find out soon, princess.” This was absolutely ridiculous.I tried reaching for my phone, and that was when I realized
ISABELLA'S POV The sentence was subtle, yet piercing. “You need to get to a hospital.” I muttered, trying to stay calm. I was already having a panic attack. My palms were jittery as hell, and I could feel my heart rate moving erratically.“So do you.” He glanced over at me, and held my chin with his free hand. I realized I had been biting my lip the whole time, and it was starting to bleed. “Where did you go?” He asked, the sentence low and aggressive. “Why didn't you let David drive you? You realize if you were with him, this wouldn't have happened.”Another wave of guilt gnawed at me. He was right, but I just couldn't risk it. So, I told him what my conscience told me.“I wanted to go swimming. Alone.” I said quietly watching his reaction. His brows rose up slightly, and he turned to look at me. He paused for a moment, and my heart pulsed with trepidation.“And so? He could've stood guard outside the facility or whatever. It's fine.” He exhaled, “Don't ever leave the house alone a
MAXWELL'S POV The last time I had to prepare actual food was around five years ago. I hadn't entered a kitchen ever since Holly became my cook.It was a crooked method of living, but when you have someone to do it, why do it yourself? I had fired Holly out of anger and annoyance that she couldn't at least keep Hannah in check.It wasn't the first time.The other time, I always ate outside. My kitchen remained untouched until my anger over her flip up had subsided, and after persuasions from my mom. Cooking just wasn't my thing.I can't believe I'm doing this.My head burned from the image of Hannah sitting in that chair, all tied up. The horrified look on her face when she saw me. The marks on her face and arms. I hated to think they touched her. I didn't care about the slightly larger than normal gash on my arm, nor how much blood I had lost. When I saw her like that, my heart burned. Like it was acid was permeating my veins, making it impossible to function.I'd find those idiots.
ISABELLA'S POV Maxwell stared at me, as if I had committed a dangerous offense. The room suddenly got colder, and all I wanted to do was run as far away from here as possible.“Fine then. You can sleep in your room.” His voice came out cold and detached. He turned towards the half eaten platter of food, running his hands through the bag. I never saw Maxwell eat fast food, so seeing him eat it now was just…odd.“Unless you wanna sleep in, shut my damn door.” He growled, not taking his eyes off the table. I stuttered slightly, caught myself, and palmed my face.I ran out of his room, with my heart pounding erratically in my chest.That was…anticlimactic. I sighed in relief, and began the slow walk towards my room. I'll try to use photographic memory so I don't get lost again.“Ah ha! Got it.” I exclaimed in relief when I found my room.I ran in, leaning against the door and sinking to my knees. The familiar solitude was welcoming, and I couldn't have asked for anything more. Maxwell ca
ARTHURInsane? It wasn't an uncommon word in my dictionary. I had been characterized with that concept since I was 12, when my classmates couldn't handle the fact that I believed in extreme torture as a form of punishment. It was part of me. Something I wouldn't change in a very, very long time.But for once in my life, I didn't feel like killing anyone.Korra, the hot gardener who apparently had an even darker agenda against Maxwell than I initially thought, made me rethink most of my life's decisions. I hated people. I loathed the thought of being around them. They were like viruses, slowly creeping into your life and upsetting the balance.The more reason I worked alone.But now….“Maxwell's schedule is pretty predictable. Every morning he leaves the house for work, and returns typically around 7pm.” Korra said, crossing her legs and dragging a cigarette. She knew her stuff. I glanced at the open paper she displayed in the middle of the shed.“And his wife?”So far, she was the o
MAXWELL'S POV Maybe, just maybe, I was too arrogant for my own good.I hated inferiority, no matter how it was portrayed. I mean, why must one person feel smaller than the other when both of you are human?The idea was absurd, and infuriated me to the point that I often acted out of context.“Sir…I..it wasn't intentional at all. He..he threatened me.” I stared at the half beaten man kneeling in the middle of my office. Gerome, one of my managers, apparently left a loophole in one of his attempts at mutiny. A few important files of the company went missing several weeks ago, but after a thorough search, they were found in one of the janitor's lockers. Turns out, they were stolen and photocopied by Gerome, and handed over to someone who he had refused to name for the last thirty minutes.He severely threatened his assistant, with warnings of returning him to his past life on the streets if he spoke a word about their escapade.The guy couldn't handle the blackmail anymore and reported
ISABELLA'S POV I didn't know how to play dress up. Never have, and probably never will.I was good at drafting dresses, skirts, shirts, basically anything wearable.I just didn't know how to wear them. Fashion was my passion, but I was good at styling others. Myself was a different ball game. I stared at the endless horde of dresses on my bed. I had taken each and every one out of my closet, hoping that I'd find the perfect one.It'd been two hours and still nothing. I couldn’t even find the red dress I bought specifically for this occasion. Talk about a good way to start a Saturday morning. Holly is so gonna kill me, wherever she is. Something told me I was gonna see her again. Maybe I could convince Maxwell to bring her back.Just maybe.My thoughts strayed to what happened this morning, and my cheeks flushed crimson immediately. Maxwell had refused to let me go, no matter how tiny my protests were. I was genuinely on the brink of losing my mind with where his hands were, when he g
MAXWELL'S POV I found a note behind the painting.‘Dear Max, it's your mother. You might find this note a little into the future, but when you do, I want you to know that your dad meant the best for you. We will be taking a trip to see your great grandma for a few days, so we won't be in contact throughout that period. Take good care of your wife.’You've got to be kidding me.I picked up my phone and called her immediately.“The number you have dialed is not reachable at the moment, please try again later.” The automated voice blared into my ears. I groaned, hanging up.Of all the times to visit great grandma, it was now. I stared at the last sentence. ‘Take good care of your wife.’ As if she could see me from the note.At least, I was trying.Speaking of which, I had to attend a wedding. I grabbed my coat and dashed out of the office. “Sir!” Janice called abruptly.“Send it to my email.” I replied, not paying her any attention.“Oh…okay.”I wasn't in the mood for any meetings and