Chapter 75

Ethan's P.O.V

My hand, strong and calloused, held Isabella's wrist in a grip that was strong and firm.

Isabella, ever the picture of a fragile, snow-white dove in the face of a storm, fought against my hold with a frantic energy that only served to further enkindle the burning wrath stewing beneath my face. Her wide, hazel eyes, generally filled with a curious spark and a teasing glint, were now wide with fear, reflecting the fear that painted her face.

"Ethan, please." she whispered, her voice a pulsing plea. "You I am sorry. you can not hurt me. I know you're... you are worried but I would noway do that again."

My face remained fixed on her, unreadable, my jaw gripped tight. I was not really angry. I was just worried she had invaded my private study. I knew Isabella's fear stemmed from a history she desperately wished to forget, a history that had left scars etched deeper than any physical crack. I knew her fear was embedded in a dark, chilling truth that she desperately tried to