Chapter 005

Isabelle was already in the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee very early in the morning. The thought of the nightmare stole the remaining iota of sleep from her eyes. Bridget walked in a minute later to make her breakfast.

“Good morning ma,” she greeted.

“Good morning, Bridget, how are you?” Isabelle responded politely.

“I’m fine, ma. What would you like to have for breakfast?”

Isabelle, still putting up a smile, thought for a minute before answering. “Tofu Scramble Burrito,” she said, raising the cup of coffee to take a sip. “Let’s go the Mexican way,” she added.

Bridget smiled and immediately got to work.

After the breakfast, she showed her the way to Fernandez room. It was the next door after hers; the one with the sculpture of the head of a lion above its entrance door. There, Isabelle remembered the line in the contract that read, ‘you must not leave the house unsearched.’ He must’ve chosen the next room for her just to keep an eye on her.

“Did you sleep well?” The baritone voice came in as they entered. He was seating at the center leather chair in his seating room. Isabelle nodded in affirmation.

“You can excuse us now,” he said, looking at Bridget who quickly bent her knee and left the room.

“Please sit,” he said, pointing at the chair opposite him. Isabelle quietly took the seat, almost fidgeting. She stared at the beautiful artworks hung round the room, some depicting his real estate profession. 

“Where is the contract?” Fernandez said his voice deep and stern. “You were asked to come with it. Didn’t Bridget inform you that?”

Isabelle bent her head, peeling her fingers, finding the right words to explain her ordeal about the contract.

“You clearly have not read or signed it, have you?” Fernandez asked noticing the uneasiness in her expressions.

She lifted her head to look at him and then returned it to the floor. “Actually, there is something about the contract I want to talk to you about.”

Fernandez eyes narrowed and face gradually turning flushed. “And what could that be?”

Isabelle waited for some seconds before answering, trying not to send the wrong impression.

“I uh…. I’m finding it difficult to accept the condition that I must forfeit all connection to the child after 6 month of its birth. Could you please reconsider that part?” 

Just as she expected, Fernandez countenance changed immediately, dark lines swept beneath his eyes. 

“What?!” He roared like a wounded lion. The sound reverberated in Isabelle’s ears, making her to shiver. “I clearly made this known to the doctor even before the contract was submitted to her. Why are you beginning to sound like you were not informed of this?”

Isabelle went mute, words suddenly drained from her mouth. Clearly, she was told. She was aware, but the current condition then – being homeless after divorce, and the need to build a future for herself which the $400,000 can ultimately afford, she accepted the conditions without asking questions.

But his tone was mean. Couldn’t he be at least romantic in addressing the woman carrying his child?

“Go freshen up. You’re accompanying me to a fund raising event this morning as my wife,” he said with a commanding voice. “You can sign the contract when we return.”

Isabelle was still seated, thinking about his respond to her request while he stood up to leave through the next door connected to the seating room. He turned and noticed Isabelle hadn’t moved an inch.

“We don’t have to be late. Go get ready,” he said again with a wave of hand but in a low tone this time. 

Isabelle stood to leave; she was halted by his voice again. “Bridget will bring you some dresses in a minute. Make your choice out of them.”

**

The Goldberg Event Centre was filled with dignitaries from high places, chatting and exchanging pleasantries. Isabelle and Fernandez entered with all eyes on them, asking who the strange woman with him was. Flashes of light from the cameras fell on them continuously like drops of rain.

A waitress on black skirt and white top smiled at them and showed them to their seat. On the table, where two different expensive wines and two glasses of wine. Few minutes after they were seated, Fernandez phone rang and he excused himself to pick the call. 

Unexpectedly, Isabelle’s gaze caught a lady on red dress, her lips painted carefully with faint red color. Her legs were long and seductive, holding the hips no man would ever resist. She held a glass of red wine on one hand while chatting with a guest.

Isabelle’s eyes narrowed in shock. What could Alison be doing in a fund raising event alone? Morris was obviously not in sight.

Immediately their gaze met, Alison caught the shock too, but hers was mixed with rage. She moved to Isabelle’s seat angrily.

“Are you stalking me, bitch?” Alison thundered, waving her hand angrily. She observed the diamond necklace and earrings Isabelle wore and the expensive dress.

“Have you suddenly started stealing too?” She added mockingly. 

Isabelle was boiling inside of her, but didn’t utter a word. She maintained her composure and just stared at the barking lady. This made Alison angry the more. Seeing Isabelle there made her think she was stalking her which inspired the confrontation.

Alison’s voice attracted the attention of the guests close by. Fernandez was far from sight, so he unaware of the hyena about to swallow his wife.

Alison drew close to Isabelle, dragged her up with her left hand. “Am I not talking you, bitch?”

Isabelle raised her right hand to the air and the next thing, it landed on Alison’s cheek with a reverberating sound that send stars to Alison’s eyes. Alison took a minute to regain consciousness.

“How dare you raise your filthy hand on me? You have temerity to slap me?” She yelled. In a twinkle of an eye, Morris appeared from the crowd, his eyes widened upon seeing Isabelle. The appearance of Morris was like strength and courage was pumped into Alison. 

She raised her hand in the air to return the slap. Immediately, her hand was held still in the air by a stranger behind her with an intimidating frame. 

“Don’t even try it, except you want this to be the last time you’d use it,” Fernandez thundered emphatically as he let go of her hand effortlessly.

Questions began to pop up from all angles.

“Who’s the strange woman with Mr. Fernandez?” It was obvious to them that Mr. Fernandez barely walk with a woman except for business concerns. But this time seemed different.

Even the journalists present were asking the same question.

Fernandez moved close to Isabelle, smiled at her and cupped her hand into his. Isabelle was thrilled. It was the first time since she arrived in his life he could look into her eyes so passionately. 

“She’s my wife,” Fernandez said, with his baritone, stern and unyielding.