Page 20 of Isabela

Someone with choices, who isn’t facing a slow death as my uncle sells parts of me until there’s nothing left.

Closing my eyes, I ask myself again why my parents didn’t take me with them on the car ride that killed them. Then maybe I wouldn’t be all alone in the world. I wouldn’t be here at all.

Chapter Five

GAEL

6 MONTHS LATER

I’ve been in a foul mood the last six months. Isabela Cohen is avoiding me to the point that she dropped my course all together last semester. It doesn’t matter that she aced my exam and was one of my best students despite how much she makes me insane.

I don’t even care that she’s making me look bad in front of the Society’s guardians, because I can’t get this girl to speak to me.

For the first time in ages, I care about what she has going on in her life. There's more than meets the eye to Isabela, and I want to know what the fuck her uncle is doing to her.

My ex-student isn’t shifty or lying to me because she’s allergic to telling me the truth. Instead, Isabela is deathly afraid of someone. The panic attack when I closed the door, her tear-stained face when I asked her who she was speaking to, and the bruises all point to someone hurting her.

I thought it was a boyfriend, but she admitted there wasn’t one. God, I wish I could just talk to her?—

“Gael, that’s it!” Aria yells. I’ve been brooding during dinner again. Fuck. I’m sitting across from her in our dining room, yet I feel as if I’m a million miles away.

“God, I’m sorry, Aria,” I groan, meeting her furious eyes. “I’m obsessing.”

“I can tell. You’ve been a delight the last few months,” she says in a deadpan tone. “Is this a Society thing?”

“Yeah, it is,” I sigh. “Kind of. There’s a girl the society wants me to draw into the fold for her family connections and because she’s a genius with numbers. With the right training, Isabela Cohen could help command the rise and fall of companies. However…”

“What? She sounds amazing. Why wouldn’t she want to work with you?” Aria asks.

“I may have assessed the situation badly,” I mutter. I rarely admit I’m wrong, unless it relates in some way to my wife.

“Gael,” my wife warns, leaning forward. “Tell me as much as you can.”

“She always came to class looking as if she’s a poor artist.” I scowl. “Isabela is an heiress, there’s absolutely no reason for her to dress like that. And then, as the weather started getting colder, she’s walking in without a sweater?—”

“Gael, is this really why you’re so upset? You sound… attached?” Aria looks as confused as I feel. I never get like this. My beautiful wife doesn’t even appear jealous, it’s more as if she’s trying to figure me out.

“I fucked up,” I admit. “I picked her apart repeatedly in class, gave her a hard time, and alienated her. Isabela came in looking rough last October for an exam and she said it was a car accident. Aria, I’m pretty sure she was beaten.”

Her eyes widen, as she shakes her head. “Did she tell you that?”

“She lied to me at every turn.” I shrug. “There were signs she had been beaten. Her skittishness, panic when I closed the door to my office, and split lip were only a few. Isabela was talking to someone on the phone after she told me she was leaving. She was crying when I walked over to apologize to her for coming on too strongly.”

“Why was she crying?” Aria looks worried. My lips twist as I think about my answer. I’ve been digging into her uncle’s life, and I’m finding more money in his personal accounts than he has any business having. Elijah Cohen is shifty as fuck.

“She told me she was speaking to her uncle, and that she didn’t want to be used by anyone else. Isabela told me she was more trouble than she was worth and that I should forget she existed,” I grunt. “Then she threw my card at me and the doors to the elevator closed. Since that night, Isabela has dropped my class and I haven’t been able to get her to talk to me.”

“Woah, this girl is under your skin,” Aria says, surprised. “So what’s your next step?”

“I don’t know,” I admit. “I may need to stoop to stalking, baby.”

My wife snorts, and fuck is it beautiful. “That’s hardly the worst thing you’ve ever done, my love.”

My dick hardens because she’s right. Pushing away from the table, I pull down my sweatpants to release my cock.

At home, I allow myself to be comfortable. It’s the only place anyone should ever wear sweatpants unless they’re at the gym. I was going to go for a run to get rid of this tension, but I know another way that’ll work just fine.

“Come here, brat.” I smirk as I say this, because her gaze bounces between my face and my cock as if she doesn’t know where she should look. “Crawl to me, so I can put that pretty mouth to a better use.”

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