Page 32 of Our Darling Isabelle

The shampoo smells like strawberries and makes my nose wrinkle every time. I miss the citrus and spice from where I lived before. I finish my shower, slamming the water off and yanking my towel down from the hook with more force than necessary. As I glance around the bathroom, I kick the glass shower door shut behind me. White marble floors with dark oak cabinets make the white walls seem brighter, even with the gold trim around the shower and sink.

The entire place screams ‘show house’ to me and I don’t think I will ever feel like it’s my home. Shoving my arms through the sleeves of my plush robe helps though as I trudge back out for Dalia to live out her stylist dreams at the expense of my scalp.

“You would look adorable with red hair.” Dalia comments as she finishes the last touches on my two braids.

“I’m not coloring my fucking hair.” I grumble, frowning at my reflection. “What is my father like?” I ask.

“He’s very kind and patient, but also doesn’t tolerate nonsense. He won’t be too fond of your colorful language, I’m afraid.” She smiles at me through the mirror. I just nod and look away, nervousness setting in.

“Mr. Kane should be home soon. Any more questions I can answer before he gets here?” She asks.

“When can we find and kill my mother?” I asked again, just as I had every day. She ruined my life, then somehow when her screw up became something I enjoyed, she fucked it all up again. Dalia sighs, looking out the window sadly. The first time I asked, she told me not to be so cruel, so I shut the door in her face. She wasn’t very argumentative and sometimes I felt guilty, but they pissed me off and that wasn’t changing anytime soon.

“You should get dressed. He’s very excited to meet you.” She says before squeezing my shoulders and walking out of the room, pulling the door shut behind her. I fight back the urge to smash the mirror, throw all the expensive crap this mystery father had filled my room with. I only came here for three things. To keep Alec and Markus safe was the first. The other two reasons were to kill my mother and my freedom.

I never thought I’d miss my kidnappers so damn much as I do when I hear a car pulling into the large circular driveway. Especially when Aden pounds on my door and I snatch up a brush, throwing it when I say “Come in!”. The jerk tosses the door open but has stepped off to the side, expecting my temper these days. I wasn’t even sure why I was reacting like this, either.

“Isabelle, you’ve got to get a reign on that attitude.” He smiles at me, shaking his head as he walks in.

“I told you to leave me alone, Aden.” I say, defeat obvious in my tone. He sighs, sitting on the edge of my bed and crossing his arms.

“Look, I shouldn’t have said all that stuff about the Barone’s. I didn’t believe that they actually took decent care of you, kay? Figured you had Stockholm or somethin’.” He grumbles. After hearing him talk about how they’re ‘leeches poisoning their community’ when I have firsthand seen proof of the opposite, I’m still pissed.

“Maybe I have Stockholm, but I don’t feel a damn thing for you after you kidnapped me.” I spit the words, shoving past him.

“I’m going to escort you to lunch with Mr. Kane.” He says, keeping up with me. They assigned poor Aden to be my personal guard just after I screamed and threw an entire tray of food at him for running his mouth the day I woke up. As we step off the white marble staircase, I turn and run straight into a wall of a man. He’s over six feet tall with short black hair. The very first thing to hit me is the fact we look so similar. My eyes are an exact copy of his, our noses the same shape and even our rounded cheek bones.

“My little girl.” He says in a deep voice, grabbing me and crushing me in a hug. Tears well in my eyes and I fight them back, pushing away from him once the shock wears off. He sets me down and clears his throat. I notice how red his eyes are now and I’m sure mine look the same.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I imagined this moment a dozen times over when your mother told me you were alive.” He says, smiling down at me.

“What the fuck? When did she tell you I was alive?” I ask, as Vincent and Aden follow behind us. My father gives me a sharp look for my choice of words, but I just cross my arms and wait.

“Well, I think that is something we should discuss over lunch. I’m starved for some of Gretchen’s soup,” he says, leading us to the massive dining room. Just like every other room, this one is minimalistic but dripping with money. Dark oak furniture sitting on white marble floors, with pillars amongst the vast rooms. Gretchen was an incredible private chef, but each meal sent a pang of longing through my soul for Miranda’s cooking.

“Not to spoil a delicious meal, but I know you are brimming with questions for me, sweetheart. Should I start from the beginning?” Lucian asks. My father. I just nod, nervously wiping my mouth as I push my plate away.

“Your mother was the light of my life, but it didn’t take long to realize she wasn’t in love with me. We were young, and I was rebellious when my parents told me to find a ‘proper’ bride. We met during a party and I was smitten. Marlene knew exactly who I was and that alone should have been my first clue. She was in love with the power and wealth I was inheriting, and I showered her with gifts and attention. Our courting was eventually called off when I came to my senses, but she was already pregnant with you. I told her you would live with me and she could have visited. My parents and I all felt that we could give you a better life.”

“That obviously went well.” He chuckles before continuing. “She sent me falsified doctor’s reports stating that your heart had stopped. It crushed me after spending all this time terrified yet thrilled to bring you home. She took off and disappeared not long after. I pushed forward with life because I didn’t want to see her again. Nothing can replace the time we have lost because I had given up so easily, for that I am sorry.” He says sadly. I reach out and squeeze his hand awkwardly.

“She said that my father never wanted me and that I ruined her life,” I say, suppressing the pain caused by her words. My father’s jaw tightens as he looks over at Aden.

“Aden has enlightened me on some of the awful things she did to you. The situations she put you in were cruel at best. I cannot make up for the time that I lost, the times I let you down, but I will be here from this day forward.” He promises, taking my hand in his and holding it tight. I turn to glare at Aden, his eyes flicking to the silverware sitting beside my clenched fist on the table as if he knows what my next move will be.

“Did you know this entire time?” I snapped at him. He throws his hands up and takes a step back. My father lets out a boisterous laugh, shaking his head.

“She has my menace. See that, Vincent?” he says, smacking his right hand on his friend’s back where he sits next to him. Vincent chuckles, winking at me with a proud smile, but all I feel is white hot anger. Aden knew how badly I wanted a different life, how I longed for a father.

“Of course, I didn’t. Please believe me, Isabelle. Your mother changed her name. I was working there to weasel my way up and get an ear inside the Barone’s. When you disappeared, I hunted your mother down because I knew something wasn’t right. My dad came with me and the moment he saw Marlene, they recognized each other and she told us everything before we even got her in the car.” Aden grumbles, running a hand through his hair when I pick up the fork in my fist. Lucian laughs again, reaching over to pluck the silverware from my grasp.

“Those Barone’s taught you bad manners?” he asks with a twinkle in his eye.

“You don’t know them.” I snap. My dad raises his brow, but his smile doesn’t falter.

“They’ve become quite the thorn in my side,” He mumbles, and I snap my head up to look at him. He sighs and waves his hand for the kitchen staff to collect the dishes.

“The younger one hasn’t given me a day of peace asking about you.” Vincent grunts, tapping his cane on the floor.

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