Page 53 of The Banker

CHAPTERTWENTY

Aurelia

I closethe door behind me as quietly as I can and tiptoe into the villa. I can’t hear Isaac and I breathe a quiet sigh of relief. I round the corner into his suite and see the blanket on the floor. He’s gone. Shit. My heartrate picks up.When did he wake up? Does he know I left? Is he going to kill me?

I walk towards the sliding doors, planning to set myself up out there as though I’ve been bathing all morning. I don’t get that far. Wind whips my face as a large, powerful hand presses on my chest and rams me back against the wall. My eyes are still getting accustomed to being out of the direct sun, so all I can see is a shadow looming over me, almost crushing my collarbone. His voice is unmistakable, as is his rage.

“Where the FUCK have you been?” The growl burrows into my core and I’m so shocked I want to throw up. In close range, at several decibels higher than I’ve ever heard him, he’s terrifying. “Aurelia, ANSWER ME. Where in hell have you been?”

His eyes come into focus and in them I see weakness—my weakness. It dawns on me, slowly but surely, he thinks I can’t survive without him. A little part of my heart breaks. I thought Isaac was different but maybe he’s just another man in my life who thinks I’ll be nothing if he isn’t around. I feel suddenly, irrepressibly angry.

“It’s none of your DAMN business,” I shout back. Fear has morphed into anger.

“It is absolutely my business,” he growls. I’ve never heard this sound come out of his mouth before. It’s like I’ve unleashed something in him he wanted to keep concealed. “It’s my job to protect you. I can’t do that if I don’t know where the fuck you are.”

I try to reason. “I was FINE. I’m not a child.”

“You PAY me to make sure you’re safe, Aurelia. What the hell?” His hand is anchored against the wall and his chest lowers towards me.

“Do you speak to all your clients this way?” I ask, ducking out of his way and stomping into the kitchen. He follows.

“None of my clients fuck off somewhere without telling me. They’re more mature than that.”

Now, that hurts and I don’t give any thought to what I say next. “Are you kidding me, Isaac? You don’t know what mature is.”

“Oh I do,” he replies, bearing down on me again. “You know I do.” He raises an eyebrow, taunting me. I don’t feel like we’re talking about my safety anymore, and my young, inexperienced heart feels way out of its depth.

“Fucking fifty-year-old women does not make you mature,” I spit, not knowing where those words even came from.

He steps closer, backing me up against the counter, bringing his chest to mine. “And neither does scurrying off alone without telling your security.”

My chest rises and falls at the proximity. “My security fellasleep.”

He pauses and glares at me, and I realize what I’ve just done. He’s never going to sleep again. I mentally kick myself, hard.

He lowers his voice, controlling every word. I still feel every consonant as it lands on my face with force. “You need. To grow. Up.”

“And you need to stop comparing me to your old ladies,” I say, slowly, and with venom.

He steps back, a look of shock on his beautiful features. “I do not compare you to them.”

The widened gap between us emboldens me. “You just did.” I take a step towards him, closing it again. “Your old ladies would never do something so stupid as walk out of this villa onto a tightly secured island for all of twenty minutes, to do something extremely important to them. Only I would do something like that, because I’m just a little girl to you, aren’t I? A ridiculous little girl who can’t think for herself, and needs to have a man around her at all times in case she—shock horror—does something meaningful and important on her own? A burden you only care about because I bring money and publicity to your resort, right?”

All I’ve ever known for the last five years is how to be polite and courteous, never to say what I really think in case I offend someone who buys my records or who influences the air play on the local radio. I feel liberated, and I can’t stop.

My head cocks to one side, of its own accord. “Not for you my real breasts and ass, my buck teeth, my unhighlighted hair, my youth, my virginal image, right? You only want women who are part plastic, whose hair doesn’t move when the wind blows, whose tits don’t bounce when you fuck them over your office desk, right?”

I can’t believe these vile words are coming out of my mouth, but I feel as though I’m purging. I’m angry. Not just because he doesn’t trust me to be out of his sight for ten minutes, but because he doesn’t want me the way I want him. Ana is constantly telling me I could have any man I want, but it’s not true. I can’t have this one standing in front of me balling his hands into fists as I stand my ground.

“You only want women you can’t have. And that’s why you would never want me. Not because I’m younger, not because I’m your client, not because I pay you to keep me safe. It’s because you’re so scared of someone else abandoning you, you can’t get close to someone who has the freedom to leave.” The words are out of my mouth before I realize I’ve seriously overstepped the mark. That was cruel and uncalled for.

Isaac’s eyes narrow. “That’s not true,” he says, quietly.

“That you only want what you can’t have? Bullshit,” I spit.

“No.” He shakes his head. “That I could never want you.”

I blink, unsure if I heard right. It feels as though the air around us is burning and my world has shrunk to just two people locked in a battle of wills. I’m panting from the exertion of letting all that out. I shake my head lightly. I don’t believe him. He nods once, then an eternity passes between us.

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