2. ISABELLA

Chapter 2

ISABELLA

"Isabella?" My father's voice breaks into my foggy brain. "Honey, are you in there?"

I sit silent for a few seconds, hoping he'll go away as I teeter between a seesaw of emotions, from wanting to smash everything I can pick up in front of me, to screaming or flinging myself on the bed like an eighteenth-century maiden and weep.

As my father is still living in that era, the last option would be the more fitting one. But I'm not a fucking swoony maiden. I'm a twenty-first-century puppet whose father's been pulling her strings for twenty-one years.

My fingers touch the gold locket around my neck. It was my mother's. My father gave it to me for my sixteenth birthday. I wonder if I'd still be engaged if she were alive.

"Princess, have you fallen asleep waiting for me?" My father tries the door handle and finds the door locked. His voice is a little more panicked now. "Honey? What's going on?"

I quickly stand and move away from the door. "I'm getting dressed," I lie and bend to look at the back of my skirt. Okay, so maybe not a lie. "Give me a minute."

"Can you just throw your gown on, sweetheart?" my father calls through the door. "I need to talk to you, and I don't have much time."

About what, Dad ? I quickly find my robe and pull it on. How did you betrothed me when I was still a toddler and keep me in a glass cage so I'm chaste for my betrothed?

I unlock and open it a crack, plastering a smile on my face, hoping I don't look like one of those creepy clowns at the fair. It takes everything I have not to punch him in the face, and I settle for imagining it instead.

And thanks to my dad, I could probably kill him with one uppercut to the nose, but orange has never really been my color, and I have too much to do in my life to go to jail.

"Hey, Dad, what's up?" I stick my head out. "Are you ready to go eat? I think my stomach is about to go find its own food."

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart, but some urgent business has come up, and I have to leave for a few days." My father gives me his apologetic smile. "I have to go to New York."

"Oh!" I look at him, surprised. "What about my birthday on Saturday?"

"I'll be back for that," my father promises, leaning in to kiss my forehead. "It's a very important day for my princess, who's turning twenty-one."

And who you're marrying off to someone on the other end of a conference call's son ! I want to scream at him. But I don't. As always, I hold my tongue and let my imagination berate him instead.

Never let your opponent see your hand, Isabella. Remain calm in a storm no matter what emotions are flowing through your veins. Remember, you can deal with them later. To do that, you need to stay alive, alert, and aloof.

This might not be life or death… although, if he's marrying me off to one of his client's sons, it more than likely will be the case. This was a matter of the rest of my fucking life, and the man standing in front of me, who I looked up to, who I thought loved me, and cared for me, had just shown me his hand!

And I'm going to take a huge, big fleshy bite out of it. Fuck you, Father; you just declared war, and you don't even know it.

"Princess?" My father's brow creases as he looks at me worriedly. "Honey, have you been using those sleeping pills the doctor gave you for your exam anxiety? You look tired!"

"James only collected the prescription for me this morning," I tell him, an idea taking root in my vengeful brain. "But I'll use them tonight, I promise."

"Good." My father nods, looking at his sleek gold wristwatch. "I have to go." He kisses my forehead again. "I'm sorry about lunch, but why don't you order in for yourself and James." He winks at me. "I'm sure Genevra would appreciate not having to cook as well."

"Of course, Father," I say with a sweet smile. You bet they're going to love the meal I have planned for them tonight. "I'll get a nice meal for all of us."

"Shit," my father hisses, glancing at his watch again. "I'll call you later." He's halfway to the stairs, and he calls over his shoulder. "I love you princess."

"I love you too, Dad," I call back with another sweet smile before sliding back into my room and closing my door like an evil villain in a movie slinking into their lair.

I walk over to my dresser and pick up the bottle of sleeping pills James delivered to me this morning.

"Thank you, Doctor Bronston," I say with a satisfied smile, turning the bottle to read the label. "Don't worry, Dad, I'll definitely be using this tonight. Take two with food for a full night's sleep." Snorting, I slip them back onto my dressing table. "I guess in food is as good as with food."

Laughing evilly to myself because that's what all good villains do. Or is that maniacally? Tomato, tomahto! I shrug and tap my fingertips together. If I'm going to be an evil villain, I may as well embrace it.

While I didn't get to defy my father face to face, I can still start my little rebellion behind his back. Oh, and what a little rebellion it's going to be, and I know just how to start. My father promised conference voice man's son a virgin.

Well, that's the first thing that's going to go wrong with this little deal. Fuck, I might even jet off to Vegas tonight and get married. That would put a wrench in the works.

I can picture it now. Walking late into my own yawn fest party on the arm of a tall, handsome man. We'd walk right up to my father and his faceless dipshit partner in crime, who is standing alongside his obviously hideous son who couldn't find himself a wife.

"Hello, Dad, dipshit, and Quasimodo," I'd say, while giving the handsome hunk I've just spent the past two days fucking, a big sensuous smile. "Meet my husband." I'd pull my blood-stained bed sheet from my purse and throw it at him. "And here you go. Proof of our marriage consummation."

I snort as I find my phone and dial Stacy, wondering if getting married in two days could be done and then trying to remember how long a flight to Vegas is. Because her phone is basically super glued to her hand, she answers after the second ring.

"Bella," Stacy sings. "Did you do it? Did you speak to your father?" She pauses, but not long enough for me to talk. "Are you okay? Do you need me to come over? I have a bottle of my parent's expensive tequila."

"I'm fine," I lie, and something stops me from blurting out that my eighteen-year secret betrothal to Quasimodo is going to become official on my big day. "And, no, I didn't have a chance to talk to my father."

"No, no, no! Bella!" I can hear the frustration flowing through Stacy's voice. "Time is running out. You need to confront your father before Saturday, or you won't get another opportunity to."

Now I'm frowning again as those tiny acupuncture pin pricks stab my nerve endings, once again setting off alarm bells and making me wonder if Stacy knows about my upcoming engagement.

No! She couldn't possibly! Could she? I give my head a shake and mentally slap myself. Of course, she doesn't. I know how good Stacy is at keeping secrets from me, and let's just say she's never won a round of poker with me—ever!

"What we can do is go to Vegas, anyway!" I grin, picturing Stacy's jaw dropping to the floor like the character in the movie The Mask does, complete with popping out eyes, too.

"Are you shitting me?" Stacy asks, and I can hear her holding her breath, waiting for my answer.

"Nope," I say, my heavy heart is feeling a lot lighter. The thought of a prison break from Prison Moretti has replaced the heaviness with panty-wetting excitement as I picture a night in the daring Dark Velvet Lounge.

"My father has left for a few days, and I'm thinking it's time to explore the Velvet Lounge and its darker twin for a couple of hours before we jet off to Vegas."

"We could do that!" Stacy's voice is now filled with excitement. "Where would we leave our suitcases, though?"

"In the trunk of your car that we'll leave at the airport so we can get home quickly when we get back in the early hours of Saturday morning," I tell her. "I want to get back just in time for the yawn fest so my father won't be able to go berserk about my prison break."

"That's a great idea," Stacy says. "What time do you want to leave for the club tonight?"

"Well, I need to make sure the spy and bodyguard are preoccupied," and by that, I mean they are out for the count when I lace the lovely meals I'm about to order for them with my sleeping pills. "I'll slip out and meet you at the gates of the creepy old abandoned house across the road."

"Time, you haven't given me a time," Stacy reminds me.

"Oh, right," I glance at the clock above my door that James put there so I stop being late. "Give me three hours."

"Three hours it is then." Stacy giggles. "I can't believe we're finally doing this. Do you still have that fake ID I got you?"

"Yes, and in three hours, I'll be using it." I laugh, excitement making my belly flutter. "Do you think you could tempt Harry to come with us? I believe he's home."

"Oh!" The excitement dies from Stacy's voice. "About Harry…" she clears her throat.

My heart starts to thud again because I know Stacy is about to tell me something I'm not going to like.

"Look, Bella, you can't let this ruin our spontaneous night out and trip to Vegas. Because, trust me, there are going to be plenty of men who won't be able to keep their eyes or hands off you if that's what you want. Especially if you wear one of those new outfits we bought the other day and ditch the glasses."

"What are you trying to say, Stace?" Those fucking acupuncture pricks are back, and this time they're attacking my spine.

"Harry came home to announce his engagement to Lilly," Stacy blurts out. Her words come out so fast they sound like a machine gun opening fire in my head.

What is it with engagement announcements today? "Oh!" Is the only word that forms on my lips."Lilly?" I can't form more than one word at a time as the impact of the announcement of Harry's engagement starts to sink in—like a dagger to my heart.

"Yes, apparently my brother doesn't believe in wearing rubbers as Lilly's pregnant," Stacy tells me, not realizing that now the dagger is piercing my soul.

Lilly gets to feel Harry's soft, warm lips caress every inch of her heated skin while his long clever fingers knead her peaked breasts before slipping down her belly and into her wet pussy.

I swallow as the image of Harry's hands all over me makes me start to throb with wanting. Now all his hands will touch is that fucking bitch, Lilly.

"Bella?" Stacy's voice is soft and concerned. "Bells?"

"It's okay." I draw in a breath and straighten my shoulders. "As you said, there are plenty of dicks attached to amazing bodies and attractive faces in and about town."

"That's my girl!" Stacy says. "And you, beautiful Bella, are going to have your pick of the cream of the crop."

"I'll see you in a few hours," I hang up and stare at my phone.

That's two shocks in one afternoon. The universe is definitely telling me it's time to take control of my life and get the hell out of here and only come back when I've ruined my father's wedding plans for me.

I should've listened to Stacy years ago when she tried to get me to do this. I'd probably be in a convent, but at least I would no longer be betrothed to a nameless face because I would no longer be a valuable virgin.

I snort remembering Stacey's words when she was trying to coax me to sneak out for a night on the town:

"What's your father going to do?" Stacy asked. "Hasn't he trained you into a super soldier? I've seen you in action, and I'm sure you could take him down and then disappear without a trace—like Jason Bourne."

She wasn't far off. While the rest of the kids went off to summer camp or far-off vacations with their families to do fun and exciting things, my father took me on survival training boot camps in far-off wildernesses and frozen landscapes.

While they were sightseeing and going on Disney rides, I was scaling rock walls, playing shooting games, and learning how to disappear by blending into my surroundings.

My life was one tight training schedule from the moment I opened my eyes until just after dinner when I got some me time.

I walk to my closet and bring out the outfits Stacy and I bought the other day. My ever-present shadow disapproves of most of the sexy clothes Stacy wears and will put any item he doesn't approve of back if I choose it.

So Stacy and I came up with the switcheroo plan. I buy the standard-issue clothes my prison warden says I'm allowed to wear, and Stacy will buy her sexy-Stacy garments that are really for me. We're the same size.

Then, when we drop Stacy off, she takes my boring bag, leaving me with the clothes she bought for me right under James's nose.

I take out a few outfits and quickly pack a suitcase, which I stash in my closet, leaving the outfit I intend to wear tonight hung up in my closet.

Satisfied my plan is in action, I order the food, making sure I get Genevra and James's favorite dishes that I know they can't resist. I smile as I go downstairs to let James and Genevra know that they are in for a treat as I've ordered in.