“I-I’m sorry if she’s not what you expect, but I’m sure she’d even be more obedient. I know she might not be your type, but feel free to do with her as you please. Force her to dye her hair blonde, make her ditch those stupid glasses—whatever it takes.She’ll stay in the background and never embarrass you. She hasn’t been with many men so—”
“Enough.” The way he commodifies her, like she’s a faulty piece of hardware rather than his own blood, scrapes at my eardrums. Even worse is the way he treats her like a consolation prize, a cheap substitute for the daughter who actually had the spine to run.
He clears his throat, forcing a smile.
“We’re done here,” I deadpan.
He looks like he wants to say more, or rather expects me to say more, but I simply return my attention to the paperwork before me. The alliance is all that matters, and I care less about which of the sisters I’m married to. But—
“Dean,” I call out and he stops at the doorway, turning to meet my eyes. “I hate surprises.”
The look in his eyes tells me he understands. No decision must be carried out without my knowledge… ever again.
Chapter three
Isabella
I instinctively tug the blanket to my body as a knock sounds on the door. Mornings were usually different in Father’s house. I wonder what this mansion holds for me.
Releasing a shaky breath, I get up from the bed and walk to the door, then gently twist the knob open.
A young maid with short dark hair, pale skin, and bright grey eyes stares back at me.
“Good morning, ma’am,” she greets, head bowed down, and I step aside for her to enter.
Before I can respond, she heads straight to the walk-in closet at the far corner of the room without meeting my gaze.
“Good morning,” I utter, my response almost as quiet as hers, but her focus barely shifts. “What is your name?” Silence meets me as she continues to rifle through the huge wardrobe, her shoulders stiff with …apprehension?
I lean forward to take a better look at what she’s doing and realize she has several bags of clothes with her.
“The master wants you to be well-dressed at all times and said you should only wear these clothes.” Again, her attention seems to be anywhere but on me.
“Don’t I have enough rules to follow?” I grumble under my breath with a frown on my face. The maid quickly adjusts to the side to give me room as I approach the closet.
Silks, chiffon, and unknown materials with designer labels greet my vision. Wow.
Dominic might not be aware of the kind of life I lived back home—that I had to settle for scraps while Elena got the finest things—and I wasn’t about to show him I’m impressed by the littlematerialthings. Although I sense his intention for this benevolent gesture tilts more toward control than impressing me.
Ugh. That asshole and his stupid rules! Or how he talks like he owns the world!
A frown tugs my lips as I remember our conversation yesterday. I felt defeated, as usual. But the surge of pride I felt while I slept last night was second to none. I talked back.
“Is there anything else you would like me to do for you, ma’am?” The maid’s voice jolts me back to the present. I take in her shaky hands as her head remains bowed out of fear.
It reminds me of my life at the mansion. Of the time when silence meant survival. The few times I talked back, Dad would threaten to cut me off, throw me out, or humiliate me, so I had no choice but to bury my defiance and act accordingly.
“Maybe a bath and something to eat?” I say gently. She nods quickly and disappears into the adjoining chamber where the bathroom is.
I walk into the bedroom and plop onto the king sized bed.
But here? There’s no leverage. No family ties for Dominic to dangle over my head. Both father and Dominic are hell. Fuck. Dominic’s hell burns even hotter, but in this fire, I feel like I have the strength to get out.
Maybe because Dominic doesn’t shove worthlessness in my face… yet.
And maybe that’s why I finally talked back.
As I wait for the maid to finish up in the bathroom, another knock sounds on the door. My heart races. At home, knocks usually meant trouble.
