A wave of absolute dread douses my body. The linear feeling of anxiety, fear, and suffocation had mixed all into one terrible feeling. Every nerve, every thought raged on inside me—and there was nothing I could do about it.

Being in the presence of your father's important business partner and their son would do that to you. The two men were stationed across from me and my mother in the dining hall. My father, of course sat at the head of the table with me seated at his right.

Tonight had sprung on me like an unwillingly. He'd called in his partner, James Taylor, and his son, Charles for a business dinner. Naturally, as the daughter of a very powerful man who owned half of Marley's oil supply it was a custom for me to be familiar with all of his partners and their kin.

Unfortunately, James' eldest son had his eyes locked on me. His chestnut eyes bore into my forehead with nothing but despicable delight glistening his gaze. I felt like a helpless fawn before it's predator.

I swallow thickly and look down at my lap. My clothed hands were firmly clasped together over the blue fabrics of my dress. I couldn't stop that rapturous beating of my heart.

I hated seeing that hunger in his eyes, the way he eyed me up and down as if I were dessert. It did not make me feel safe or confident. All it made me wish was shrink in my seat and hide.

"Isabella, raise your head." My father's sharp tone made my shoulders flinch. Made very muscle tense.

I dare to look at him through the folds of my lashes. His icy glare had settled upon me. His greying hair was combed neatly, even his beard. His suit was pressed and iron perfectly by our maids. He was the picture of perfection—picture of power. And that made him look all the more intimidating.

I knew I had to listen, I couldn't make a fool out of him by disrespecting his authority. Timidly, I raise my head but refused to look at Charles. I hear him hum amusingly, but made no show of it. With a satisfied grunt father turns his attention back to our guests.

"I believe it is time to address the true reason why I requested your presence tonight." His voice boomed throughout the room with so much authority. It gave my body a whole other reason to shake. "It has been a great concern of mine that my only daughter is not wedded. If this goes on her chances of gaining a good husband will be nothing but slim."

Blood rushes to my cheeks. Why was he saying such things to men who could possibly care less about my failures as a maiden? He was exposing too much information.

And to my own dislike I chose to look back at them. Either James wasn't bothered by the information or not, he made a show to look as bored as possible. Though Charles, he told a different story.

His brown hair was neatly combed to the side, his tanned skin shined underneath the chandelier. Truly, this young man was handsome. Knowing him since my sixteenth year I already knew he was the source of all the yearning of the girls in Marley.

He was desirable, rich, and charming. Anybody would be thrilled to have him seated in their dining room. But I wasn't like other girls.

I despised being in the same room as him—hated breathing the same air as he. Even hated the sound of his name slipping off someone else's tongue. He rested his chin atop his fist and smirks devilishly. My skin crawls in answer and I swallow thickly before looking away. He's enjoying this.

"James, you're probably aware of the problem at hand, yes?" My father inquires with a raised brow. "Isabella here will be turning twenty-one in two weeks. The more days that goes by the more of a disappointment she's becoming."

My heart sinks at his harsh words. Chewing the inside of my cheek I knew deep down, he was right. To everyone I came off as a disappointment. With no outstanding qualities or even the slightest desire to take over the family empire was somewhat of an outcast among the aristocrats of Marley.

After all, what wealthy child wouldn't want to run their father's empire? No one. It was everyone's desire to have it all, to rule them all—but not mine. And because of that, I was treated more like a pawn than a daughter. I never had any choices, at least none that I could remember.

Father determined everything for me while mother sat ideally by. Like how she is now. James nods considerably, his black mustache ruffles when he frowns.

"The mere fact she is not married by now is dragging the company's reputation through the mud."

"And my reputation," father adds stiffly. "Which is why I called you over and Charles" He turns his attention to him. "How would you like to be part of the Klein family?"

The beating of my heart stops and the rush of blood in my veins turns icy cold. There was this sinking feeling erupting in my chest before reaching my stomach. I wasn't sure if I heard correctly but every being of me was giving me the sense that I did.

Marriage, an arranged one at that. Was father truly deciding this? Looking back at him only
confirmed my suspicions.

To my surprise he was looking right at me, his deep blue eyes boring into my own as if challenging me to speak. His lips were set to a firm line while he squared his shoulders.

Yes, he spoke true and it was like he'd shattered glass. My thoughts, my heart, my soul. Everything was shattered by that very sentence. Suddenly the idea of breathing seemed like a difficult task.

"Father, you can't—"

"Silence!" He roars. My bones shake at the volume and by instinct I sink in my seat. "You will not bring dishonor to this family any longer! I should've married you off once you were of age! What was I thinking of prolonging this?"

"Then at least think this through!" I beg. "I—I understand my mistake, but please not like this—-"

"Not like this? Do you hear yourself Isabella? This is your duty as my daughter!"

"But—"

"Shut your mouth!" He snaps just as he slams his hands on the light oak table. "You're marrying Charles and that is final!"

The glasses of wine shudder against his force. The motion itself caused the table to vibrate, it even made my heart launch itself against my chest. It could burst out of me any moment considering how high my anxiety was coursing through me right now.

If I spoke again a slap would surely soon follow. And it won't just be a slap, once the guests departed it would be the board against my back. The mere thought made my back ache—I was still recovering from last week's session.

Defeated, I hung my head. Tears were welling at the corners of my eyes, the hands upon my lap shook violently. I didn't want this, but who would care to listen?

I was being used for my father's advancement in the business world. What say would I have if this has been my role ever since I was born? At some point everyone else continued on with their conversation as if I were never there. As if I never spoke.

As if my attempts to stop myself from crying wasn't visible. I hated dismissive I could be.

Hated how my thoughts held little to no meaning to my parents. There was a swirl of anger slowly building inside me like a small flame. I wanted to release it, throw my hands in the air and scream till they understood.

However, that simple thought suddenly became something of a sin. How could I think such things especially now? I was in the presence of my father's partner, showing such actions would be an act of incivility.

And just as he said, I can't drag his name through the mud any longer. So I distinguished that flame, pushed those thoughts at the back of my head till they were the size of dirt. I stopped any tears and forced my face to become blank.

I won't do anything. That has always been my role.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"Your behavior was an absolute embarrassment!" My father seethes with a cold glare. He whirls around and without hesitation, my head flies to the left.

I was slapped, at first there was nothing. Then there was a stinging sensation blooming at my right cheek. I was indeed horrified by the act, he didn't even allow time for me to breathe before hitting me so roughly.

We were stationed in the foyer of the mansion, five minutes haven't even passed when James and Charles departed. A sole tear escapes my eye and I mentally curse myself for showing such weakness. I hesitantly turn back my head, my body already shaking.

A little ways off my mother stood by the staircase. Her arms were crossed and her eyes narrowed. She didn't have to speak for me to know she was also angry with me.

"How dare you speak to me like that? In front of guests no less!" My father booms in rage. "If James hadn't been so desperate he would've declined the offer!"

I swallow thickly, too terrified to speak. Though I wanted to. I wanted to scream my thoughts, make them understand how wrong all of this was.

Yet, there was that leash on my voice, pulling me back from what I yearned to do. I grip the fabrics of my dress. Father shakes his head, running a wrinkly hand through his hair.

"You're so damn lucky," he grits out. "So lucky Charles is even looking your way. Such a pathetic woman as yourself should be damn grateful for this."

Grateful? Is that what I should be feeling? Should be bowing at his feet and giving him thanks? Hearing such words—hearing that name only made my heart sink and my stomach hurt. I tighten my fists to stop shaking. It didn't work.

"I—I don't want to marry Charles." I murmur, head down. Something close to an animalistic growl comes from my father. My heart pounds against my chest restlessly.

"What did you just say?" He was taunting me. Pushing me to fall into his trap so my punishment can be more severe.

I've been terrified of such things—I still am. But I knew if I didn't say this now I would regret it. I know I had to at least try. I swallow thickly, grasping at any sense of bravery I could muster. 

"I-I'm not ready for marriage, father. Especially to him."

"You insolent fool!" Father sneers. "Don't you realize how important this is? Our reputation rests on your shoulders!"

"Yes, but is marriage the answer? Father, please reconsider—-"

"Say another word and it's going to be eight lashings tonight. Not just four."

The blood in my veins stops cold. The image itself was enough for bile to rise to my throat and my face become pale. A shaky breath escapes my lips, my eyes widening in horror.

Father, however, only looked at me with such hate and rage. He wasn't going to accept anything I say, let alone let any of it slide. Whatever I express wouldn't be heard.

I was overpowered, a feeling I became accustomed to since childhood. But tonight it didn't sit well with me. My stomach churned with my insides twisting into never ending knots.

Anxiety was pulsing wildly through my veins. My thoughts spiraling out of control, I couldn't think straight. My breathing slowly becoming uneven with my chest tightening in pain.

I was suffocating. These bright gold walls were closing in on me. I could see them pushing down on me, feeling the heavy tension pressing hard against my shoulders.

I knew this feeling all too well, knew the feeling of being helpless and lost. And I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't stand feeling small and worthless.

Without another thought I twist my heel and ran past the huge double doors and down the marble steps. I heard my father scream for me to stop, but I didn't look back. Past the main gate and into the dreary night I ran underneath through the dim-lit streets.

Only the sound of my ragged breathing and the thumping of my heels echoed the streets. For a moment I knew that I was running then the next I wasn't sure why. Anxiety pulsed rapidly through my veins, making my thoughts feel jumbled and my body to move on its own. Maybe if I just continued running this feeling would go away.

So I sped up my pace, ignoring the flashes of sharp pain coming from my ankles. Ignoring the solid footsteps following suit. I wasn't surprised father sent our personal guard after me, a part of me expected it.

The longer I ran though the more fear entered my mind. Where would I run to exactly? And where to hide? At least, for a moment to catch my breath?

I didn't think this through nor did I have time to. If this keeps up then they'll catch me. And father would place a severe punishment on me.

My heart drops almost instantly. I shouldn't have ran.

I hastily turn a corner hoping I'll lose my chasers, instead I find myself colliding with solid. I squeal out in surprise when I hear a loud groan.

I stumble backwards only to have the breast of my heels sink into a grove of the street. My knees abruptly began to buckle, I was losing balance rapidly. Everything was happening too fast for my mind to catch up.

I sensed my body giving in to gravity, and felt my body being pulled towards the ground before making impact. That didn't happen. Instead my arms were held tightly before me by a firm grip, keeping me upright. I hear a small click of the tongue before me, I could already imagine whoever I hit rolling their eyes.

"Damn, watch where you're going, brat." The voice was deep with low richness edging their tone. It was definitely a man I ran into, and an irritated one at that.

I swallow thickly, apologizing would be the most polite thing to do and a quick way for them to let go. Yet, when I attempt such a task I couldn't do it. I could only breathe raggedly sucking in as much air as I could.

"Oi, aren't you listening?" The man demands hotly. "Open your eyes."

That could explain the total blackness of my vision. My eyes were shut. From shock or fear, I wasn't sure, but it mattered little.

Hesitantly I open my eyes with my body stiffening instantly. Under a street lamp I could see a deep frown adorning his strong features. His eyes staring down at me with such intensity.

I swallow thickly my heart sinking at the sight. I wasn't sure if he was able to see my pale face or not. If he did he made no comment. Instead, he raises a brow and narrows his gaze.

"Don't you got any manners?" He snaps. "I asked you a question. Why are you in such a hurry?"

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Thoughts on Isabella so far?

Lemme know in the comments!

Vote and Comment!