Chapter 11
Isabella
It had been three months from the time of my meeting with Dante, and we had talked on the phone just about every day since. It started out strictly business, but after the second month, we started to talk about personal matters like family, home life, friends, and whatnot. He was so humble and sweet. We had planned a trip to South Korea a month back.
The meeting was next week, and I was still nervous about going on a business trip with him. I hadn’t seen him since our initial meeting, and talking to him so much since then had made me warm up to him. Secure in the knowledge that his intentions were pure, I wasn’t sure why I was so nervous around him. He didn’t give me the vibes of him wanting to purchase my company. Everything about Dante was honest and upfront, so I needed to put that out of my mind.
Nathan and I had just finished dinner, but neither of us spoke a word to each other. I was sure he could tell something was on my mind, but I didn’t think he cared. The only thing he was concerned about was finishing some project he’d briefly mentioned to me the other day. I cooked us chicken cordon bleu with a side of stir-fried broccoli and red peppers, then served it along with his favorite bottle of wine. After I’d slaved all day in the kitchen, he didn’t even bother thanking me.
It seemed as if things had gone back to the way they were before. I had no idea what was going on with him. The last time we’d made love, he’d been very aggressive and left three bruises on my inner thigh and arms. Luckily, it had been close to four months and the bruises had since healed. The worst part of it all had been that he’d seemed to enjoy inflicting pain on me. I’d screamed for him to stop, but he wouldn’t until he instructed me to say Alpha Red. Only then did he stop.
Say it, say it, he’d screamed, pounding me harder, squeezing my backside and pulling my hair. It was only when the pain became unbearable that I said what he wanted me to. When I did, he closed his eyes and let out a long sigh of relief as if someone had just released him from captivity. I could see in his eyes that he enjoyed making me suffer. He enjoyed seeing me in pain. I hadn’t allowed him to touch me since, not until he promised me he would be gentler.
Maybe that was payback for accusing him of cheating. Whatever it was, I didn’t like it. When I’d told him to stop being so aggressive when we made love, he’d become annoyed and gone right into the shower without saying a word. The more his attitude changed, the more I wanted to take Maya’s advice and hire someone to follow him so I would know what he was up to when I was away or at work. I was torn on the subject, however. Maybe I needed to go outside and get some fresh air to clear my mind. It wasn’t as if Nathan were going to come down to talk to me anyway. I opened the door quietly, but it made a slight creaking noise, triggering Nathan to come to the balcony to see who it was.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“Just outside for some fresh air.”
“Oh. Have fun.” Before I could turn around to see his expression, he had already gone back to his room. He closed his door and locked it. If he thought he could just throw me a little sex and things would go back to the way they’d been, then he was mistaken. It wasn’t going to be that easy to wash away the discussions we’d had before.
The more distant he became, the more I found myself drifting away from him. I really hoped he didn’t think our marriage could survive on sex alone. I needed so much more than that. It became a void Dante was beginning to fill. That made me feel guilty. I shouldn’t be thinking of Dante that way. But the way he talked to me made me feel at peace—special even. I knew I couldn’t jeopardize our business relationship. I had to clear these thoughts from my head. Nothing good would come of them.
I found myself on the beachfront of our villa, alone, gazing at the sky. My white nightgown blew in the wind, as did my hair. This place always brought me peace. The breeze consumed my body. It refreshed me as it always did. The caramel-colored sand offset the orange-and-white tones of the sunset. I wanted to fly into it. Most days I wished I could. It was so beautiful. If only I had someone to share it with. The waves of the ocean hit my feet as I dug my toes into the sand with every step. This beautiful sunset was wasted on me. This scenery belonged to two people in love. They should take part in its beauty until the sun could be seen no more and the stars lit up the night sky anew.
The view mesmerized me so much I didn’t notice the bottle that washed up on shore until it hit my shin. It hurt like hell. Nothing, it seemed like, until I knelt down to pick it up. I didn’t know if I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and happened to be hit by someone’s discarded trash . . . or if it was something much more. I didn’t want to get my hopes up for nothing, so I contemplated throwing the bottle back into the ocean until I saw a thin piece of paper inside.
I opened the bottle and, no surprise, it was another letter addressed to me. Who in the world was sending me these things? It had to be someone who lived around here. I was going to find out who eventually. I took the letter out of the bottle and opened it.
There was my name at the top of the note: Dear Isabella . . . My heart sank. My emotions were tense enough with talking to Dante so much, and especially considering my husband’s recent behavior. Now it seemed I had a secret admirer. I unfolded the note all the way and gazed at the words written. The handwriting was elegant. Before this, each letter had been typed. I wondered what made this person write it out by hand this time. Either way, it was lovely.
Dear Isabella,
I will not say anything that will reveal my identity to you, for I don’t want you to know who I am just yet. That will come in due time. It will happen when the moment is right for us to proceed with this relationship, if one should develop between us, as I hope it will. Let me just say we met a couple of months ago. We did not talk for very long, but that brief discussion we did have solidified how deeply I care for you. Your smile lit up my heart with an intensity that could rival the rays of the sun. You are to me what water is to life. I may sound like a naïve fool, but I do believe in love at first sight. I have harbored these feelings for a very long time, and it took a lot of courage to address you by name in my last letter.
Isabella, you deserve so much better than what you have. You deserve someone who will cherish you, never hurt you, and never inflict pain upon you for their own enjoyment. You deserve a love that would make the gods themselves blush in awe. I don’t know if my words are getting through to you or if you’re laughing with each letter I send out, but rest assured that I am opening myself up to you without shame or ego. You have ripped those two emotions from my heart, and I am wide open to express how you make me feel with every breath you take, with each smile that graces your lips.
I had a dream about you a while ago. We were in a garden on the outskirts of Japan, surrounded by beautiful trees and bushes and nature. That’s when the cherry blossoms began to fall like rain, lighting up your face like a blessed angel put in this world just for me. You were wearing a pink silk dress when rainwater coupled with the blossoms started hitting us both—those soft, warm droplets. Your dress melted off and you stood there calling out to me. You wanted me to take you up against the trees . . . I dared not. My heart couldn’t take the chance of being rejected due to your current marital status.
You walked up to me as I stood there soaking wet with my head down out of respect for your pure, naked, velvety physique. You lifted my head up with your index finger, looked me in the eyes for what seemed like sweet eternity. And with your soft, plush lips that slowly pressed against mine, we kissed with everlasting pleasure that made my heart explode inside of my chest. Then I awoke alone in my bed covered in sweat. Visions of you and your husband together began running through my head as I sat there. That’s when an overwhelming sense of rage overcame me. That’s when I thought to rip up this letter and give up altogether.
However, meeting you in person kept my hope alive that one day you will see through your husband’s façade and discover the truth. Jealousy doesn’t overcome me that often, for I’ve never really had a reason to experience romantic jealousy. I know I have no right to be jealous, but what can I do? You have indeed changed me. What have you done to me? No, better yet, what have I done to myself? You have opened up something within me I never thought possible.
Isabella, if you could only know how much I adore you, if you could feel just an ounce of how much love for you is contained within my heart, you would be overcome with bliss just as I. Know this, Isabella: I do love you with all my heart. This is not infatuation, lust, or overzealous passion. This is true love I feel. Only someone who was truly in love would wish you happiness, even if it were not with them. And I wish you all the happiness in the world, even if it isn’t with me; that is how you’ll know I do love you unconditionally.
I wish and hope that someday, somehow, you do find love, true love, with me and me alone. And I will do everything within my power to persuade you into falling for me just as deeply as I have fallen for you.
I will conclude this letter with a couple of questions I want you to ask yourself: Do you truly love your husband? Have you ever loved him? And now, ask yourself, do you think he has ever truly loved you, or has he used you as a means to his own ends? I don’t wish to put doubt into your marriage. I just want you to evaluate your heart and look within yourself to find the truth.
That is all I ask of you. I do not wish to overstep my bounds, which is why I have chosen not to reveal my identity until the time is right. I want you to be 100% sure of your choices before I make my presence known to you. Until next time . . .
I reread the letter. My hands were shaking. I didn’t know what to say. How could he know so much about me? To say we had already met was unbelievable. I couldn’t think of anyone I’d recently met who would have these kinds of feelings toward me. Wait a minute—could this be Dante? No, that was impossible. It couldn’t be him.
A multi-billionaire like him wouldn’t waste his time sending letters like this. He could have any woman he wanted. It surely couldn’t be him. But who else could it be? Maybe it was that guy in accounting I’d recently hired. He was always so polite to me and soft-spoken.
He seemed like the shy type who would send girls love letters to express his emotions. But then again, I had heard rumors he might be gay, so I wasn’t too sure. Who had I recently met that might fit the profile? These letters were getting more intense. I had to find out.