Isabella

My body ached from all the ways Stephan had fucked me the night before. But at least the pain and the throbbing between my thighs left me with the reminder it was real. That Stephan was real. Sometimes, I’d wondered if I had imagined it all.

The night in my suite.

The hood of my car.

The bench at the restaurant.

I was afraid that one day I would wake up, and I wouldn’t have him anymore. Losing Stephan was my greatest fear. He was my addiction, my salvation, and without him, I thought I would lose my grip on reality. Because he was all I had left to keep me grounded.

I rolled over, the sun from the curtains hitting me in the face, forcing me to cover my eyes with my hand. It was too early in the morning, especially after the night I’d had with Stephan. He was insatiable, always ready for me, as I was for him. And I wanted more. I always wanted more of Stephan.

I was content with covering my head with the pillow and falling back to sleep, when I heard yelling downstairs. Our house was massive, an estate divided into sections that almost made it impossible to hear a sound. My bedroom was in the East wing, my father’s in the West, and my mother’s in the South, each of us occupying different parts of the mansion. Mark’s bedroom was down the hall from my mother’s, but he spent most of his time in the pool house to avoid making his drug problem more noticeable.

My room, on the other hand, was above my father’s study. The noise traveled straight up the air vent, the muffled voices of my parents filling the silent air. It was strange for my parents to speak to each other outside of public events. Knowing they were together, and arguing over something, piqued my interest. On occasion, they’d eaten meals on opposite ends of the long dining table with their faces buried in their cell phones or newspapers.

But this morning was different.

I sat up, tugged the black silk robe at the edge of my bed over my shoulders, and tied it around my waist. If my parents were fighting over something, I had to know if I was the cause of their unnecessary interaction. It was better to be prepared for a duel with my father, rather than be ambushed later.

After I slid on a pair of fuzzy slippers, I crept out of my room and down the hall, taking the back stairwell. One foot at a time, I moved closer to the commotion, my ears strained to hear every last word. My father’s voice was like a growl that startled me. He almost never showed any emotion when it came to my mother. Their marriage was one of convenience, my mother the perfect Stepford wife who gave him two children to round out his perfect little political family.

“Robert, I’m sorry.” My mother sobbed as if she’d been crying.

“Sorry isn’t good enough this time,” he shot back, his voice sharp and angry.

“It has to be.” She sniffed. “Let me explain.”

Like my father, she never showed an ounce of emotion. My mother’s behavior was far from the norm. She was a coldhearted bitch. Even at my grandmother’s funeral—her mother—her face remained stoic, devoid of any feelings. She looked no different from a corpse. My mother never helped me with my homework, dressed me for a dance, or even brushed my hair as a child. All of those responsibilities were left to the staff. To Carmella, the only woman who’d ever cared about me.

I loathed my parents. The only reason I never left was because I knew my father had enough power to hunt me down. And he would make me pay when he found me. He always did. No matter how hard I tried to run from my family and our pasts, it was never far enough, always within his reach. A man who had no limits was impossible to escape. That was why I threw myself at Stephan. I’d hoped he could save me. In some ways, he did.

“If you weren’t sneaking around behind my back, this never would have happened,” my father said.

I was at the bottom of the stairs, with my back flat against the wall, slowly inching toward his office.

“If not for you abandoning us, our family would still be whole,” my mother challenged, now sounding more confident in her words.

Were the waterworks all for show? Knowing her they were. She was a brilliant actress, the master of manipulation, where he was just cruel and cunning.

“We had a deal, Elizabeth, and you broke it. After this campaign is over, I want you out of my house and out of my life. For good.”

“You act like I was ever a part of your life.” Her heels clicked on the wooden floor and stopped, as if she was now standing in front of him. “None of us were ever a factor in the life of Senator Parisi. I made certain decisions to make you happy, whether you realize it or not and whether or not they were the right ones. But I held up my end of the bargain. You wanted two children, a wife who obeyed and served, and I did as I was asked. As far as I’m concerned, I have fulfilled my contractual obligations to you and this family.”

Her words sliced through me like a machete to the gut. I knew she hated us, resented us because of my father. But it still hurt to hear the woman who’d given birth to me say those things about us, as if we were all replaceable.

“You gave me a lie,” he said. “All of it. And now I have to embrace that lie because you were honoring our deal. I want both of you out of my life. One way or the other, I will make sure that happens.”

Both of you? Was he talking about me? Mark? Her lover? I had no idea who he was referring to, but I was hoping it was me. More than anything, I wanted to be free of him and his impossible standards and demands.

“We’ll see about that,” she muttered.

The fight ended with my mother storming out of the office and into the hallway. I had to slide further down the wall to avoid her seeing me. That was all I needed was to be caught sneaking around, listening to their conversations.

“Carmella,” she yelled at the top of her lungs. Her voice echoed off the high ceiling in the foyer.

Carmella power walked down the hallway, her body tense as she moved past me to meet my mother. “Yes, Mrs. Parisi.”

“Get my jacket and purse and have Javier bring the car around. I’m going to the city. Call Rosario. Make sure the apartment is fully stocked and ready for the week.”

I let out a sigh of relief.

Our family owned properties all over New York. The lavish apartment in Manhattan, on the Upper East Side, was my mother’s oasis. She spent most of her time there, while my father shuffled between Washington D.C. and Long Island. If not for his campaign, I would have been free of them both.

“Yes, Mrs. Parisi,” Carmella said before she walked away to grab her things and ring her driver who waited around on standby.

I was about to ascend the stairs, one foot on the bottom step, when my father shouted, “You had better be back in time for the fundraiser, or so help me God, I will make you suffer.”

I shuddered at his comment.

How could I be the offspring of such vile people?

An hour later, I was getting ready for the day, still wrapped in a towel from the shower, when Carmella knocked on my door and then stepped inside, closing it behind her.

“How are you, Isabella?” She approached me with her arms open wide to embrace me.

“Not great,” I confessed, hugging her back.

She smelled of fresh flowers and mint, and most of all, she reminded me of home. Not the one I lived in, the one I’d created in my mind when I was a child. The place where I went to escape my reality. Carmella wasn’t the paid help to me—she was everything good in my life.

I retreated into my walk-in closet, pulled on a pair of shorts and a tank top, and then sat next to Carmella on the bed. “Did you hear the entire conversation earlier?”

She shook her head. “I’ve trained myself to ignore anything that goes on inside this house.”

“You had to have heard something. Do you know what they were arguing about?”

“Sorry, sweetie, I wish I did. I was in the back of the house until your mother called for me. I had my hands full, too busy to pay any attention to your parents.”

“My dad said he wants her out of the house.”

“Your parents will never get a divorce. Don’t worry.” She took my hand in hers and rubbed the top of it with her thumb to soothe me. “Your mom might go away for a while, but she will come back. She always does.”

“I don’t know,” I confessed, leaning my head on her shoulder. “I hope they get a divorce. They’re horrible together. That’s not what bothers me. He said he wants her and someone else out of his life. Is she having an affair with someone?”

“Who knows, mi amore. Nothing would surprise me at this point. Your parents spend more time apart than together. It’s been like that since before you were born. When Mark was born, your dad was halfway around the world. He didn’t even bother to come home until a week later. Some people are not meant to be parents.”

“How have you worked for him for this long? He’s awful. So is my mom. They way they talk to you and the staff makes me sick. How can you even stand it?”

“Your father has his moments.” She leaned her head against mine and cradled me. “He’s not all bad. He helped me move to the States.”

“That was about the only good thing he ever did.” I sighed. “I don’t know what I would do without you, Carm. Wherever I end up, I hope you’re there with me.”

“You’ll always have me. Stop worrying. It’s time to get you ready.”

I sat up straight and helped her stand from the bed. “He wants me to marry Karl Vos. Do you remember that little snot-nosed boy? He came here a few times when I was younger for play dates.”

She laughed. “Yes. He was a little unusual.”

“I can’t marry him, Carm. I won’t do it. I’ve let my dad control everything, but I’ve had enough. I told him no. I’m putting my foot down.”

“Sometimes, it’s better to go with the flow than to fight him.”

My smile turned into a frown in an instant. “You too? Are you kidding me?”

“Of course not. I would never want you to marry a man you don’t love. But your father always seems to find a way to get what he wants.”

I grunted in frustration, dragging her by the hand into the closet. “I know. That’s the problem. For once, I would like him to get what’s coming to him. Everything can’t go his way all the time. I just wish I knew how to punish him. Seeing Stephan DeLuca doesn’t seem to be doing the trick.”

Carmella’s eyes widened in shock. “Isabella, are you crazy? Your dad would never allow it.”

I flashed a victorious smile. “That’s why it feels so good to disobey him. I know it’s killing him, and there’s not a damn thing he can do about it.”

“Be careful.” She placed a hand on my shoulder, looking at me in the full-length mirror on the wall. “I don’t want you to get hurt.

“Too late for that,” I admitted.

I was already falling in love with the enemy.