CHAPTER 4

Isobel

I struggled against the binds holding me down, hoping there would be some purchase with the rubber coating. Sweat beaded on my forehead as I tugged and tugged with no success. The knot and weight of the bands on top of the belt still around my wrists were too much for me to overcome. I glanced around the room for something to help me. I didn’t want to be here when Brock got back. Even if he waited long enough to hear the truth, I didn’t think it would be enough for him to let me live. For one brief moment I thought about telling him while I was tying Nathan’s hands. I was Isobel Marcello. The wife of Nathan Marcello. A man with no moral compass who got off on the suffering of others.

I couldn’t count the number of times he’d maimed or killed someone, only to come home like some horny teenager and fuck me for hours, long after my body had had enough. When I complained he reminded me why I owed him and what I would lose if I didn’t do as he wished. One threat was all it took for me to do as he asked. I may have put walls up and become hard on the outside, but I’d seen firsthand what he was willing to do to people who didn’t fall in line. After the first few reminders, I let things happen as he wanted. And even if I didn’t want it, he made sure to have leather binds attached to the bed to hold me down. There were no nights of having a headache in my . . . his house.

The basement left a damp chill across my skin. Most likely why Brock had chosen this room as his workout area. The room was filled with almost as much equipment as a gym would have. Weights of every shape and size sat next to a treadmill and a bike. A heavy bag hung in one corner of the room, and a variety of gloves lined the floor next to it. There was absolutely nothing in my vicinity to get me out of there. Then again, I made my bed a long time ago.

The house was unusually quiet when I’d come home for Christmas break. There were no lights on the front of the house, no tree in the front room. Things that had been a standard in my house growing up. I dragged my suitcase up the stairs to my room. The door swung open and for a moment I wondered if I’d walked into the wrong house. The room was mine, the furniture in the same place, but that was the only thing that was the same. All of my personal things, stuff I’d left home when I went to college, were missing. Pictures that normally sat on top of my dresser and nightstand. Perfume bottles and makeup no longer littered my dressing table. I dropped my suitcase and ran over to my closet, throwing the door open with more effort than necessary, ignoring when it slammed into the wall behind it, probably leaving a dent.

Everything was gone.

Everything.

A sound from downstairs drew my attention. I spun on my heel and bolted down the stairs, hoping whoever was home could give me the answers I needed. I skidded down the hall, coming to a halting stop at my father’s office where I could hear two male voices behind the closed door. I knew we weren’t supposed to interrupt business meetings, but my panic overrode my sense at that moment. I threw the door open and two sets of dark eyes turned in my direction. My father sat behind his desk, the normal light in his eyes dimmed. A sadness I didn’t remember there. I focused on the other set of eyes, which sent a chill through me the moment mine connected with his.

My father jumped to his feet. “Amanda, I didn’t expect you home so soon.” His hands shook as he walked toward me.

Something about the other man’s eyes made me step back and rethink my decision. I could always figure out what happened to my things later. “Sorry, Dad, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’ll come back later.”

“You’re fine.” He wrapped an arm around me, bringing me closer to the man. My gut screamed at me to run the other way. To get as far away as possible. My feet stopped mid-step, and my father tightened his grip. He locked eyes with me, begging me without words to do as he said. I gave him an almost imperceptible nod and let him lead me forward. He gestured to the other chair in front of his desk. Slowly, I dropped into the seat, making sure to sit as far away from the stranger as possible.

My father gestured to the man. “Amanda, this is Nathan Marcello. Nathan this is my daughter—”

“I know who she is.” His voice slithered over me like a snake, but that was nothing compared to the feeling of unease that settled over me seeing his hand extend toward me, waiting for me to do the same.

I glanced once at my father before reaching out and placing my hand in his. He lifted and turned my hand up, bringing it to his lips and placing a kiss on the top. Normally the gesture would melt my heart. Sweet and romantic. This time it made my skin crawl.

The man had to be in his late forties, his dark hair slicked back with so much gel it was probably stuck to the top of his head. His dark suit was expensive and tailored. The whole picture made me think movie gangster, not reputable business man.

“You’re more beautiful in person, but I don’t think Amanda really fits.” He ran a hand down my hair, which sent a chill through me. “Neither does this light-colored hair. We’ll have to do something about both. I think Isobel is a better fit.”

That caught my attention. I snatched my hand from his and stood from the chair as if my ass were on fire. “There is nothing wrong with my name or my hair. I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m leaving. Dad, when you’re done come find me.”

I turned to walk from the room when a hand clamped around my wrist. I was forced around to face Nathan, who was now standing. His height equal to mine, the only thing that intimidated me was the coldness in his eyes.

“That is no way to talk to your future husband. You will do as I say when I say it. No questions.”

I opened my mouth to give this asshole a piece of my mind and tell him where he could shove the idea of me being his wife, when his hand covered my mouth.

“I will let this outburst pass this one time since you obviously haven’t been informed of the arrangement.” His eyes snapped to my father. “Roger, I expect you to handle this immediately.” He dropped his hand from my mouth, the same time my father came around the desk.

“Yes. Sorry, Nathan. She just arrived home today. I didn’t expect her until this evening when her mother and I were going to explain everything.”

Nathan nodded. “Good. I expect proper behavior from now on.”

Once again, I opened my mouth, but this time it was my father’s hand that stopped me from speaking.

“You won’t be disappointed. Everything will be as you want it.”

“Good, good. I’ll send the paperwork over in the next day or two for the name change.” He pulled a card from his wallet. “Between now and then, I expect her to visit this salon. Vivian knows what color I expect for her hair and will take care of it.”

My eyes widened, and I struggled to free myself, when my father’s other arm restrained me tightly against his chest. How could they be sitting there so calmly, discussing changing everything that made me, me? All without my opinion or choice.

“It will be done. My wife will take her there tomorrow. And the paperwork will be signed as soon as it arrives.”

Nathan turned to collect his coat from the back of the chair. “We’ll have dinner on Friday to finalize everything.” With that Nathan Marcello left my father’s office.

It wasn’t until we heard the front door close that he finally let me go.

“What the hell is going on? How are you calmly having a conversation about changing my name and dying my hair all without giving me a say? And what in the hell does he mean by future husband?”

His eyes filled with tears and he dropped down into the seat I’d vacated earlier. I was too pissed off to sit. “We lost it all,” he whispered. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Lost all what? What are you talking about?” I snapped.

“The business is bankrupt. We lost it all. I tried to find the money to save it. Looked for investors. I promise I had no idea who he really was or what he wanted when he offered to bail the company out and help make it profitable again. I just wanted to find a way to save you and your brother’s legacy. Your birthright.” He stopped rambling and buried his head in his hands.

“My birthright! I don’t give a shit about my birthright or the company when the cost is basically selling me off to be married. I don’t care what you think you agreed to. Tell him no. I won’t do it.”

Once again, I turned for the door. “I’ll spend Christmas at school.” There was no need for him to know I was heading to Brock’s instead. I knew he didn’t approve of our relationship.

My father’s voice stopped me the second my fingertips touched the knob. “He has Michael.”

I dropped my head, the dark layers of hair framing my face. My hands trembled as I thought about the day that changed my future forever. All to save my father’s company. A company I would never own or run because Nathan wanted me by his side at all times. And now the choices my father made had come full circle. I might have learned long ago how to protect myself physically and emotionally, but it didn’t mean I was ready to face the consequences of my choices.

And this time, it was my life on the line.