The weeks that followed were much of the same. I tried to move on and not think about him. I was immensely grateful for having the opportunity to start over; you would think that because everything I was around was new, nothing held memories of him and I; that I would be okay. I wish that were true, it wasn’t that easy. I saw him everywhere, as if he was a part of me.

Having Chance helped, he kept me busy, and as much as I hated to admit it, I was pleased to still have a piece of Sebastian with me.

I had gone shopping with Brooke for a dress for The Gala that evening. The date that I had was someone I had never been with before; Madam said he was new and I was the first one to be with him. He would be at my place with a limo at seven to go for dinner and drinks, before our date.

“Are you all right, Bella?” Brooke asked with concern.

“Yes.”

“You know you can talk to me right? I’m here for you.”

“I know.”

“I’ve been there, you know?”

“What?” I questioned with curiosity.

“Where you are now, I’ve been there. It’s a place I never want to be again. It was within the first year of me being a VIP. He was charming and loving and I was young and naïve. He was the first man that made me feel like I was cherished. When we were intimate, it felt as if we were one person, like we were untied and soul mates.” I listened carefully.

“I was reckless, I knew exactly what I was getting myself into. He was married too, and the epitome of the perfect husband and father to the public; he was high profile. Except he promised me that he would leave his wife for me. Of course, I believed him. I don’t know how it happened, but I got pregnant. When I told him he politely and lovingly made me believe that having an abortion would be the right thing to do.

“I was so in love with him that I did. Bella…he didn’t even show up for the appointment. I went through it all by myself. Madam was livid when she found out. She raised hell and high water and was a terror in her fury.” A single tear fell down Brooke’s face.

“After it was done, he never saw me again. I know it hurts like hell, Bella, just believe me, it’s for the best. To be completely honest, you’re not the first one; it’s happened to all of us at one point in time. We aren’t made of stone, even though our life style insures us that we should be. You know now what it feels like to love. All good things must come to an end, Bella,” she hesitated, “we are who we are.”

“Brooke, what if I want more?”

“Then my love, as the words of the poem; ‘tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.” We laughed.

“I love you, Ysabelle.” She said as she embraced me in a tight hug, “Now, let’s go find you a smoking hot dress.”

 

I showered, primped, and manicured myself like I had done a thousand times before. The routine of it all quickly came back to me. This time was different. I seemed to lack the want for it. I didn’t crave the control like I once had. I didn’t yearn for it. I brushed those thoughts away as quickly as they came. I tried to anyway. Dodging them one by one as I dressed for my first date in over a year.

It was almost 7 p.m. by the time I was standing in front of the mirror, observing my white form-fitting gown that hugged my curves perfectly. I don’t know why I chose white, but I did. My soft wavy hair pulled to the side with pieces falling around my face, my makeup done to perfection, and my heels lifting me high off the ground. With endless amounts of diamonds on my ears, neck, and wrists.

Looking at my beautiful reflection in the mirror, I briefly contemplated what the hell I was doing. I looked radiant on the outside, but I felt like I was dying on the inside. I was slowly suffocating; I inhaled repeatedly, trying to catch my breath, gasping, hoping to get a hold of myself. I wanted to feel numb. No, I needed to feel numb.

I didn’t want to feel anything. None of the aguish, torment, and second guessing my decisions; I didn’t need it. I just wanted to go back to before Sebastian, before all this craziness started going on in my head.

“Shit!” I yelled, frustrated with myself. I grabbed the vile of cocaine that Brooke had given me earlier. She knew I was going to need it. I hadn’t done any drugs except for that one time with Sebastian since our whole debauchery had started; here I was, cutting up two perfectly thick white lines. I rolled up a hundred dollar bill and snorted one up each nostril, closing my eyes and taking in the wave of satisfying bliss that I felt within seconds. I looked in the mirror feeling my confidence, I felt invincible.

“Welcome back, Ysabelle,” I said to my reflection. I placed the vile in my clutch, sure that I would need it again later, and made my way downstairs. The driver smiled and nodded as he held the door for the white stretch limo.

I was welcomed to a flute of champagne and an even more devastatingly handsome older man. He looked European, sporting a five o’clock shadow, with light skin and thick black hair. His dark, conniving eyes appeared bottomless and devious when he smiled in appreciation. Taking in my beauty with wondering eyes.

“I’m Ysabelle,” I stated, smiling up at him.

“I know who you are,” he said in an arrogant tone.

“Pleasure, and you would be?” I replied with the same tone. I wasn’t taking this guy’s shit.

“A spitfire, I do enjoy a good challenge. The names Richard Slavic.”

“Seems fitting, Dick,” I countered, sipping my champagne.

He smirked. “Take off your panties,” he ordered.

“I’m not wearing any, Dick,” I stated in a sultry tone, trying to give him the same deviant eyes that he was handing me.

“Seems like we’ll get along just fine, Gorgeous. Call me Slavic.”

“Slavic,” I tempted.

“Say it again.”

“Slavic…” I moaned.

“Remember to say it just like that. Now crawl to me, gorgeous.”

“Not in a white dress,” I responded, stating my displeasure.

He smiled, “I’ll remember that for later.”

“I look forward to it.”

Dinner proceeded with the same demeanor. Slavic was controlling and arrogant. He ordered my dinner and my cocktails and even went as far as spoon-feeding me. I didn’t eat much, the cocaine running through my system made sure of it. I did enjoy the $5,000 bottle of wine though.

I excused myself to powder my nose. I quickly took care of business in the ladies room while unbeknownst to me, he stood right outside the door waiting for me.

I smiled as I opened the door and he stepped in front of me.

His finger swiped the residue of cocaine across my nose that I carelessly forgot to check. He grinned before wiping it back and forth on his front teeth.

Slavic took my hand and led me out, heading to our next destination, The Gala. He sat close to me in the limo, keeping his hand on the inside of my leg while his finger tapped to the beat of the music. I was trying. I was trying so hard. The cocaine helped, but there was just something about this guy that rubbed me the wrong way. I blew it off again. It was Sebastian. That’s it. Slavic was a fine looking man, ready to wine and dine me all night. I would have been playing him like a fiddle a year ago. That’s what I had to focus on. I could do this.

We made our way inside the already crowded room with endless amounts of people; it was the who’s who of Miami. The tickets alone cost a fortune.

Slavic couldn’t keep his hands off me, and if it wasn’t his hands it was his eyes. I was beyond fucked up from the cocaine and the alcohol that I didn’t care. I let him touch me and kiss me, and whisper sleazy and filthy things that he planned to do to me later. I soaked it all in. Every last fucking bit of it. I kept reminding myself that this was who I was. This was what I did. I was paid good money for men like Slavic to play with. He wanted to play. I would fucking play.

The whole place was crazy. The music, the damn good looking men walking around, all the women in their fancy little party dresses, and yes, me. I was drunk and high, but not quite where I wanted to be just yet. I’m not sure how long we’d been there before I felt the urge to go powder my nose again.

“Where you going? Did I say you could leave, gorgeous?” Slavic demanded, grabbing my wrist a little harder than he needed to. I placed my hand over his and smiled.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t you worry, the night is ours,” I laughed.

I walked away from Slavic, feeling on cloud nine. The handle wouldn’t turn when I tried to enter the ladies room, and I laughed at myself. I was turning it the wrong way.

“Jesus Christ, Slavic!” I yelled when I felt him shove me into the restroom, almost losing my footing. My first experience in over a year as a VIP was not going down in the fucking restroom; I had more class than that. I turned to give him hell; instead, I came face to face with a furious Sebastian Vanwell, standing directly in front of me.

I was sure I’d never seen that look on his face before. He walked toward me, causing me to step back until I was against the wall. Placing both hands on each side of my head, he spoke through gritted teeth. “You’re back to this shit again, selling yourself?” he scorned.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” I yelled, trying to move around him. He wouldn’t let me.

“Who the hell do I think I am? Are you fucking serious? You drop off the face of the earth without so much as a fucking goodbye, and you’re asking me who the fuck I think I am?” he aggressively roared.

“Fuck you, Sebastian; I’m working, now get the hell out of my way,” I screamed. He grabbed my hand when I tried to shove him, restraining them both over my head.

“Oh yeah, Ysa,” he snidely remarked, sliding my gown up to expose my thighs. “God, you make me fucking manic, do you have any idea how much I am ready to kill that motherfucker for having his hands all over you? Do you know how close I came to going over there and knocking him the fuck out?” he violently spewed.

“Sebastian, stop this,” I shrieked trying to close my legs together to no avail. He was stronger than me and pushed them open. His fingers found my bare pussy and he rubbed one finger back and forth through my wet slit.

“No panties, Ysa…is that how you do it, huh? Have you let him fuck you yet? Now that you’re back to being Madam’s little slut. How long did it take you till you were letting me fucking use you? Has this fucker touched this pretty pink pussy? My pussy…my girl…” He pushed his fingers inside of me curling them, aiming for my g-spot, just how he knew I loved. I bit my lip to conceal my moan. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of what he was doing to me, what he always did to me.

I did the only thing that I knew would make him stop before he brought me to orgasm right there, up against the restroom wall. I looked him straight in the eyes and viciously asked, “Where’s your wife, Sebastian?”

He immediately stopped. I took his distraction as an opportunity to maneuver myself away from him.

“Where is she, Sebastian?” I asked with a raised tone when he didn’t answer.

“Here,” he replied. Fuck. She was here? With him?

I kept walking backwards as he moved, coming after me again. I needed to get away from him.

“Sebastian, if you come any closer I will scream. I’ll have all of Miami in here in a matter of seconds. Your precious wife will know it all, so I suggest you turn the fuck around and go home.”

“Ysa…” he pleaded, calling for me.

“Don’t call me that…step the fuck back,” I yelled. Between the cocaine and the adrenaline pumping through my veins, I felt insane. I was angry with him for watching me with Slavic, for following me to the restroom, for being here with her, and most of all for bringing me to my fucking knees.

“Goddamn it, I don’t fucking care. Scream, scream as loud as you fucking want, there is no way in hell I am letting you go back out there to that fuck,” he urgently demanded.

I could see it in his eyes, he had gone mad, and I didn’t know how the hell I was going to get out of this restroom. He needed to go back to his wife and I needed to get back to my date before something even more fucked happened. Madam would lose her shit if she knew what was going on.

I calmly collected myself and went to him, placed my arms around his neck as his arms swiftly went around me. My eyes closed, briefly, taking him in. The feel of him, the warmth, the smell, the love. God. Why did I have to be in love with him? It took everything in me to say what I what I had to say.

“Sebastian…you have to let me go. Please…you’re killing me. I can’t do this anymore. If you ever truly cared for me, please let me be. I’m begging you…let me go,” I pleaded.

“I can’t,” he whispered into my neck.

“Please…” I begged.

He kissed my neck and pulled back to look at me. We stared into lost solitary eyes, hurting for a love that could never be. He kissed the corner of my mouth, looked down to my hand where he stopped and brushed his thumb across my knuckles, and let me go. I watched him walk out of my life for the second time.

I let out a deep breath that I hadn’t realized I was holding. I frantically reached for my purse, searching for the vile. I snorted four more lines. I had to, it wasn’t having the same effect. I smiled at my pitiful self in the mirror and reapplied my makeup, fixed my hair, and walked out to find Slavic.

 

 

Julia and her partners all decided to get tickets to The Gala as a form of networking. I didn’t want to be there. It had been a rough month for us, and being around people with all the tension going on between us just didn’t seem like my idea of fun. We were fighting, constantly, over nothing and everything. I was a miserable bastard and I was taking out all my frustrations on Julia.

I couldn’t stop myself. None of this was her fault, or so I thought. I don’t know when it happened, what moment of clarity it was, but I resented her even more now, not only for Olivia, now also for Ysabelle. How fucked up is that? I resented my own wife, because I was never able to be with the women I truly wanted. Julia was my safe spot. Julia was easy for me, and although I knew it wasn’t fair to her and she did nothing to deserve my bitterness, nonetheless, it was there.

She was what I was supposed to end up with, what was expected of me. I loved her without a doubt, I learned through my time with Ysabelle that it was never that feeling of just being madly and entirely in love with someone. The sensation of knowing that this person owns all of you, every last inch of your heart, mind, and soul. The person that stops time, everyday life, and responsibilities, the person that causes you to live in the now.

The heart wants what it wants.

Ysabelle was that for me. I knew then, more than ever, she was my person. You don’t know what you have until it’s gone.

The Gala was incredibly dull, for me anyway. Most everyone around us seemed to be having the time of their life. Not me. I didn’t want to be there and I definitely wasn’t having the time of my life. I tried to be there for Julia, being the doting and loving husband that she deserved.

We were standing in a circle with her lawyer friends, talking about, hell, I have no idea what they were talking about. I took another swig of my whiskey and felt her. I can’t explain it, she was there. I didn’t have to turn around to know it.

I nonchalantly removed my hand from my wife’s lower back and turned to see if my intuitions were right. They were. I felt the veins, instantly pop in my neck along with a rush of angry fury that I wasn’t sure I’d be able to control. She was on the arm of another man. Although she looked absolutely, stunningly beautiful, there was something off about her. She was sporting a demeanor, an attitude that I wasn’t sure about, nor did I like.

“You still owe me a boat ride,” one of Julia’s friends reminded me. I didn’t hear her. I was too busy watching the spectacle going on in front of me.

“Sebastian!” Julia called.

“Yeah?” I asked, coming to my senses.

“Chelsea’s talking to you,” she informed me with an irritated look.

Chelsea made her request again and I promised to take her and her daughter for a ride sometime. I turned my attention back to Ysabelle, ignoring the annoyed glare from my wife.

She looked like she was enjoying his affection, loving every caress and kiss that he gave her. It got to the point where they were almost fucking each other with clothes on. Ysabelle wasn’t acting like herself, not the woman I remembered. She was eating him up, and from her expression, loving his fucking hands all over her body.

My blood was boiling, especially when I watched her push his hand away from going up her dress more than once. The stupid fucker must have succeeded that time. He brought his fingers to his nose, smelling her, I was sure. She playfully slapped his hand away, laughing, after he licked his fingers.

“We can leave if this is really that awful for you, Sebastian,” Julia alleged, pulling my attention back to her.

“No, I’m fine. I’m going to run to the restroom, I’m fine,” I lied, giving her a quick, reassuring kiss as I watched Ysabelle walk away from the fucker she was with, heading toward the ladies’ room.

I didn’t know what possessed me to follow her in the restroom, but I did. I followed her right inside, although the encounter didn’t go as I envisioned it. I was blinded by rage and panic of having her in front of me again. I wanted to mark her. I wanted to remind her that she was mine. I wasn’t the least bit gentle with her. I was forceful, knowing that I was scaring her. I couldn’t seem to control myself. I was a man obsessed. She belonged only to me. As stupid as that sounds, that’s how I felt. I didn’t want her in the arms of anyone else.

The restroom scene was disgraceful. I touched her, trying to make her feel like the slut she was portraying. I was pissed. I wanted her to feel like a cheap whore, even though I knew there was nothing cheap about her. It just happened, the craze engulfed me until she slid her dainty arms around my neck and told me how she felt.

It nearly destroyed me. I had to stop being a selfish prick. I had to let her go. I had to think of her instead of myself. It wasn’t just about me anymore. I kissed her lips for what I knew would be the last time and left her, standing there alone and returned to Julia. She was deep in conversation with some executive and his wife. I don’t even think she realized I was gone.

I watched from the corner of my eye, seeing Ysabelle press her body against her date’s chest on the balcony. I thought I had regained my control. I was mentally ready to let her go. Except that wasn’t the case. The motherfucker squeezed her ass into his cock, sending another surge of venom through my veins. I didn’t think, I didn’t hesitate, and I didn’t stop myself. I couldn’t. Nothing logical was able to form in my mind; not my wife, not the bystanders, and not the poor bastard who was about to see my wrath.

I ran, sprinting through the crowd of people, right out to the balcony where Ysabelle was still pressed, firmly against his body.

“Take your motherfucking hands off her!” I shouted, shoving her to the side and pushing him in the chest.

“Excuse me…do you know who you are speaking to?” The guy in the fancy tux asked right before my right hand came in contact with his jaw. He stammered a little, catching himself on a table, and sending a chair to the ground.

I didn’t even know Julia was close. I didn’t think any of this through. It just happened.

“Sebastian, what the hell is wrong with you?” Julia yelled, grabbing my arm and stepping between me and Mr. Asshole. The rest was like a slow moving film. I looked down to her with balled fists and back to Ysabelle, whose eyes were wide with shock.

Julia turned, seeing her too. She looked right at Ysabelle and then back at me. I looked at my wife who no doubt had the look of realization written clearly on her face. She knew. It was all over her expression, and in her body language. Her hand slid down my chest and to her side.

I knew I should have cared, I knew I should have been explaining, lying, and covering my ass; I didn’t fucking care. I had no remorse over what I just did.

The man brushed himself off, “What the fuck is your problem?” he asserted, pulling all of our attention away from the triangle of stares, and the unspoken questions lingering between us.

“Do you know this asshole, gorgeous?” he commented, gripping Ysabelle around the waist.

I pushed him again, “Don’t fucking touch her, you touch her one more time and I’m taking you the fuck out,” I argued.

“Listen, you dick!” he shouted, coming toward me.

“NO!” Ysabelle grasped his arm, stopping him by jumping in front of him, “Let’s just go, come on let’s go.”

“Are you fucking serious? You’re going to leave with him?” I proclaimed dumbfounded.

“Sebastian…go home,” she whispered into the air before grabbing his hand and turning.

“Ysa,” I called to make her turn, “You leave with him and you’re dead to me, we’re fucking done, do you hear me? DONE.”

“Sebastian…” she said calmly, “I was never yours. I never belonged to you.” I watched her gaze move to Julia, “I’m so fucking sorry,” she said before pulling him and turning away.

I fucked up my entire life in a moment of pure panic. I let all of my emotions take over and I watched the woman I love walk away from me as if I were nothing, like I hadn’t just given up everything for her.

Of all the expressions, I was expecting to see on my wife’s face, this did not compare, “She looks just like her, Sebastian, it’s uncanny,” she wept in a daze, brushing the tears from her face. “Not here. Don’t fucking follow me,” she demanded, walking away from me.

There were no words that could express the severity of the situation that I had just created. I watched Julia walk away from me not knowing if she was walking out of my life as well.

 

 

I pulled Slavic away from the scene that Sebastian had caused. We reached the outside of the building and his complete demeanor changed. He crudely grabbed my upper arm dragging me to the limo, and shoving me in. I heard him say something to the driver before he barged in through the other door.

He backhanded me across the face so fast that I didn’t even see it coming.

“Do you have any fucking idea how embarrassing that was for me? Do you have a fucking clue who the fuck I am? I paid thousands of dollars for your pussy, not for your fucked up drama, you stupid cunt,” he yelled so close to my face that I could feel his spit on me.

I hadn’t even had a second to process everything that had just happened with Sebastian before he tackled me to the floor.

“You want to humiliate me you little shit, I’ll show you what it’s like to feel shame.”

He covered my mouth before I had a chance to scream and had my arms up above my head and my legs spread open before I had even blinked. It all happened so fast I couldn’t even contemplate what was going on.

The next thing I knew, I heard my dress rip and felt his dick at my entrance.

“You like it rough don’t you? You little slut,” he groaned before plunging into my dry core making me shriek in pain.

It all occurred within minutes, him fucking me and yelling obscenities while he was doing it. I had no option but to turn my head and let him use my body for his frustrations. I had fucked up royally and now he was taking it out on me.

I had no idea why he was even holding me down, I wasn’t fighting him. He was getting off it on it, the humiliation, the power, and the control. I gladly gave it to him to let this go by faster. 

I never thought I would be so happy to hear a man come. Once he was done he pushed off me and the bastard even held out his hand to help me off the floor. I curled myself into a corner of the limo just counting down the seconds until I would be home. As soon as I saw the entrance to my building I darted out of the limo before it even had a chance to come to a complete stop.

I took the elevator up to my floor, praying that no one would see me. I made it to my condo unnoticed and was immediately greeted with a thrilled Chance. I rubbed his head before walking into my bathroom.

I didn’t want to look in the mirror but found myself doing it anyway. I stared at an image that I didn’t even recognize, I had no idea who the fuck I was anymore. I had lost total sense of who I thought I was, of who I wanted to be, and the bruising on my cheek made it all the more real.

I was lost. I was alone. Again.

They say in order to find yourself you have to know where you come from. I laid in bed that night contemplating that theory while Chance laid beside me, enjoying my repetitive scratching under his neck. I needed to go back to where it all started from, I needed to go home.