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Isabella Don

I had everything planned out.

I had everything I would ever need if the unplanned meeting with my father didn't go my way. And I told myself that I was going to calm down and not get angry. But as I drove my car into the house my father owned, the anger simmering beneath my fingers took root once again.

Storming out of my car hurriedly, I slammed the door shut without care and made my way into the house. Some of the guards patrolling my father's properties tried to stop me but one look from me sent them rooted to the spot.

“Where is he?” I asked his assistant who is more like his second in command, Sergei. The older man raised both of his hands up, that neutral look that was always on his face only managing to rile me up.

“Your father has some guests over, Isabella. You will be right to calm down and wai—”

I brushed past Sergei while he was still talking and stormed down the hall toward the room where my father received important guests. I wasn't allowed to go to the room, he didn't want me there but as I was blinded by rage for the first time in my life, I didn't care.

Pushing the door open, I stormed into the room and slammed the door. My father and three other men I didn't recognize turned to look at me once I stormed in. The lines on my father's face hardened and I could tell that he was trying to control himself from lashing out.

“Gentlemen, this is my daughter, Isabella. Come on, Isabella. Come and say—”

“I didn't come here to fake a smile at your guests, father.” I interrupted, feeling my body shiver slightly from the cold glare he passed me. 

He was going to kill me.

My father was going to fucking kill me.

Chuckling softly, he turned away from me toward his guest. “I’m sorry about my daughter. She doesn't look well. I believe you understand that this meeting has to be rescheduled. Please, go on out. Sergei will escort you to your cars.” He told the men who understood the gravity of the situation and rushed out of the room.

Once they were gone and it was just me and my father, realization began to dawn on me on what I had just done. For years, I always tried to escape being in the same room as my father yet in a moment of anger, I had thrown all that away. I was doomed

“Isabella Don,” my father smiled devilishly as he rose from his seat and walked slowly toward me. 

I took a step back from him.

“No child of mine should ever raise their voice at me when talking. No child of mine should ever disrespect me in front of people and in private. No child of mine should ever barge into my office except being summoned.” 

“Well, that seemed off the table the moment you decided that you wanted to get me married to that old man. I'm only a twenty-three year old, father. That man is well over sixty years old.” 

My back hit the wall and my father's hand wrapped around my neck in a tight hold. I started to cough loudly, tears welling up in my eyes. Fuck. I had made a very big mistake and now I was going to pay for it.

“I knew I shouldn't have sent you off to college. That's why you have the decency to open this stupid mouth of yours to talk back at me and disrespect me like that.” 

His hold tightened and I found myself choking slowly, unable to breath while tears cascaded down my cheeks. I should never have come. My lungs burned and my father stared me in the eye while he continued to choke me. I didn't have the strength to push him off. I could only cry.

“Now, listen and listen good, Isabella. You don't get to go to work anymore. Submit all your credit cards to Sergei. Every single one of them. And you don't get to leave this house until I say you can. Your husband is going to be here in a week and when he comes, you will get married to him like I planned.” He spat.

Father released me and I was able to breathe while still coughing loudly. Tears were running freely down my eyes now. I hated my life. I hated my life so much that I wanted to just die. 

“You can't do that to me,” I cried when I finally found my voice. Maybe if I got on my knees and begged him, he would let me go.

I wanted to do just that when my father turned toward me again and slapped me, hard. My legs gave way and I fell to the floor, crying. 

“Silly, girl.” He hissed. “You won't be leaving your room for days.” He swore. 

I blinked twice and sighed in relief once I recognized where I was. It'd been a few days since that happened yet I hadn't gotten over it. I could have died. My father could have finally succeeded in killing me.

‘But you didn't die.’ 

My subconscious reminded me and I nodded quickly to myself. I had escaped my father. Late into the night, I seduced one of the guards, got him drunk and managed to successfully escape. I immediately got on the road. I was too paranoid to take a flight from Chicago so I drove to another city with one of my father's cars just in the case that mine had a tracker in it.

I arrived yesterday the tiny studio apartment I had rented in New York when I last came over and I had an interview to attend. Staring at myself in front of the vanity table, I stared at my new hair which I had dyed a new shade of brown from red. My father could find me easily with that color. 

I dried out my skin with the towel quickly and when my skin dried, I grabbed my underwear and put them on while thinking of what I was about to do. I barely had any money. I only had cash which was why I needed to get a job. Weeks ago, I had applied for different jobs at the city where I could work and now I had an interview.

What if they don't pick me?

No, no, no.

I didn't want to think about that. If I didn't manage to get a job soon, I would be back on the streets faster than a beggar and I couldn't have that happen. Quickly, I put on the outfits I had laid out to wear on the bed. A black knee-length corporate skirt with a white shirt. I tucked the shirt until the skirt, grabbed my jacket and wrapped my hair into a ponytail.

After grabbing all I needed, I rushed out of the apartment and hailed a cab.

“Where to ma'am?” the cab driver asked.

Quickly, I pulled out my new phone to check the address of where I was headed and then shared it to him. The man nodded and got on the road, asking me to get comfortable.

I couldn't sit still and couldn't help looking out of the window to see if I would see my father's men matching the streets in search of me.

“New to town?” The cab driver asked and I paled.

Was it that obvious that I didn't live in New York? God, no. I couldn't have that happening to me. I had escaped. Nobody was going to find me, right?

“Uh, no.” I lied. “Why did you ask?” 

“You have been looking out of the window…” he trailed off like I was supposed to know what he was meaning to say.

“No. I'm not new,” I ended the conversation.

The driver pulled up in front of Ciel’s Enterprise. The building is a skyscraper and it just looked very beautiful. Dumbfounded, I rushed out of the car after paying the cab man and rushed into the building. After an uncomfortable wait, I was directed to where the interview would be held. I wasn't even sure of the position I applied to. I just needed a job urgently.

But from what some of the job applicants were saying amongst themselves, I realized that it was the position of an assistant who has a shot at being an Executive assistant in the future. An assistant for the boss whom I wasn't sure who.

“Ms. Don,” the woman behind the desk called my name and I shot out of my seat and rushed to answer her.

“Y-yes,” I stuttered.

“The boss will have you now,” she told me, pointing down the corner where the others before me I'd taken. 

I nodded and straightened my skirt, nervously. I had to get this job. There was no other way. I just had to make sure that I got this job. Nervous, I walked toward the office down the corner. 

When I stopped in front of the door, I smoothened my skirt again, adjusted my shirt and then fixed my hair before I knocked twice on the door. A moment later, a deep husky voice asked me to come in.

Taking in a deep breath, I turned the door knob and stepped into the office to the sight of the most handsome man I had ever seen. 

But he looked way older than me. And he was going to be my boss.