Chained in silence

ISABELLA'S POINT OF VIEW

His hand cracked against my cheek so hard I stumbled into the wall.

“You stupid woman!” Felix roared. “Where were you thinking of going?!”

“I—I wasn’t going anywhere… please, I swear—” My words broke as he shoved me to the ground.

“You can’t even make a decent juice for Vanessa,” he spat, kicking me in the ribs. “Useless.”

Warm blood trickled from my nose. My vision blurred, but no tears fell. I had learned not to cry—it only made him hit harder.

Felix adjusted his tie, eyes full of disgust, then stormed out of the house with her. With Vanessa Page. His mistress.

The door slammed. Silence.

I pressed my palm against my swollen cheek and tried to breathe through the throbbing in my ribs.

“Madam…” the maid’s soft voice broke the quiet as she rushed in. Her hands trembled while she dabbed at my bleeding nose with a clean cloth. “Please… try not to anger him.”

“I didn’t do anything,” I whispered. My voice was flat, empty. Because this wasn’t new. He had been hitting me for years. Cheating on me for years. Loving me? Never.

When the maid left, I climbed upstairs slowly. My body ached with each step, but I moved on autopilot. In the mirror, a stranger stared back—bruises, swollen lips, hollow eyes.

I changed out of my torn dress, cleaned my wounds, and slipped into a silk nightgown. Then I sat on the bed. Waiting. Like always.

Because no matter how much he hurt me, I had to be a dutiful wife.

The front door banged open again. Heavy footsteps came closer.

Felix.

The stench of perfume—her perfume—clung to him.

“Get off my bed,” he snapped, throwing his jacket on the chair.

“Yes, Felix.” My voice was a whisper.

He stretched out lazily, and soon I was kneeling at the side of the bed, massaging his feet as he drifted to sleep.

My husband. My tormentor. My prison.

And I wondered… how much longer could I live like this?

Felix’s breathing was steady. His eyes shut. For the first time in weeks, he looked almost human lying there.

I tiptoed. Careful. My heart slammed against my ribs so loud I thought he’d hear it.

One step. Another. My fingers shook as I reached for the small bag I had hidden in the wardrobe. Just a few clothes. A little cash. Enough to run. Enough to breathe.

My bare feet barely touched the floor as I crept toward the door. The key was already in my palm, slick with sweat.

Just a little more, Isabella… just the door…

But before I could slip out—

A hand grabbed my wrist.

My whole body froze.

I turned slowly, praying it was the maid, praying it was anyone but him.

It wasn’t.

A fist crashed against my cheek, sharp and brutal. I hit the floor so hard my vision spun.

Felix towered over me, his chest heaving, his eyes blazing like fire. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” His voice was a growl. “Where do you think you’re going?”

My lips trembled, but no sound came out.

“Answer me!” He yanked me up by the arm, his grip like iron.

“I—Felix, I wasn’t—”

Another slap silenced me. My ears rang.

“You dare try to leave me?” His face twisted with rage. “Your punishment for tonight…” He paused, his lips curling into a cruel smirk, “will be one you’ll never forget.”

“No… please, Felix, I—”

He dragged me across the room like I weighed nothing. My knees scraped against the floor. My body was too weak to resist, too used to this cycle.

“You belong to me,” he hissed. “Not because I love you. But because the contract says so. Ten years, Isabella. Ten years as my wife.”

His words cut deeper than his fists ever did.

I remembered that day. The day he saved my family. The day the hospital bill could’ve buried them all. And the day I signed my freedom away.

Ten years. As his wife. As his property.

He shoved me down, and the cold metal of chains clinked against my wrists as his guards locked them in place.

Shame burned hotter than the bruises on my skin.

Felix brushed his hands together like he’d finished some chore. “Run again, Isabella, and I’ll make sure you regret the day you were born.”

He left me chained there. Alone. Broken.

And I knew… night after night, punishment after punishment, I was slowly dying inside.

The cold from the marble floor seeped into my skin. I sat there with my knees pulled tightly to my chest, my arms wrapped around them like they were the only thing holding me together. The chains rattled softly whenever I shifted, reminding me of my place—reminding me of him.

My cheek throbbed from his blow. My lips tasted like salt and iron. But that wasn’t the pain that broke me tonight.

It was the silence. The hollow echo of this mansion that never felt like a home.

I tried to steady my breathing, but my body betrayed me. A sharp cramp clawed at my stomach. I gasped, doubling forward, clutching at myself as the ache spread like fire.

Then I felt it. The warm rush between my legs.

“No…” My whisper cracked as my eyes widened. “Not again…”

Tears blurred my vision as I lowered my hand and saw the red.

Blood. Too much.

And then the water.

I pressed my hand over my mouth, muffling a sob as another wave of pain hit me, harder than before. I curled into myself on the cold floor, shaking, rocking, praying this wasn’t happening.

But I knew it was.

Another baby. Another life I couldn’t hold onto.

Another piece of me torn away before it even began. He only ever touches me when he's drunk and then days later after receiving series for blows...I get this.

Hot tears streamed down my face as I cradled my belly with chained hands. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” My voice broke, over and over. “Please, not again.”

The walls swallowed my cries. Nobody came. Not Felix. Not the maid. No one.

It was just me—me and the blood, the pain, and the empty space inside where life had once tried to grow.

And as the night stretched on, all I could do was cry into the darkness, knowing tomorrow would come, and I would still have to call him husband.