The truth behind the contract

ISABELLA'S POINT OF VIEW

The door flew open and my heart nearly stopped. It was Felix.

My breathing came out fast and uneven, fear clawing at my throat. His eyes darted to the floor, and then to me. The moment his gaze landed on what I held, they widened, and rage darkened his face.

“What were you doing there? What are you doing with that?” His voice was sharp, full of venom.

I stumbled back, clutching the papers as if they could shield me. “You want to explain this?” My voice broke as tears blurred my vision. “You want to explain what this contract means?”

He frowned, his anger flickering for a second before twisting into something cruel. A smirk curved his lips. He stopped charging, his steps slowing as he began to walk toward me with the calmness of a predator.

The smirk on his face made my stomach twist. He was enjoying this. The way he slowed down, the way his eyes stayed locked on me like I was a cornered animal.

“You really think you can play games with me, Isabella?” he asked, his voice low, deliberate.

“I’m not the one playing games,” I snapped, though my voice trembled. My fingers tightened around the papers. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely hold them. “You lied to me. For years. Do you even know what this did to me? To my life?”

His jaw tightened, but that cruel little smile didn’t leave his face.

“I should have known. You’re a monster,” I whispered, the words burning as they left my lips.

His eyes narrowed instantly. I took a step back toward the suitcase in the corner of the room. My decision was already made. “I’m packing my things and leaving. This marriage is over. My contract is finished, Felix. You don’t own me anymore.”

The air shifted. For a second, he looked like he had been slapped. Then, without warning, he lunged. His hand caught my arm like iron, and in one swift move he shoved me against the wall. My back slammed into it, pain shooting up my spine. I gasped, tears springing to my eyes as his grip tightened.

“You are not going anywhere,” he growled, his face so close I could feel his breath. “Not until this issue is settled.”

I swallowed hard, forcing myself not to look away from his burning gaze. Fear clawed at me, but anger pushed its way through. “Then tell me,” I demanded, my voice breaking. “Who was I supposed to get married to? Who?”

His silence stretched for a moment too long. The flicker in his eyes told me there was truth buried there, ugly and dangerous.

I pushed against his chest, my palms flat on him. “Answer me, Felix!” My voice cracked, half scream, half plea. “Who was it supposed to be?”

His hand loosened on my arm, but only slightly. He stared at me, his smirk gone now, replaced by something sharper. Something that looked like calculation.

“You really want to know?” he asked softly, almost mockingly.

Tears blurred my sight again. “I deserve to know. After everything, I deserve at least that.”

He tilted his head, watching me as if weighing the moment. Then his mouth curved again, but this time the smile was bitter.

“You were never supposed to be mine,” he said finally. His voice carried a strange edge, a mix of anger and triumph. “You were supposed to belong to someone else.”

My heart pounded so loudly I thought it would burst through my chest. The papers slipped from my hands and fell to the floor. My voice came out weak, trembling.

“Who?”

For a second, he just stared at me, his silence louder than any words. Then slowly, cruelly, he whispered the name.

“Julian Salvatore.”

The name hit me like a blade through my chest. My breath caught, and the scream tore out before I could stop it. “No! Leave me alone, Felix!” My voice echoed through the room, filled with rage and disbelief.

For two seconds, his eyes flickered with something I couldn’t place. Shock. Maybe even regret. But it vanished just as quickly, replaced by the same cold fury that had haunted me for years.

Without warning, he shoved me down. My knees buckled against the floor, and the sting of impact burned through my palms as I tried to steady myself. I looked up at him, gasping, tears streaking my cheeks.

Felix stood over me, breathing hard, his jaw tight. For a moment, I thought he might say nothing at all. Then he straightened, his voice sharp as a knife. “You know nothing yet, Isabel. Nothing.”

He turned, his footsteps heavy as he strode toward the door.

I wiped my tears with the back of my hand, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might tear itself apart. Anger welled up, hot and raw, burning through the fear that had kept me prisoner for so long.

“It is not Isabel anymore,” I spat, my voice shaking but firm. “And it sure as hell is not darling either. I hate you, Felix. Do you hear me? I hate you!”

He paused at the doorway, his shoulders stiff, but he never looked back. The silence he left behind felt louder than any scream.

I sat there on the cold floor, trembling, my chest rising and falling in ragged breaths, my entire body screaming with the weight of the truth I had just heard.