Chapter Two
1186 Words
Isabel's eyes widened as she heard the demand from Damian.
"And you are not to speak with me, or else you will be penalized," he said. The maid looked at Isabel with guilty eyes. Isabel stood rooted to the spot, her heart hammering painfully against her chest. She never let her eyes stray from Damian. His cold gaze met hers as if he was daring her to disobey him. She knew at that moment she had nothing to do except to obey.
She walked to the spot where the glass had shattered, knelt low, and began picking up the broken pieces. Her face was red with embarrassment, and tears threatened to fall from her eyes. A piece of glass tore at her hand, and she jerked backward immediately, wincing as she sucked on her finger.
"Useless," she heard Damian mutter as he walked away. Isabelle, wanting mostly to cry her eyes out, quickly placed the broken glasses in the sink and ran out of the kitchen, unaware of being called by Joelle. She wiped her eyes defiantly and walked through the corridor to the room where her things had been kept.
With a start, she realized that the room had been Ariana's when she was alive. She went in, a tear slipping from her eyes. Staring at the baby pink color of the massive room, so much reminded her of Ariana.
"I never wanted to take your place," she whispered. She acknowledged that she'd had feelings for Damian, but she had never thought it possible to be with him. She had never wanted her sister, who had loved her so much, to die. She went to the bed and flopped onto it, her mind spiraling.
How would she be able to survive in this household? Her parents had made her marry him, and blinded by her own unrequited love, she had accepted. It was just her first day at the mansion, but she was already scarred, both physically and emotionally.
She breathed and wiped her face.
“No, I must understand him,” she said to herself. He must be in pain.
Ariana had told her everything, just like her, Ariana had fallen in love with Damian at first sight. Their fathers had been friends and had wanted their firstborns to continue the union.
Of course, Damian wasn't happy with an arranged marriage, he'd been emotionally closed off but he'd started to fall for her and their short lived romance had started. It was two weeks to the wedding that Ariana had passed away from a ghastly car accident.
She shook her head wanting to clear the thought from her mind. She pulled the wedding gown from her body forcefully and went into the shower. The heat of the water was healing her broken soul, she sighed out in relief. It was until an hour later that she came out of the bathroom, feeling more refreshed.
As the tension in her body decreased, she walked out of her room, strolling inside the house.
The mansion was eerily silent. It was a stillness that was turgid, almost suffocating, as if the walls of the Wayne household had secrets they were too burdened to whisper aloud. Isabel walked through the cramped quarters of the library, her fingers moving against the spines of stringy books.
Most of them were decorative a sign of the family’s wealth but one piqued her interest. It looked, the leather worn and cracked, as if it had been used a thousand times.
Curiosity tugged at her immediately she saw it. Reaching for the book on the shelf, she was surprised it wasn't just a book, it was a journal. The bold name in faded gold across the front cover made her breath catch. Ariana Reyes.
Her sister’s name.
Her heart thumped against her chest. It seemed wrong, an invasion of Ariana’s privacy, posthumously. But the temptation proved too great. She peeled open the journal, pages crumbling like dried leaves beneath her fingers.
The entries were erratic, the handwriting tidy but rushed in places. Most of it talked about ordinary things, wedding plans, work deadlines but one entry made Isabel stop.
‘I can’t shake this feeling. Something isn’t right. Damian doesn’t recognize it, or perhaps he refuses to. But the Waynes feel some off. If I could explain it, I would, but it's like standing in a room full of shadows. I just wonder if I’ll ever really get away from them.’
Isabel’s brow furrowed. Ariana had always seemed assured, unflappable. To hear her sister register doubt, fear even, was jarring.
Another entry caught her eye.
‘I’ve thought about calling it off sometimes. Not because I don’t love Damian… I do but because I’m afraid I won’t make it through this marriage. The pressure is suffocating. And Joelle…"
Before Isabel could read further a voice startled her.
“What are you doing here?”
She pivoted, clutching the journal to her chest. Damian's frame filled the door, his dark eyes narrowing when they fell on her.
Her throat tightened and she froze. The contract’s rule rang in her mind. She was not to speak to him unless he allowed it. She gulped, at a loss for what to do.
Damian’s eyes darted to the journal she clutched in her hands, and his face soured. “Answer me,” he demanded.
Isabel opened her mouth, but no words emerged. Her heart beat became abnormal, with a start she realized that she had begun to fear him.
“Isabel, I asked you a question.
His tone was steady, but there was an edge to it, a threat.
“Or are you that afraid of ten billion?” He asked with a scowl on his handsome face.
She gestured to the journal, her hand shaking slightly, then to the bookshelf.
Damian’s jaw clenched, his patience clearly wearing thin. “Ohh, so you can’t even explain yourself now? he snapped. “Fine. Let me make it easy for you put it back!” he didn't tell but his voice carried enough authority to make her yelp
It was in a split second, but Isabel finally moved to the shelf and placed the journal back down. For a moment her hands hovered over the leather cover, reluctant to part with the only link to her sister that she had discovered in the cold, strange house.
Damian’s footsteps resounded, coming towards her, his presence overwhelming. He halted mere inches behind her, voice low yet chilling. “Mind your own business.”
She nodded once, her hands tightly clasped in front of her.
He let out a sudden breath, and for a moment she thought he would walk out. But then his tone changed, it was even more cold than the first, covered in steel. “You’re not Ariana. Stop trying to be her.”
The words struck deep, but Isabel stayed where she was. She couldn’t move. Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away. She could not respond not even if he'd let her. And he didn’t.
Damian turned away from her then and walked out.
- Writer
