The Prince of Chicago

Chapter 18

Angelo

I walked quickly up the stairs and down the hall, coming to Isabelle’s door. I could hear Rose scurrying behind me, and Denver behind her. God, the last thing I needed was an audience for this. Standing inches away from her closed doors, I looked over at the two of them. Denver nodded back at me, and Rose made a shooing gesture with her hand, as if to tell me to go on and do it already. I sighed, dropping my head. Then I knocked on the door. We were met with nothing but silence, so I knocked again.

“Go away!” a shout came from behind the door.

“Isabelle, it’s me,” I said, trying my best to show warmth despite my aggravation to the whole situation.

“You heard me!” her voice shouted back. I sighed loudly, running my hands through my hair and dropping my head. I looked over at Rose and Denver again, willing them to go away, but this time Rose just raised her eyebrows at me. When I continued to stare back at her, she mouthed the words ‘ask her’. I turned back toward the door and put my hand up on it, leaning.

“Isabelle, I wanted to ask you if you’d have dinner with me. Tonight. There’s this restaurant downtown I’d like to take you to.” I waited for her response, but nothing came. “So, what do you say, is it a date?” I tried to mask my irritableness.

“Are you serious? You’re asking me on a date after keeping me locked in this penthouse for a month and toying with my emotions like it’s a game?!” She shouted this through the door, but I could hear the sadness in her words too. Frustrated, I slammed my hand on the door. Rose jumped back. Denver looked at me with an eyebrow raised.

“Boss, excuse me if I’m overstepping here, but I think a more gentle approach may be a better alternative,” Denver said calmly, trying to diffuse the situation. Rose nodded quickly.

“Gently, dear,” she added. I sighed again, loudly enough that I was sure Isabelle heard it through the door.

“Isabelle, I have never intended to hurt your feelings. I’m asking nicely, please have dinner with me tonight.”

“I will never go on a date with you!” I heard her words spit through the door. It made me see red. I may have overstepped earlier, but I wasn’t playing a game with her; I wanted to go on this date, despite acting as though I resented the suggestion. I had feelings for her I couldn’t own up to or even really identify, and I had been fighting the internal battle of acting on them since she arrived. Today I almost lost that battle, and it drove her away from me, to the situation we found ourselves in now. Knowing that she found the idea of being close with me, of being something with me so off-putting that she’d rather lock herself in her bedroom than explore it infuriated me.

“You can’t stay in there forever!” I shouted, banging my fist on the door. How dare she be so difficult, all I wanted was to take her out to dinner! “Open this door! NOW!” I was huffing, out of breath from my outburst, but the door sayed shut. Rose looked at me with wide eyes, and Denver had his head in his hand. I huffed one more time, bringing one last fist down on the door. Then I turned to the two of them,

“If she doesn’t eat with me tonight, then she doesn’t eat at all,” I said, loudly enough that I was sure she’d hear me through the door. After that, I sulked away.

* * *

Isabelle

Angelo’s pounding was rattling everything inside the room. I had been standing a few steps away from the door, toying with the idea of opening it when he began his tantrum. At that point, any shred of me that wanted to face him and discuss what had happened in the office evaporated. If he wanted to act like a brat, then that’s how I’d treat him. I was putting him in time out, no way he would he be seeing me now.

When the pounding finally ceased and his outburst concluded with the threat of starving me, I threw myself onto the chaise and let go of tension I hadn’t realized I’d been holding in. The problem was, when he initially brought up the date, my gut reaction was excitement. Just like in the office earlier, the idea of there being an us sent my heart into a flurry. But then there was always my head, my conscience sitting on my shoulder, reminding me why I was here in the first place.

This man had spent the past month keeping me as his prisoner. Yes, I did like spending time with him, but I also didn’t have a choice. He forced me to stay here, forced me to work for him, and persisted in making himself a vital part of my life - I ate with him, worked with him, slept in the room next to him. In the rare moment I’d been allowed to leave the penthouse, it was with him. There was no escape from him, and while he’d generally been a gracious captor, my brain couldn’t help but remind my heart of the danger in him too. The threat he made on my life when I arrived, the situation at the warehouse today, even the threat he made to starve me moments ago… The man was a minefield, one wrong step and he’d blow. He’d shown me that enough times already.

But at the same time, the fierceness he’d shown to protect me, the flirty rapport we’d developed, that goofy, carefree side I’d gotten to see - that was the Angelo I’d gotten close to over the past month. That was the person who created this tangled mess of feelings inside me. Each day, as I felt myself slipping over the edge into trusting him, falling for him, my head always stopped my heart from letting go, reminding me of the danger he embodied, of the world he was a part of. He had a hold on me, and not just because I had complicated feelings for him. No, he had power over me like a predator does with its prey, and my logical side couldn’t help but question if these “feelings” weren’t actually born out of lust and attraction, but rather a deep-rooted need for survival in a precarious situation. Did I want him, or did I want to survive, to regain my freedom?

“Isabelle, dear?” a soft, warm voice from the other side of the door pulled me out of the familiar fight I was having with myself. It was Rose. “I’d love to come in if you’re feeling up to it.’

“Are you alone?” I wouldn’t mind seeing Rose, but I didn’t want to see Angelo, and using Rose to get me to open the door would definitely be something he’d do.

“Just me, I swear,” she responded sincerely. I walked over and opened the door a c***k, peering out to be sure. When I was satisfied that she was truly alone, I ushered her in, closing the door behind her. I went back to my seat on the chaise.

“I’m sorry about earlier, I can’t help but feel like it was partially my fault–”

“Don’t apologize for Angelo, he’s a grown man and can say those words to me himself,” I cut her off. “How would his outburst be your fault?” I knew I was being a bit rude, but Rose wasn’t the one who owed me an apology. If Angelo wanted to apologize like an adult he knew where to find me.

“Well, I was the one who suggested he ask you on a date,” she replied back, a bit curtly. I met her gaze then, and was surprised to see a look I hadn’t seen on her yet: annoyance.

“Why would you suggest that?” I retorted, a bit surprised at this revelation, and her reaction to me.

“It’s obvious there's a whole mess of something between you two, Isabelle,” she shot me a pointed look, like a mother scolding her daughter would. “And I refuse to tolerate any untoward behavior from either party on my watch. Angelo should be courting you like a gentleman, not taking unsavory liberties in a back office.” I couldn’t help but c***k a small smile at her use of the word ‘courting’, as if this was 1955. I sighed and looked back up at her.

“I can’t go on a date with him, Rose,” I said quietly back. She looked at me questioningly. Then, she closed the distance between us, sitting down next to me.

“Can’t, or won’t?” she asked.

“It’s not that simple,” I responded. “It’s just, this whole time I’ve been here, I haven’t been choosing to be here, to be with him. I’m still technically a prisoner. I can’t tell if whatever this is that I’m feeling is genuine, or if it’s rooted in my instinct to survive, to be free again. And until I have the freedom to choose whether I want to be here with him or not, I don’t think I’ll ever know for sure.”

I sighed and let my head fall into my hands. This was the first time I vocalized the battle that had been raging in my head for weeks, and it felt like a weight was now off my chest. I felt Rose’s hand fall gingerly onto my back and begin tracing small circles. She was such a soothing presence.

“I don’t know if Angelo will allow you your freedom, but I do know that he feels something for you, honey,” she said in her caramel coated voice. “And I also know that whatever it is you feel for him, it’s worth exploring. This situation you’re in, it’s far from ideal, but these are the cards you've been dealt. Look at this as an opportunity to turn them into a winning hand.” I met her gaze and she smiled down at me sweetly, pulling me into a comforting embrace.

“Maybe you’re right,” I breathed into her shoulder, almost too quiet to be heard. This whole time I had been viewing the solution to the problem as getting away from Angelo, but since that didn’t seem possible, maybe spending more time with him in a different setting would help me begin to sort through my jumble of feelings.

“I am right, dear,” she joked back. “And besides, I think a nice dinner downtown would be much preferred to me sneaking you up a plate after hours.” That got a giggle out of me, I knew she wouldn’t let me go hungry no matter what the house tyrant dictated.

“Fine, I’ll go on one condition,” I said back, pulling away from the hug and looking at her squarely. “I want him to apologize for his outburst this afternoon. I don’t much like being told to starve.”

“You drive a hard bargain, my dear, Angelo isn’t big on apologies,” she let out a small laugh. “But for you, I’m sure he can swallow his pride. I’ll let him know you’ll be ready by seven.”