Shadows of Desire

Greenfield Grove, Los Angeles. Isabella Rossi sat on the edge of her bed, her mind racing with a tumult of emotions. She walked to the open window that overlooked a small section of the town. She tried to take deep soothing breaths to get her mind off whatever was to come, but it wasn’t working. She glanced around her small, cramped room, taking in the familiar sight of her childhood home. It was a modest apartment in the heart of Greenfield Grove, a small town in Los Angeles. But despite its humble appearance, it held a lifetime of memories for Isabella. She sighed heavily, as the weight of her circumstances pressed down on her shoulders. At just twenty-two years old, she found herself facing a situation she never could have imagined in her wildest dreams. It all started when her stepfather, Giovanni, had gotten himself into trouble with the wrong people. He had called her to the living room to speak to her earlier in the day to inform her of his current predicament or was it hers? “Are you going to stand at the door or do you need an invitation before you come in?” he asked with a scowl on his face. Isabella took in the sight before her as she walked into the small living area. Giovanni, a burly looking man, was pacing the room and was talking hurriedly, like there was someone after him. This was not something Isabella was unused to, since Giovanni was always getting into trouble with a lot of bad people, but she had never seen him this scared. She wanted to laugh at how scared he looked, but she had the good sense to keep her tongue in. Isabella walked into the living room and stood in a far corner, away from him. “I’ll need you to pack a couple of things for yourself; some really nice dresses and some bikinis or whatever”. He eyed her as he spoke. “Just bring whatever it is that can really show any little curve you have on you. I expect you to be done in twenty minutes”. “Why am I packing a bag filled with seductive clothes and where are you taking me to?” Isabella eyed him suspiciously. “You would do well to ask no questions and just do as I say, damn it! Our lives depend on it!” Giovanni said, pointing at her aggressively. Isabella couldn’t understand what was going on. She wanted to correct his statement and tell him that only his life depended on whatever he was asking her to do. Usually, her stepfather never involved her in any of his escape plans; he just does whatever he likes and leaves her out of his business. She didn’t know what to make of the whole situation and decided to speak calmly one more time to get clearer answers from him. “You have to tell me where we are going, or else I’m going to….” “You are going to what?” Giovanni stopped his pacing and moved towards her. He grabbed both her shoulders aggressively and spoke with a sneer, “The only thing you are going to do is go to your room and pack that damned bag, or I’ll do it myself”. He brought his face closer to hers to whisper his next statement in a rather demeaning way. “And rest assured, I would pack those underwear of yours and I would make sure to have my fingers caressing every pant line and my nose sniffing every delicious smell of you off it”, he ran a finger down her neckline and stopped just below her collarbone as he made funny sounds. Isabella could feel the burning tears in her eyes, but she was not going to let him see it. She was going to beat him at his game this time, and to do that, she had to comply for now and think of the next line of action. She tried to wriggle her hands out of his hold, but his grip was too tight. She nodded her head in agreement, indicating that she was going to do as he had asked of her, while she struggled to hold the sob that threatened to burst out of her throat. “Good girl. I like it when you get all fierce, but I like it better when you cooperate. Now go upstairs and get that bag ready, you have already used up five minutes of your time”. He let go of her shoulders and sat on one of the sofas in the living room. A loud knock on the door jarred Isabella back to the present. “You had better be almost done with your bags or else I’ll make good on my promise of packing for you”. Giovanni’s called from just outside her door. Isabella knew that he was going to make good on his promise and told herself wherever she was going to end up was going to be better than this hellhole she found herself in at the time. She turned around and began packing her bag halfheartedly as she told herself over and over again in her head that she is strong and this was the last time she was ever going to let her stepfather walk all over her. To spite her stepfather, she packed a lot of baggy jeans and sweaters with no bikinis and two sundresses. She was going to make sure that whatever Giovanni had in mind was not going to turn out in his favor. The thought of being used as leverage in her stepfather’s dealings filled Isabella with a mixture of anger and resentment. She had never been close to Giovanni, who married her mother when she was just eight years old. Her mother, Maria, had been a kind and gentle woman who had always put Isabella’s needs first. But after Maria got married to Giovanni, everything changed so fast. Isabella’s once caring and cheerful mother became a shadow of herself, a woman who would never sit and rest until Giovanni said so. She became a shadow of herself; always making excuses on the days when Giovanni hits her, defending him when he yells at them, saying things were going to get better when she knew they were not going to and after her mother’s death six years ago, Isabella was left to bear the brunt of Giovanni’s anger. A few moments later, Isabella’s room door flew open and Giovanni walked in, taking in her appearance. “Could have at least knocked” Isabella grumbled under her breath as she tied her hair in a bun with yellow scrunches to match the sweater she had on. “What is that you have on?” Giovanni half yelled dramatically. “Put on a dress or something, not that thing you have on. No, that definitely doesn’t work”. He walked to the wardrobe at the far end of the room that half watched the window and scanned through for a while and finally held up a dress, smiling triumphantly. “Here, wear this. I need you to look like you are worth whatever I would be proposing” he said, handing her the dress. Isabella took the dress with a grimace as she looked at her stepfather incredulously. “You want me to wear this? Much less to the house of a stranger?” “You can do it yourself, or you can let me do it for you. Besides, I’m very sure you won’t be strangers by the end of today”, Giovanni said as he moved to the door. “Five minutes, and I’m back and if you are not in that dress, I’ll help you get in it”. Once she was all alone, Isabella could no longer hold it in. She let the tears flow. She held the dress to her chest as she sobbed silently. She was not going to let Giovanni Santoro know how much he affected her. A few minutes later, she walked to the bathroom, washed her face and got into the dress as she accessed herself in the mirror. The beautiful yellow sundress hugged her slender curves in all the right places. It had a deep v-neckline that was meant to draw attention to the gentle curve of her collarbones and the gentle swell of her cleavages. Despite its daring cut, the neckline remains tasteful, hinting at allure rather than revealing too much. The open back of the dress added a gentle touch of intrigue, exposing Isabella’s smooth skin with subtle sensuality. The red flower patterns on the dress did so much to accentuate the deep fiery red of her hair. She let her hair fall freely down her shoulders and checked her face one more time in the mirror for anything that hinted at the fact that she had cried. She dabbed a little bit of powder on her face to conceal the little bags she noticed just underneath her eyes. A few minutes later, Isabella was walked down the stairs with her bag strapped to her shoulder. She stood for a couple of minutes as she watched Giovanni bop his head to whatever was playing on the radio he held closely to his ear. She turned around one last time as her eyes swept round the place that had brought her more pain than peace in all the years she had stayed. “This is it”, she said to herself. This was the last time she would have any painful memory attached to this place that threatened to swallow her whole. She had no idea what awaited her wherever she was going, but she knew one thing for certain – her life would never be the same again.