Millionaire Marriage collapse

Isabella collapsed onto the plush mattress, her body drenched in sweat and trembling with the aftershocks of her earth-shattering release. Vanni, her lover, had withdrawn from her with clinical detachment, leaving her craving his touch. Her eyes traced the contours of his rugged profile, her heart swelling with love, but she knew better than to reach out. Vanni's words, always spoken in the heat of passion, still hung in the air between them, a painful reminder of their stark differences. "Give me a son, Isabella..." Five simple words that shattered the intimacy of the moment, reducing their lovemaking to a mere biological transaction. Months had turned into an eternity, and Isabella couldn't deny the growing ache in her heart. She had hoped Vanni would change, that their connection would deepen beyond the physical, but the reality was harsh. With each repetition of those words, Isabella's dreams of a soulful connection with Vanni faded further. It wasn't a sudden epiphany, but a gradual realization that had been building since the first time Vanni had uttered those fateful words. Isabella had tried to bury her yearning for something more, but it had become an ache that gnawed at her from within. She craved Vanni's touch, his affection, his love - not just for her body, but for her heart and soul as well. As she lay there, her gaze lingering on Vanni's distant form, Isabella knew she had a choice to make. She could continue to yearn for a future that would never materialize, or she could summon the courage to confront Vanni and demand more. It was a daunting decision, one that would change the course of their relationship forever. But Isabella couldn't ignore the ache in her heart any longer. She deserved a love that went beyond biology, and she was determined to find it - even if it meant risking everything she had with Vanni. But Isabella had her own five words! They were words that had been on the tip of her tongue for months and should have been spoken long before now. They were words that she could no longer swallow back; no matter how much it killed her to say them. She sat up, naked, her body still trembling and drew her knees to her chest. She wrapped her arms around her legs, pressed her cheek to her knees and watched as his breathing steadied, his own shaking was subsiding slightly. He lay spread-eagled, also magnificently nude, his eyes were shut but she knew he wasn't asleep. No, he would take a few moments to compose himself before heading for the shower, where she always imagined him frantically scrubbing her scent and touch from his bronzed skin. She could no longer contain the words and they spilled from her lips with desperate earnestness. "I want a divorce, Vanni." He tensed, every single muscle in his body went as tight as a coiled spring, before he turned his head to meet her watchful gaze. His eyes were hooded and his upper lip curled mockingly. "But I thought you loved me, Isabella," he taunted with exquisite cruelty and Isabella lowered her eyelids, trying to mask the shaft of pain at his words. When she was sure she had her emotions under control, she once again lifted her eyes to his dark gaze. "Not anymore," she managed, hoping the lie sounded convincing. "Hmmm..." it sounded deceptively like the purr of a cat. "What happened to 'I'll love you forever, Sandro'?" "Things change," she whispered. "What things?" He rolled onto his side and propped himself up onto his elbow, resting his head on his hand. He looked so much like a Roman gladiator in repose, that her throat went dry with desire. She swallowed painfully. "F.feelings change..." she stuttered haltingly. Again that husky purr of agreement but Isabella wasn't fooled by his relaxed posture; he was as tense as a coiled snake. "I.I've changed..." "You look no different," he said assessed, his voice still terrifyingly tender. "Still the same Isabella I married. The one who claimed to love me so much, she couldn't live without me. The one whose daddy made sure she got exactly what she wanted..." And that was when he struck, without moving, without so much as changing his voice. "The same timid little Isabella, who can't even give me the only thing I've ever wanted from this pathetic excuse for a marriage." She flinched but she refused to divert her eyes. "A.all the more reason for a divorce," she tried for blase but failed miserably. "Maybe for you," he shrugged elegantly. "But I told you from the very beginning, cara, there would be no easy way out of this marriage. Not until I got what I wanted from you and that day looks to be a long way off! Unfortunately, cliche though it may seem, you've made this bed and we both have to lie in it!" "I can't live like this anymore," she buried her face in her knees and fought to keep the tears at bay. "Neither of us has much choice..." he sat up and stretched languidly before getting up and walking, naked, to the en-suite bathroom. Isabella heard the shower start moments later and took a few seconds to compose herself, swiping the hot tears from her face with the backs of both hands before dragging on a gauzy peignoir and heading toward the kitchen to make herself a hot drink. While she was sitting on a bar stool, sipping her hot milk, she felt Sandro's presence behind her and the hairs in the nape of her neck stood on end. "You must be cold in only that skimpy little thing you're wearing..." he observed idly heading to the fridge and dragging out a carton of orange juice. His short black hair was damp and standing up in tufts where he had carelessly towel-dried it after his shower and he wore nothing but a pair of black boxer shorts. He looked as gorgeous as always and Isabella hated him more than ever for that masculine perfection. "I'm fine..." she got up abruptly and headed toward the sink to rinse her mug but he grabbed her elbow to halt her movement. She tensed, shocked by the touch... Vanni never touched her outside of the bedroom. In the eighteen months they had been married, this was the first time that she could recall him touching her without it being a precursor to s*x. He leaned closer to her and lowered his lips to her ear. She felt his hot breath on the side of her face before he spoke. "There'll be no more talk of divorce, Isabella... ever," he told her with a sickening air of finality. "You can't stop me from divorcing you, Sandro," she responded bravely. "You really want a divorce, cara?" He asked tauntingly and she nodded stiffly. "If you get that divorce, your cousin loses her business and she can't afford that now, not with a new baby on the way. She and her husband need all the capital they can get." Somehow she hadn't expected that. She should have but she hadn't. Sandro had loaned her cousin, Lisa, the start-up capital for her bookshop. Isabella didn't know what the specifics of that loan were but she had always assumed that it was something he had done out of generosity. Staring up at him now, she couldn't believe her own naivete. Sandro did nothing out of sheer generosity and that loan was merely another weapon for him to use against her if he needed to! "You wouldn't," she responded with nothing but bravado. "Lisa has done nothing to deserve this." "Cara, I will do whatever it takes to get what I want from you." "I have money too I can help her..." she began desperately. "No, you have a rich father and he had the opportunity to help Lisa when she was looking for the start-up capital for her bookshop but he made his contempt of the idea more than obvious to everyone at the time and you know that he would never support you through a messy divorce, Isabella." "I still don't believe you would do it! You have a reputation to uphold, you're an honest businessman, you wouldn't destroy a small business just to prove a point. What kind of message would that send?" she asked bravely. "That I'm not to be trifled with," he shrugged. "Do you honestly think I care what people think of me, Isabella? Do you think I care what you think of me? I never have and I never will. You're weak and spoilt..." "I'm not..." she tried to defend herself but he made a scoffing sound in the back of his throat before continuing on as if she hadn't spoken. "You'll get your divorce eventually but there's something I need to get from you first! You wanted this marriage, remember? You begged for it... So if you want a divorce right now, it'll come with some heavy penalties attached to it, are you willing to gamble with your cousin's future?" He knew she wouldn't do it! He knew he had her exactly where he wanted her. There would be no divorce. Not when so much hung in the balance. But there would be changes... Isabella Chloe Noble DiVinci was done with being a doormat! She said nothing, choosing to turn and walk away instead. He watched her go, she could feel his gaze burning into her slender back but he did not call her back. She did not return to the bedroom they had been sharing since the first day of their marriage, opting instead to head for the library, knowing that she could not sleep another wink. Not in that room, not anymore... He came downstairs, hours later, for breakfast. It was a Saturday morning and he usually didn't have any early morning meetings to rush off to on a Saturday, instead he tended to linger over his newspaper and coffee and largely ignore Isabella. That morning was no different. It was as if their early morning argument hadn't happened at all. They usually ate their casual weekend meals in the kitchen and the homey setting lent a false sense of domesticity to the scene. But while Isabella was uncomfortable and tense in the intimate setting, Sandro always remained as cool as the proverbial cucumber. Then again, that was nothing new, as he rarely showed emotion. In fact the "discussion" of that morning was the most heated she had ever seen him. He kept his feelings under wraps but had always made his contempt of her more than clear. It was in the way he refused to meet her eyes, the way he could make love to her without kissing her on the mouth, the way he could talk past her when he had something to tell her... while eternally optimistic, stupid Isabella, had never been good at hiding her feelings from him. Not from the very moment she'd met him, nearly two years ago. How hopelessly infatuated she had been! How quickly she had fallen in love... She shook herself, refusing to think about things she could not change and instead tried to focus on changing her present.