A warning...
955 Words
~Isabel~
"Mr. Sterling is my father," William replied, leaning forward. Then he spoke loud enough for everyone to hear, "You can call me William. After all, we are family now, right?"
He let that threat hang in the air for a second. Then his eyes flicked down to my dress one last time, and his lip curled like he smelled something sour.
"And Isabel, do me a favor. Don’t wear anything floral in my office or in this house. It looks cheap, and I won’t stand for it."
Heat crawled all the way up my neck to my ears. I shoved my chair back so hard the wood screeched loud against the floor.
"I don’t wear cheap things, William," I shot back, my voice shook a little but I didn’t back down. "I wear what I worked hard to get."
I didn’t wait for anyone to say another word. I turned and walked out, but I could feel his eyes burning into my back every single step.
I didn’t slow down until I was inside my room and the door clicked shut behind me. I leaned back against the cool wood finally letting out the breath I felt like I’d been holding forever.
My hands were shaking so bad I could barely feel my fingers.
After a few minutes I started pacing back and forth across the floor, like the walls were squeezing in around me. How am I supposed to deal with this?
I needed to calm down. I thought a glass of water might help, or maybe a time machine to send me back to New York.
Since water was the only thing I could actually get, I slipped out of my room and walked quiet down the stairs.
The estate felt even bigger and scarier at night. I wandered through the halls until I found the kitchen. It was huge, all shiny steel and stone counters. I grabbed a glass, filled it up, and pressed the cold rim to my forehead to try and stop my head from spinning.
"Planning your escape?"
I jumped so fast water sloshed over the edge and onto the floor.
William stood right in the doorway. He had on a plain white t-shirt and dark sweatpants, but even without the fancy suit he was just as intimidating. If anything, he looked sharper, more unguarded and dangerous.
"Just getting water," I managed to say, setting the glass down slow.
He walked into the kitchen, his steps making no sound at all. The only light came from the small lamps over the island, throwing shadows across his arms and chest. He moved slow, circling around until he was standing right next to me.
"My father is easy to fool," William said, his voice low but carrying through the quiet room. "He sees a sad story and a pretty face, and he pulls out his wallet. But I don’t have those soft spots he does."
I gripped the edge of the counter behind me so tight my knuckles turned white.
"I don’t want his money. And I definitely don’t want anything from you."
"Right. That’s what everyone says." He took one step closer. Then another.
All at once he was so close I had to tilt my head back just to look him in the eye. He slammed one hand down on the counter right beside my hip, trapping me between his body and the edge.
"You just happen to move into a mansion worth millions, and get a job you didn’t earn. Pure luck, I suppose?"
His words were cold, but I could feel the heat coming off him. Up close he looked tired, like he’d had a long, hard day. I hated that I noticed. I hated that my heart was beating so hard I was sure he could hear it.
"I might not have the usual experience," I snapped, refusing to look away. "But I worked for every grade I got. I earned my spot at university. And I will earn this job too, whether you like it or not."
His gaze dropped to my mouth for just a second. The air between us felt thick, I could barely breathe.
"You play the part well," he murmured, leaning in even closer. "The hardworking girl who has it so tough."
He lifted his hand. For a second I thought he was going to touch my face. Instead his fingers caught the collar of my dress. His knuckles brushed my skin, and it felt like a jolt running right through me.
"I meant what I said at dinner, Isabel," he whispered, his thumb brushing the fabric. "Get rid of this. You’re in a whole different world now. If you want to last in my office, stop acting like you need saving."
I knocked his hand away fast. Our skin touched for just a second, and that spark came back again.
"I will wear whatever I want," I told him, though my voice came out softer and shakier than I meant it to.
William’s eyes went dark. He stared at me for what felt like forever, the silence so heavy it felt like it might break. He looked like he wanted to tear into me, and the scary thing was, I wasn’t sure I wanted him to stop.
Finally he stepped back, and that thick, burning heat went with him.
"Monday morning. Seven sharp," he said, his voice turning cold again.
He turned to leave, but paused right at the edge of the shadows. He looked back over his shoulder with a cruel smile.
"Don’t be late, sister."
He let that word hang there, before he walked away into the dark, leaving me shaking all alone in the quiet kitchen.
- Writer
