Running From Him, Falling For You

The rain had started early that morning It was raining heavenly. By evening, it had stop raining but the weather was too cold the type that makes everywhere cold. Isabella stood by the small window of their licking living room, watching the water roll down in their celling .The glass was cracked at the corner, a tiny reminder of an old argument between her parents that she tried hard to forget. She hugged her worn sweater around herself as a shiver ran through her. Her parents were talking in low tone They thought she couldn’t hear, but she had every word So clearly through the thin walls of their tiny apartment. It always did. It’s tonight, Liam, her mother’s voice trembled. You promised you’d talk to him again. You promised! I did her father snapped, then sighed wearily. But Alexander doesn’t negotiate. You know that. He’s given me until midnight. The word struck Isabella like a chill knife in the ribs. She pressed her palm against the window, trying to anchor herself, to keep from moving into the panic rising in her chest. For weeks, she’d watched her father grow smaller. Not physically though he’d lost weight but in presence. In spirit. He used to laugh. He used to argue back. He used to stand tall. But lately, his shoulders drooped forward as if he carried a hundred invisible bags of stones. And her mother had become quieter, moving around the house like a ghost trying not to disturb the living. They were hiding something from her. She wasn’t a child anymore, but they insisted on treating her like one. Isabella hated secrets. Secrets were what made walls c***k, families crumble, trust dissolve. She turned away from the window and walked toward the living room. The couch sagged in the middle like a tired old man, and the small dining table wobbled. She caught her parents’ voices clearly now they weren’t even trying to keep them low anymore. Aria, I don’t have a choice. Her father’s voice cracked. The sound made Isabella stop at the doorway. Liam West wasn’t perfect. He made terrible choices; he trusted the wrong people; he gambled his hope on risky dreams. But she had never—never—heard him sound this broken. What do you mean you don’t have a choice? her mother demanded, her voice thick with rising panic. She’s our daughter, Liam. Our daughter. I know he shouted, and the room fell into a stunned silence. His voice had always been soft with Aria. Always. Isabella walked into the living room fully now. Her mother was gripping her father’s shirt collar, her fingers trembling. Her father's face was pale, his eyes red-rimmed, the bags under them deeper than she’d ever seen. They looked up at her at the same time. It was the kind of silence that sucked the air out of a room. Papa? Isabella whispered. Her mother dropped her hold immediately, stepping back as if caught doing something shameful. Her father straightened his shirt and wiped his forehead with a shaky hand. Isabella, he said, forcing a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. You should be resting. I’ve been resting for hours, she replied softly. I heard everything. What’s happening? What midnight? What deadline?” Aria’s lips trembled. Sweetheart Tell me, Isabella said quietly. Please. Her father’s shoulders slumped again. It was like watching a mountain crumble. He gestured toward the couch. Come sit. She did. The couch groaned under her, a familiar sound that usually comforted her. Not tonight. Her father sat across from her, elbows on his knees, fingers clasped together so tightly they turned white. Bella… He began, using the pet name he hadn’t used in months. I made… a mistake. Her heart clenched. A dangerous type of mistake. The kind you don’t come back from. Her father swallowed hard. A few years ago, when things got bad, I borrowed money. From someone powerful. Her stomach turned. Papa… I thought I could repay it. I thought I’d get a better job, or win just enough to clear it. But interest… kept doubling. The more I paid… the more I owed. Her mother covered her mouth with her hand, tears slipping through her fingers. And now? Isabella whispered. Now, he said, voice hollow, the debt is too much. The man wants payment tonight. Let me talk to him, Isabella said. Maybe he—maybe he’ll allow more time? Or maybe we can sell the apartment We don’t own it, her mother whispered. Then something else—anything Her father looked at her for a long moment. A moment filled with pain. With guilt. With the kind of regret that crushed a man’s soul. He doesn’t want money anymore, Liam said finally. The room tilted slightly. Isabella grabbed the edge of the couch. What does he want? Her father closed his eyes, as if saying it aloud would burn his tongue. You. The world stopped. The rain outside seemed to fade into a distant hum. The flickering bulb overhead buzzed softly. Her mother sobbed quietly. Isabella felt the blood drain from her face. Me? she whispered. What do you mean… me? He… offered a deal, Liam said in a voice barely above a breath. If you go with him… the debt is forgiven. Aria sank to the floor, crying into her hands. I told him no. I told him you’d never agree. I begged him to run away, to call the police but they said the police can’t help us. They said Alexander Knight owns the police… Her mother’s words dissolved into sobs. Alexander Knight. Even the name felt cold. People in the neighborhood whispered about him. A billionaire. A man who built empires on both legal and illegal strings. A man whose smile never reached his eyes. Men feared him. Women avoided him. Anyone who owed him never slept peacefully again. Isabella stared at her father. You… sold me? The words were fragile, almost disbelieving. No! he cried. No, Bella, I—It wasn’t like that. I didn’t want to. I swear I tried everything. I begged him for time. I tried to run but his men Papa… Her voice cracked. You sold me. He collapsed to his knees in front of her, tears streaming down his cheeks. He grabbed her hands. I’m sorry, he whispered over and over. I am so sorry. I failed you. I’m a terrible father. But if you don’t go, he’ll kill me. He’ll kill your mother. He might take you anyway. I couldn’t, He broke into sobs. I couldn’t let him hurt you. Isabella stared at the man who raised her, who held her hand when she learned to walk, who taught her how to pray, who helped braid her hair when her mother fell sick. And he was on the floor. Begging for forgiveness. A slow, cold numbness spread through her limbs. She pulled her hands away gently. What time? Her father froze. What time is he coming Her mother crawled to her, grasping her arm. No, sweetheart. No. We’ll run. We’ll hide. Where Isabella asked softly. Where can we hide from a man like him Silence swallowed the room again. Midnight. The deadline. She looked at the old wall clock. 11:12 PM. Her heartbeat slowed. A strange calm washed over her not peace, but acceptance of a nightmare she hadn’t chosen. There was a soft knock at the door. Three quiet taps. Her mother screamed and covered her mouth. Her father stood frozen, his face turning white. Isabella rose slowly from the couch. I’ll go, she said. No her mother cried. No, Isabella, please If I don’t, she whispered, he’ll come in. And he’ll take me anyway. And hurt both of you. Her father sobbed harder. Isabella wiped her cheeks. She didn’t even remember when she started crying. She smoothed her sweater, though it was useless. Nothing about tonight could be made right. The knock came again gentle, patient. A knock from someone who wasn’t in a rush, because time belonged to him. Isabella… her father whispered brokenly. Forgive me. She didn’t answer. She didn’t have the strength. She walked toward the door, each step heavy, like walking into quicksand. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the handle. Bella, her mother whispered behind her. I love you. A tear slid down Isabella’s cheek. I love you too. She opened the door. And her world changed. A tall man in a dark suit stood under the flickering hallway light. Black umbrella in one hand. Cold blue eyes locked onto hers. He didn’t smile. Miss Isabella Liam? he asked calmly. Her voice was barely audible. Yes. He nodded once. Mr. Knight is waiting. Behind her, her mother whimpered. Her father choked on a sob. Isabella stepped out, feeling the weight of the night settle on her shoulders like chains. The man offered her no comfort. No reassurance. Only duty. Follow me. She did. The door closed behind her with a soft click.The hallway felt colder. The lights buzzed overhead. The rain outside grew heavier. Downstairs, a sleek black car waited with tinted windows. The kind of car that didn’t belong anywhere near their poor neighborhood. Is he… inside Isabella whispered. No, the man said. He will meet you at his residence.He opened the door, and she stepped inside. The leather seats were soft. The space smelled like power and wealth and danger. As the car began to move, Isabella stared out the window, watching her neighborhood fade into the darkness. The streets she knew. The home she loved. The life she once dre amed of building. All shrinking behind her. She pressed her forehead to the glass and closed her eyes. Tonight, her freedom ended. Tonight, she stopped being Isabella Liam. Tonight, she became property.