My Husband, the Enemy

Isabella jolted up at the loud beeping of her alarm beside her, “Oh my gosh! I’m late.” She picked up her phone to see seven missed calls. Three from her sister, another three from the hospital and one from an unknown number. Her younger sister had called to ask for new clothes for school, something she really could not afford right now. Isabella suspected she was getting bullied again and let out a big sigh. After listening to that voicemail, she played the next one, the only thing more urgent than her younger sister. She picked up the phone and called the doctor back immediately, “Hello, yes this is Isabella, Tanya’s daughter”. At the other end of the line a concerned yet professional voice spoke softly into the phone, “Isabella, you need to understand that your mothers illness is getting worse by the hour. We need to up her dosages and move her into intensive care. If we do not get the money to start the new treatments, I am afraid she might not make it past the end of the week”. “No, No. Please. I will send some money first thing tomorrow morning,” Isabella said into the phone, her words were muffled as she almost choked on her tears. “Okay Isabella. I hope you are able to,” the doctor said, and hung up. “I will,” she said back into the phone, even though no one was on the other line anymore. “I will,” she said again. Isabella was exhausted from the first half of her day, hours of typing and filing paperwork. After her shift ended, she came back home and decided to close her eyes to rest for only a few moments. She knew her day was far from over. Her stomach tangled up as her phone began to ring again, her sister Lila was calling. "Hey, Lila," she answered softly, forcing a smile to her face. “How was school today?” There was a pause on the other end before her sister’s small voice came through, a little shaky. “It was okay... I mean, better than yesterday.” Isabella sighed, knowing exactly what that meant. Lila had been having a tough time lately. The other kids at her school were really mean. Being poor in a rich city came with its share of pain, and Lila was bearing the torment. Isabella’s heart clenched at the thought of her little sister trying to keep her head up, fighting to stay brave when the world wasn’t giving her much reason to. “Did something happen?” Isabella asked, gripping the phone tighter. “I don’t mean to bother you, Izzy,” Lila replied, her voice small. “I know you’re already doing everything for us.” “It’s okay, Lila. You can tell me. What happened?” There was a brief silence before Lila sighed. “Some kids were teasing me again… about my clothes” Isabella’s heart sank in her chest. She glanced up at the clock, knowing she had less than an hour to get to the club, but she sat still to reassure her sister. “Lila, I’ll fix everything. I promise.” “I know,” Lila said softly. “I just... miss how things used to be.” Isabella could tell her sister had just cried. She swallowed hard before she spoke, trying to keep her own emotions in check. “Me too, Lila. Me too.” Before her fathers death, her mothers illness and the crushing debt, the Parkers had a good life. Now, Lila had to go to school with torn clothes and a backpack with worn out straps. After ending the call with her younger sister, Isabellas’s heart felt very heavy. She ran her hand through her hair in frustration as she leaned against her bedroom wall. If tears could come out, they would have at that point. But she had been crying since she was seventeen, crying didn’t solve problems. Still she wondered, how long could she keep this up? The debts, the stress, their mothers illness. It all felt like a ticking time bomb. She closed her eyes tight. Fighting the urge to scream. She had sent every dollar she made to the hospital this month, but it wasn't enough. It was never enough. Just as the thoughts raced through her mind, another notification buzzed. An email this time. Her heart pounded as she opened it, praying for good news. The job she had applied for, the one that could finally give her a stable income, had come through. Congratulations! We’re happy to offer you the position as secretary to Mr. Damian Knight… Isabella almost laughed in disbelief. She was finally getting a break, it seemed. Maybe things were about to turn around. But first, she had to make it through her final night at the club. As she dropped her bag in the locker room, she stared at her reflection in the tiny mirror above her dresser in the backroom of Club Noir. The mask she wore was black with sequins and trimmed with lace, it was both her shield and her prison. Hiding her from the judgement of the world and the shame of stripping to survive, but also keeping her trapped in this double life. Isabella felt a familiar twist in her stomach, the sickening mix of exhaustion and dread. Tonight was different though. Tonight was her last night. She adjusted the tight leather mini skirt she wore, even too small for her eleven year old sister. She clasped her bra at the back and took one final look at herself before stepping out into the dance floor. One last time, she reminded herself. The night was a blur of loud music, sweaty bodies and bills pressed into her hands. She was halfway through her last dance when a man reeking of alcohol grabbed her waist and breathed hot into her neck, “How ‘bout we take that bra off in the back room, sweetheart?” he slurred, his grip tightening painfully. Before she could pull away, a tall figure appeared, a commanding presence in a perfectly tailored suit. “Let go of her. Now.” His voice was low and dangerous. The drunk man hesitated at first, then loosened his grip and walked away, speaking curse words in slurred speech as he left. Isabella let out a sigh of relief and then looked up at the man who saved her. His dark eyed gaze intensely held hers, and for a moment, it felt like it was only both of them in the room. “Are you alright,” he asked. His voice was softer now. Isabella looked at him, he was so Isabella nodded, still a bit shaken. Her throat had suddenly become dry. “Thank you” she whispered, not sure what else to say. She looked up at him, his dark hair, sharp jawline and full lips made her do a double take, he was handsome. “Do you do private dances?” he asked. “I do. But this is my last night,” she replied. The words caught him by surprise, he looked at her with an eyebrow raised and lips curled into a smirk. The lowlights of the club made his skin glow, and Isabella’s pulse raced even more. They moved from the dance floor into a private booth, and Isabella found herself more nervous than usual. She started the dance, moving her hips side to side slowly. Damian’s dark eyes never left her as she danced. He was all-consuming, pulling her in without even touching her. When the dance session ended he reached into his pocket and pulled out the biggest stack of hundred dollar bills Isabella had ever seen in her whole life dancing at the club. He handed them to her without a word, then leaned in closer. He smelled like cigars and oakwood. “Take the mask off, I want to see your face,” he said in her left ear. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her skin. Isabella took her mask up to her forehead and looked into his eyes. Before she could close it back. He grabbed the mask and gently tugged it off her head. “You’re so much more beautiful with the mask off,” he said. His voice is low and daring. He placed the mask on the seat beside him. Isabella’s cheeks went red, but before she could say anything else, the phone in his pocket vibrated. He took it out of his pocket and took one look at the message then stood up in a hurry. “I need to leave.” he looked at his watch and pulled another stack of cash out of his suit, handing it to her. Then he was gone. Isabella took the cash and watched him leave, then she bent to pick her mask from his seat. To her surprise, she saw something else, a sleek black card with his name etched in gold, Damian Knight. She picked it up, her fingers brushing the smooth surface.