The Billionaire's Vendetta Bride

Chapter 2 -Beneath the Surface

Isabella's POV

The silence of the house deafeningly wrapped me like a shroud. Every floorboard squeaky sound seemed to reverberate through the hallways, highlighting the emptiness of the place. This building, with all its elegance and grace, felt like a jail. No warmth, no life—just hard luxury.

I moved across my bedroom, staring at the clock. Adrian had spent all morning gone. Though part of me wondered what he was up to, not that I expected him to tell me why he missed meetings. Every interaction with him was like playing chess against someone always knowing your next move. He scared me because I couldn't read his thoughts, and it seemed like someone or something was controlling him.

I had not missed the overheard conversation from the evening before. Adrian meant for my father, plans free of any rescue for him. The knowledge bit me like a constant reminder I was ensnared in an unfathomable game. I couldn't sit by though and watch Adrian destroy my family either. I had to find out how to protect them, even if it meant testing him.

The door creaked open, and I stopped—my pulse absent a beat. Adrian came into the room and his presence covered it like a storm cloud. He said nothing; his eyes flew over me to pick up the strain in my posture.

I blurted, "You're late," the words coming before I could stop them. Though I hadn't meant to meet him once more so rapidly, the anxiety rising inside me would not be stifled.

His face was icy and detached; he had eyebrows. "I never knew I had a curfew," he answered.

Keeping my ground, I crossed my arms. Adrian, a marriage is not what this is. One is an agreement. And should I be asked to help, I think I should be entitled to know your real agenda.

He stepped to the window and stared out at the darkening skyline. Though his voice was as chilly and far-off as usual when he replied, I momentarily considered he might genuinely answer me. "What qualifies you to know anything about my plans?"

"Because I heard you," I said, getting close and my annoyance growing clear. "Last night I crossed the line on the phone. You said my father's company would fall apart. You said that this served simply as the basis. "Adrian, really what are you looking for?"

He turned to meet me and fastened his gaze on mine. His eyes showed something fatal, something that made me shudder down my back. "You are over your head, Isabella. You find it unfathomable how things work in my reality."

Then tell me, I asked, getting louder. "Because I won't be watching you wipe out my family."

His teeth clenched, and for a fleeting second I glimpsed something—probably frustration—but it disappeared as quickly as it had originally been seen. "Your father brought this on him. Your anxiety has nothing to do with his fate."

Not my problem either. What I was hearing defied belief. "He is my family, too! Naturally, I worry about this as well.

Adrian moved forward, and his darkening eyes followed him. "Your father made judgments influencing not only your family but also more generally. About what he has done, you know nothing."

Underfoot, I felt the ground shifting. His statements cut right through my defenses. "What are you referring to?" My voice just above a whisper, I asked.

Once more he turned aside, his shoulders rigid. "It's useless. What has been done is what is done. You approved of the agreement, Isabella. You are mine right now. That's the only significant thing."

His strong finality in his remarks made me go. Why I expected something different escaped me. Adrian had never guaranteed anything; he had only presented me with a deal. My thoughts spiraled into this trap.

Still, I let it conclude like this.

Everything that had happened, I found myself sneaking about the estate the following morning. The more Adrian's comments settled in my head, the more uneasy I grew. He meant when he said my father had done things I knew nothing about? With what my father might have done, why would Adrian be so furious?

I walked across the big rooms, my footsteps echoed loudly off the marble floor. Here I felt like a piece of furniture unfit for the space. Designed either to keep people out or maybe in, this home was more of a fortification than a residence.

Turning a corner, I nearly ran over a woman I had never seen before. She had dark hair neatly bunched and sharp features. She was tall and elegant. Her eyes slid over me, assessing, then she smiled—a smile inadequate for her eyes.

Her voice was cool and friendly. "You really must be Mrs. Blackwell."

Not sure her name or why she was here, I nodded. That is me, sure. And you are....?

She said, "I'm Evelyn," offering her hand. " I am Mr. Blackwell's employee. I handle part of his commercial business."

Her grip was firm, her eyes were icy and determined. Although the words felt hollow, "It's a pleasure to meet you," I said. "I had no idea Adrian had other people employed here."

Evelyn's smile only widened a little. "Mr. Blackwell manages his business under discretion. As his wife, though, you will surely pick up more knowledge about our way of life."

Her definition of "wife" made my skin crawl, as if she didn't think for a split second that I matched Adrian's world. She might have been right as well.

Evelyn answered, "I'll be in touch," and turned away, her heels clicking on the marble floor.

I stood for a moment as my brain whirled. Evelyn was really who she was. And why did I believe her awareness of Adrian's preparations exceeded my own?

Later that afternoon, Adrian was in his office focused on a stack of papers on his desk. He turned away when I walked in, but I could feel the strain between us.

Keeping my voice relaxed, I continued, "I met Evelyn."

His eyes flicked up to mine, but his manner remained the same. "She has followed me for a long time. She does exactly what she does really brilliantly."

He didn't continue further, even though I expected otherwise. Adrian gave only the data required. Never did he offer more.

I questioned, approaching his desk carefully, "What exactly does she do?"

He moaned, at last laying the documents down and curling back in his chair. "Evelyn runs some areas of my business requiring discretion."

"Discretion" I returned, growing mistrust evident.

His voice scornful, he said, "She's trustworthy." That's all you need to know.

I wanted to push him further. Adrian was good at excluding people. That did not mean I would give up wondering though.

"Isabella," he said quickly, his voice softer than I would have expected. "You need to exercise caution. Startled by his sudden tone, I blinked—not everyone around could be trusted.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

He did not answer right away; his eyes seemed to be weighing how much to tell me. "Just...be careful," he advised once more, and turned his attention once again to the stuff on his desk.

My head swirling, I walked from his office. Adrian's rebuke, heavy with unsaid meaning, hovered in the air. Was he talking to someone else? Evelyn or someone else? And why, above all, would he advise me to use caution while he was the one pulling the strings?

That evening as I lay in bed, I thought I was under observation. Rising, I looked across to check whether anyone was outside the window. Still, the garden below was silent; the moonlight produced long shadows across the grass.

I turned aside and then observed a figure lurking in the shadows just at the edge of the garden. My heart ceased to pulse. Though I knew he was watching me, I saw his face.

My blood racing, I turned away from the window. He existed. Why was he then watching me?

Deep down I knew it was not my imagination; I wanted to act as though it were. There was something happening. Not something I could see yet.

And I stood precisely midway across the room. Who can this be?