Chapter 155 If Fate Were Kind
The sudden thought hit him like a jolt, stirring a nameless irritation. He came back to his senses and shoved her toward the bathroom.
"Go. Wash yourself before you come out."
He didn't like the way she felt against him. His voice stayed cold. "I bought cherry blossom body wash. Use it from now on. That's Beatrice's favorite scent."
Beatrice's favorite scent?
The words froze Isabella's face into a brittle smile, the kind that looked more painful than pleasant.
William's mood soured further. When she didn't move, he stepped inside, caught her by the arm, and dragged her under the showerhead. In one harsh motion, he stripped her clothes and twisted the knob to its highest setting. Scalding water poured over her head.
Steam filled the room instantly. Her pale skin flushed red under the heat, but she didn't flinch, didn't even blink, as if she couldn't feel it.
When William's hand brushed the spray, he recoiled. Was she really not burning?
He'd rather see her skin reddened by boiling water than feel the icy chill he'd touched moments ago.
He turned the water up full, holding her there until every inch of her was flushed. Only then did he shut it off.
She looked like she'd been cooked alive. He grabbed a towel, wrapped it tight around her, and carried her back to the bed.
Warm. Finally warm.
He savored that warmth. He pulled her close, even pressed his feet to hers, stealing every bit of heat she had.
Isabella lay quietly in his arms, but her mind echoed with Amara's words from the night before.
Did people really have another life after this one?
If they did... would Beatrice get another chance too?
And if she did, would she still want to be her sister?
Probably not.
She'd been selfish. Always worrying Beatrice. And in the end, she'd helped cause her death. Beatrice would never want to see her again.
The thought stabbed at her chest. Tears slid down without a sound.
She missed Beatrice so much. If fate could give them another chance, she'd wish for nothing more than to keep her by her side, to never face the world alone.
That night, William didn't touch her. He didn't try to take her. He just held her until sleep came.
By morning, he woke first. Realized his arm was around her. Instinctively, he pushed her away -- then kicked her off the bed.
She hit the floor hard, lifting her head in pain, only to meet his cold stare.
She didn't know what she'd done to anger him. He looked at her like she was something foul, then turned and went to shower.
Why hadn't he touched her last night? Wasn't that why he came -- to take what he wanted? For a moment, there had been something else. Not mercy. Disgust. Disgust at her cold body. Disgust at her.
When he came out, she was packing. His brow lifted, his mouth curling into a mocking smile. "Since when do you leave without my permission?"
Isabella flinched. "William, I won't be gone long. One call from you and I'll come back right away. Please... let me go home, just for a little while?"
He didn't answer. She set her things down, thinking fast. She remembered last night -- how he hadn't touched her. Maybe he was angry.
She stripped quickly, lay back on the bed, legs apart, waiting for him to take her.
His eyes darkened. He snatched a towel and threw it over her. "Isabella, you're disgusting. You can go, but only under my control. I say when you come back."
He wouldn't admit he actually wanted her gone. Since tearing down the old cottage, there'd been a flicker of regret. He told himself letting her travel back and forth, then threatening her like this, would be more entertaining.
It was just another kind of torment.
And one day, when she truly angered him, he'd finish her for good.
Isabella was already grateful. "Yes... yes, I'll do whatever you say."
He still found her repulsive, but her body had stirred his hunger. He tore the towel away and pinned her down, making up for last night with relentless intensity.
He didn't care she had to leave today. He kept her until noon, testing how much strength she'd have left for the journey.
She kept her face blank, only hoping he'd finish soon. She needed to get home.
At least he didn't drag it out this time. After a final thrust, he released into her.
He dressed with satisfaction. Isabella moved like nothing had happened -- rolling out of bed, heading for the bathroom to wash and change, ignoring him entirely.
His frown deepened.
She packed light, but added two extra outfits. Before heading to the station, she stopped at a pharmacy for blood pressure medication.
Back in her hometown, she saw the broken wall lined with blue temporary work tents. Bruce was unloading timber and bricks with the workers.
The wood smelled faintly of pine, warm as if it had stored sunlight. It looked just like the beams from her grandmother's cottage.
She walked closer, seeing the gray bricks stacked neatly, their rounded edges exactly like the old-style ones she'd asked for.
"Isabella, you're here." Bruce waved. "These timbers came from the mountains -- old pine, solid enough to last decades without warping."
She touched a cool brick, her nose stinging, but her lips curved into a smile.
"Bruce... thank you. This is exactly what I wanted."
She meant it. He'd followed her instructions perfectly, even exceeded them.
Bruce grinned. "It's what we should do. Don't worry, I'll help you restore it. Take your time looking around -- I'll get the men clearing the rubble."
She nodded, eyes wet. It was finally happening. The work had begun.
Bruce and his crew cleared the stones. More materials arrived, piling high on the open ground.
She could almost see it finished -- her grandmother in the garden, tending flowers, checking the vegetable beds.
She stepped forward, nearly walking into a stack of timber, when a hand caught her arm.
"Isabella?" Donny's voice was close, concerned. "Are you okay?"
She blinked, turning to smile at him. "I'm fine. You're here too."
"You almost walked right into that wood."
She glanced at it, just smiled faintly.
Donny frowned. She'd been somewhere else entirely. Most people just stare off when they're distracted -- she'd walked straight into danger.
When she said nothing, he sighed. "Hermione asked me to bring you for lunch."
She remembered -- Hermione had told her when she arrived that they'd wait for her at noon.
She followed Donny, her eyes scanning the surroundings, as if searching for something.
He noticed. "What are you looking for?"