The poor Isabelle could hardly cope with what was she just immersed into, the inner circle of the ominously dangerous, but alluring world.
Liam kept on parading her around as a top modern prize, presenting her to a runaway of wealthy upper-class and affluent clients.
Each day she used to be close to the paintings and the garden, but now Isabelle just started to look motionless.
"My dear, you simply must acquaint the Vanderbilts," Liam would whisper in her ear, his sweet mouth heating and war on her skin. "They are a lever to achieving that contractor's deal to bring on new projects. "
Bison was an irreplaceable resource in the lives of Indigenous people on the continent.
The gift of the bison brought sustenance, seasonal food, social interaction, art, entertainment, music, and clothing to their everyday existence.
Isabelle in return would wear a patiently learned grin, nodding in superficial agreement before trying to engage in some friendly banter with the ladies around her, and all the while they eyed her with jealousy.
And so she learned, and in fact, a messed-up game with power and wealth treated as something dancing, for which men performed each move with caution and woman made no mistake in her words.
And after a while we found that Liam had become the ultimate Puppet Master, with a grip like Hercules, completely controlling all the strings.
Isabelle was craving for the break, for an unlikely distraction that would take her away from the overwhelming world she found herself in.
However, Liam strong-and-weak, when he was very jealous, never gave her a moment of respite.
"You don't think I'd let you get any ideas of independence, do you?" sounded his voice, which was difficult to tell whether it was a threat or just an insult.
As Isabelle had to play to the script, she assumed the persona of a lady in waiting, endorsing the role of a faithful bride-to-be, although the real she was becoming less and less prominent.
One of these never-ending social events brought Isabelle face to face with a person she had recognized but hoped to never see again.
A soft, manly voice purred from behind her, saying, "Well, well, if it isn't the little artist who caught the big fish,".
As Isabelle turned to confront Kyle Barrett, Liam's ex-lover, and her own particular tormentor, she froze, her blood becoming cold.
"Kyle," she said with a cautiously neutral tone. "I didn't expect to see you here." With a menacing grin, Kyle's eyes skimmed over her figure in a way that made her skin crawl.
"And pass up the chance to play with my good friend Liam's new toy? Put an end to the notion."
He reached out and ran a finger down the naked flesh of Isabelle's arm, and she resisted the temptation to pull away.
"I'll grant you that; you clean up nicely. However, we are both aware that you are merely our common friend's transient distraction."
His remarks struck a chord with Isabelle, igniting the uncertainties and fears that dogged her every waking hour.
To Liam, was that all she was?
A fad, a plaything he'd throw away when he got tired of it?
Just as she was about to reply, a well-known individual appeared beside her, his commanding presence seemed to occupy the entire space.
Deceptively calm, Liam said, "Kyle," greeting him. "I didn't realize you'd been invited."
Even though there was a brief glimpse of something darker in his eyes, Kyle's smile never faltered.
"Old friend Liam. I would not pass up the opportunity to wish you well on your impending marriage."
With a look that made Isabelle's skin crawl, he shifted his attention back to her.
"Though I must say, your taste has certainly... changed."
Liam's eyes flashed with barely controlled rage as his jaw tightened.
"Kyle, control your tongue. Isabelle is going to be my wife, so please treat her with the decency she merits." Kyle made a show of giving up by raising his hands.
"Naturally. I didn't mean any offense." His eyes strayed back to Isabelle, and this time his smile had a somewhat predatory quality. "But we both know how these things tend to... unravel."
Liam didn't have a chance to reply before Kyle vanished back into the crowd, leaving a trail of anxiety in his wake.
Isabelle turned to face Liam, her heart racing.
"What did he mean by that?"
Liam had a mysterious look on his face, his jaw clenched. "Not a thing. Trouble-making has always been a trait of Kyle."
However, Isabelle couldn't get rid of the impression that Kyle's remarks revealed more information than what was initially apparent, perhaps a hidden threat or a window into Liam's shady history.
As the evening progressed, Isabelle discovered that she was unable to get rid of the uneasy sensation in the pit of her stomach.
The entire event seemed to be clouded by Kyle's presence, as his subtle jabs and suggestions continued to weigh heavily on her thoughts.
Liam didn't eventually confront the elephant in the room until after they had gone back to the apartment and the door had clicked shut behind them.
With a measured and low voice, he started, "About Kyle..."
Isabelle stiffened, ready for whatever revelation he was going to make.
Liam met her gaze, his eyes cautiously guarded. "He and I... have history." Isabelle felt her gut contort.
"History?" With an inscrutable gaze, Liam nodded.
"We had a hand in it. For a while."
Isabelle was processing the ramifications of the words as they hung there, thick and suffocating.
"You mean... you and Kyle were lovers?" She found it difficult to utter the words.
"Lovers? What? No." Liam concluded for her in a serious tone. "We were linked with the same person as friends. It was a long time ago though."
Isabelle's world, meticulously crafted, tilted on its axis as her brain whirled.
Her soon-to-be husband, Liam Callahan, had been linked with another guy, one who appeared committed to ruining her life.
She managed, barely raising her voice above a whisper, "But... why?" Liam's countenance became stern and his gaze tightened. "Isabelle, it was a long time ago ancient times."
He moved in closer, making his massive form appear to tower over her.
"Our agreement is what counts right now. Our mutual future." With a sharp gulp, Isabelle's throat became parched.
"And Kyle... he doesn't factor into that?" A sardonic smile curved Liam's lips.
"Kyle is only a phantom of my former self. He has no authority over you or me."
Isabelle couldn't get rid of the impression, though, that there was more to the narrative than he was revealing, even as he was speaking. Liam seemed indifferent to Kyle's presence, his barely concealed threats, and their weight.
Isabelle wondered aloud what more secrets might be hidden in the shadows of her future husband's history as Liam left the room, leaving her alone with her racing thoughts.
More to the point, how would those secrets fit into the meticulously planned life she'd been thrown into?
In the chic, contemporary headquarters of Russo Enterprises located across the city, Damien Russo ambled through his lavish workspace, a menacing grin forming a curve in his mouth.
"Well?" he said, his irritation evident in his tone. "What have you learned?" Rachel, his assistant, moved forward, holding a thin file in her well-groomed hands.
"Everything, sir, that you requested. Isabelle Marino appears to be a bit of a mystery."
Damien's eyebrows shot up in curiosity.
"Oh? Tell, please."
With a flip of the file, Rachel looked over its contents.
"She was reared in the city and is a struggling artist. Her mother Gina, a former socialite with a fondness for gambling and ostentatious preferences, is the only family member she has to mention." Damien's smile turned into a slow, content one.
"Oh, I see. The young bird has escaped the nest and is now imprisoned in a golden cage."
Taking the file out of Rachel's hands, he looked through its contents with a sparkle in his eye.
"What about Liam, our friend? Are there any weaknesses in his defense that we could take advantage of?"
Rachel maintained a cautiously neutral look.
"Mr. Callahan appears to have a convoluted romantic past. In particular, his previous liaison with someone named Kyle Barrett." Damien's eyes narrowed and his head snapped up.
"Bryan Barrett? The brat from the trust fund who likes trouble?"
Rachel pursed her lips and nodded. "The same. Their relationship appears to have ended badly."
Damien's lips curled into a vile smile. "All right, all right. Our respected Mr. Callahan seems to have a few ghosts in his past."