Chapter 12 Unfasten the Night
Thalia invited her to the department gathering, hoping to coax Isabella back into something resembling her old self.
The party was set at an upscale hotel. Isabella had no intention of going, but Thalia's enthusiasm left no room for refusal. She looped her arm through Isabella's as they entered the private room, her voice soft and reassuring. "This dinner wouldn't be happening without your designs. Of course you have to be here."
The room buzzed with chatter and laughter. Isabella found a corner seat and settled into it, letting the noise wash over her like static—present but irrelevant.
"Everyone, I'd like to introduce someone!" Thalia clapped her hands, drawing all eyes to the front of the room. "This is our newly returned vice director, Thomas Spencer. From now on, we'll be working closely with Mr. Spencer."
Isabella's breath hitched. She lifted her head and found herself staring into a pair of warm, smiling eyes.
Thomas stood in a tailored suit, his demeanor calm and refined—nothing like William's volatile edge. He raised his glass in a polite toast, greeting his new colleagues with practiced ease. Then, slowly, he made his way toward her. His gaze settled on her startled face, and he smiled.
"We meet again."
Isabella hadn't expected this. If he was the vice director here, did that mean this company had ties to the Spencer Group?
When she didn't respond, Thomas took the seat beside her, his tone gentle. "You don't look well. Are you feeling all right? Did you ever get that injury checked out?"
The sudden concern threw her off balance. His words were direct, sincere, without a trace of ulterior motive.
It took Isabella a moment to unclench, to let her guard drop just slightly. "Mr. Spencer, thank you for asking. I'm fine."
Thomas smiled. "No need to be so formal. We're not in the office. You can call me Thomas."
Isabella said nothing. He continued on his own. "I've seen your latest design. It has a vitality to it—something that catches the eye and holds it."
At the mention of her work, Isabella softened, a faint warmth flickering in her expression.
That moment—captured perfectly—landed in Juniper's line of sight. She was accompanying William to a business dinner in another room. A sly smile curved her lips as she hurried over to him.
"Mr. Spencer, isn't that Isabella in that booth over there? And the man sitting next to her—that's Thomas, isn't it? They look so comfortable together. I've never seen her smile at you like that."
"Come to think of it, they danced together on the yacht, didn't they? I heard people saying they made a lovely pair."
"Of course, Thomas did jump into the ocean to save her. Maybe she's just grateful."
William's pupils contracted. The temperature around him plummeted.
Why the hell was she sitting in a place like this, eating expensive food, laughing with another man?
Rage surged through him, white-hot and blinding. He strode across the hall and into the private room, ignoring the startled looks from the guests. His hand clamped down on Isabella's wrist, yanking her to her feet.
"You're coming with me."
Pain shot through her arm. Isabella tried to pull away, twisting against his grip.
It was the first time she'd resisted him. That only made him angrier. His fingers tightened until she thought her bones might crack.
Thomas stood, frowning, reaching out to intervene. "William, calm down."
"Stay out of this." William's eyes were bloodshot, his voice feral. "She's mine. You don't get a say."
He dragged Isabella down the corridor, hauling her into an empty private room at the far end. The door slammed shut behind them with a crash that rattled her teeth.
William grabbed her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. His breath was hot and ragged against her face. "You're disgusting. Sneaking around behind my back to seduce Thomas? Are you that desperate for a man to fill the void?"
Isabella's body went cold. The man in front of her was a stranger—twisted, vicious, unrecognizable.
"I didn't…"
"Didn't?" William sneered. His fingers hooked into the collar of her blouse and ripped it open.
The fabric tore with a sharp sound, exposing the thin bra beneath. Cold air rushed in, and Isabella shivered violently, instinctively trying to cover herself. William seized her wrists, pinning them in place.
"If you're so eager, I'll give you what you want."
He buried his face in her neck, biting down hard, leaving a trail of bruises and teeth marks. Isabella struggled, tears streaming down her face, her voice breaking into fragments.
"William, let go… your touch makes me sick."
The words detonated something inside him. His fury exploded. He tore away what remained of her clothing, spinning her around and slamming her against the cold wall.
"Sick? You didn't say that when you crawled into my bed and forced me to marry you. Remember this—you're alive, and that means you suffer."
His hands were brutal as he yanked at her waistband, dragging her pants down. The icy air against her bare skin filled her with dread. William shoved her legs apart, one hand fumbling with his belt.
Isabella realized what was coming. She shook her head frantically, tears blurring her vision.
"William, please… don't…"
He ignored her. One hand pressed her head down, the other lifted her hips. Then he thrust into her, hard and without warning.
Isabella's pupils dilated. Pain tore through her like a blade, splitting her in two.
One half was searing agony.
The other half was nausea so violent she thought she might vomit.
She bit down on her lip until she tasted blood.
But it wasn't enough for him. William grabbed a fistful of her hair and threw her onto the couch, lifting her legs and spreading them wide, exposing her completely.
Humiliation and revulsion crashed over her in waves. William stared at her deliberately, drinking in her shame.
Isabella tried to cover her face. William pulled off his tie and bound her wrists, forcing her arms above her head. He gripped her chin, holding her gaze as he entered her again, pounding into her with reckless abandon.
The couch shook beneath them, creaking with each thrust. Isabella stared up at the ceiling light, watching it blur and fracture.
When she didn't make a sound, William lowered his mouth to her chest, sinking his teeth into her skin. Bite marks bloomed across her body, one after another.
She thought, Maybe I'll die here tonight.
A knock sounded at the door. A voice called out, urgent and worried. "Isabella, are you in there?"
It was Thalia.
William saw the panic flare in Isabella's eyes. A cruel smile tugged at his lips.
"Scared? What if I opened that door right now and let your boss see me fucking you? What do you think she'd say?"
Fear finally broke through Isabella's numbness. She shook her head, her voice hoarse and shattered. "William… please… don't…"
Her words came out in a ragged sob, thick with desperation.
She couldn't let Thalia see her like this—couldn't let the woman who believed in her witness this degradation.
"If you want me to keep that door closed, spread your legs wider."
He wanted to humiliate her, to grind her dignity into dust.
The knocking continued. Isabella trembled as she obeyed, parting her thighs and letting him take what he wanted.