Chapter 111 111

Chapter 111 111
CHAPTER 111

A TASTE OF WRATH

ISABELLA

When I felt hands clamped over my mouth before the panic and fear kicked in, I begged it to be Alexander. Because God knows I needed his lips on mine badly and maybe his dock in me.

But the universe was playing me for a joke.

The hand that clamped over my mouth was coldder than his, and the scent that hit my nostrils was familiar. But in no way farmiliar in the way I wanted it to be. My heart, which had stopped for one terrible second, now slammed back to life with a force that made my head throb.

Élise.

She released my mouth but kept her grip on my arm, shoving me further into the room as she clicked the door shut behind us. The room was dark, the curtains drawn. And the air… something about the air stale and unused.

I twisted out of her hold, stumbling back. My side ached from where I had been pulled, but my head was still thick from whatever Julien had given me.

"Are you out of your mind?" My voice came out shaky, but I didn't care. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

How the hell did Camille grow up with suck a mother!?

I don't know what part of me expected her to respond, but she didn't. She just stood there, blocking the door, her eyes glittering in the dim light. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, her jaw tight, giving me the only subtle hint that this bitch was in a very foul mood.

Before I could blink, her hand raised and connected generously with my cheek.

The sound of the slap tore through the silence, giving the walls life that it was once missing. The pain bloomed across my face, radiating down my neck. I stood there, stunned, my hand rising to touch my stinging skin.

"What—"

Before my words could become complete, when gave me another slap, and this one was harder than the last.

My ear rang.

I stared at her, my vision blurring at the edges as I tried to make sense of what was going on. "What the fu— what did I do to you?"

"You know exactly what you did." Her voice came out low and controlled, but there was something underneath it. Something wild. "That's what you get for fucking my husband while comforting my daughter.”

Ex-husband bitch…

But I didn't say it out loud because my blood almost instantly went cold.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course a whore would never know what you're talking about." She stepped closer. "I've seen the way he looks at you, the way you look at him, the way he came running when you fell down those stairs like the world was ending. Remember I told you I see all?" She laughed, the sound exactly like something out of a villain's story. "Because of you, he almost killed me. He wrapped his hands around my throat in front of my own daughter and I'm sure you were standing there pretending to be innocent.”

What the hell is all these accusations!? What the hell is even going on!?

I shook my head. "You're wrong."

"Am I?" She grabbed my arm, her nails digging into my skin. "Am I wrong, Isabella?"

I tried to pull away, but she held on tighter, making sure she drew blood.

"Let go of me."

"Not until you admit it."

"There's nothing to admit."

She released me abruptly, giving me a chance toale for the door.

A very terrible mistake from my end.

Before I could grab the handle of the door, her hand fisted my hair. I gasped as she yanked, pulling me across the room. My feet stumbled and my shoulder connected with the edge of a table. Pain exploded through my side.

I fell to the floor, my hand pressing against my ribs. The room spun, making me look up, observing the room for the first time.

It was empty. There was no personal items. No photos, no clothes, the bed was bare and the dresser wiped clean. It was an unused guestroom and definitely a place no one would check.

Élise stood over me, her chest heaving, and for the first time since I knew her, her smile was gone.

"You think I'm joking?" She crouched down, her face inches from mine. "You think I can't hurt you because Alexander has you under some sort of spell?"

My heart was pounding and my side was throbbing. But I lifted my chin.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said again. "I'm not sleeping with Alexander. He's Camille's father, that's disgusting."

Her eyes searched mine. I held her gaze, even though my hands were shaking. Then she grabbed me by the hair and lifted me off the floor.

“Listen to me carefully,” she said, pullingynear closer to her mouth. “You can be a whore and pretend you're not the worse betrayer of the century. But for your own sake, stay away from Alexander and hope I don't find out anything else.”

I winced, turning to hold her gaze. Them she released me.

"Get out," she said.

I didn't move.

"I said get out."

I pushed myself up, my side screaming in protest. I walked to the door, keeping my eyes on her. My hand was on the handle when she spoke again.

“Stupid whore," she said quietly.

I didn't answer. I opened the door and walked out.

The hallway was empty. I leaned against the wall, pressing my hand against my side. My face was burning, my ribs ached and my head was pounding.

I needed to find Alexander. I needed to tell him what happened and maybe tell him to tell her to stay the fuck away from me or—

"Izzy?"

Camille's voice. She was standing at the end of the hallway, a cup of coffee in her hand, her eyes wide.

"What happened to your face?"

I touched my cheek to see it was wet. But it wasn't tears. It was blood.