Chapter 44 Chapter 0044

Chapter 44 Chapter 0044
•ISABELLA•

I was deep in a restless sleep when the sharp sound of a door slamming somewhere outside jolted me awake.

I gasped as I shot upright in bed, my pillow damp with tears and sweat from nightmares that had followed me even into unconsciousness.

For a moment, I didn't know where I was, but then the dull ache in my head returned, and the events from earlier came rushing back with brutal clarity.

Tom.

The mere thought of him made my stomach twist. I hated him in a way that felt permanent, carved into my bones, because of what he had done to me.

He had shattered something inside me that I didn’t know how to repair.

My heart felt broken beyond healing, and I couldn't scrub away the feeling of being violated and dirty no matter how many times I bathed or changed my clothes.

I wanted to disappear, to escape this place, and to make sure that he would never have the chance to abduct me or touch me again.

I forced myself to get dressed, my hands trembling as I pulled on fresh clothes.

I had barely turned toward the bed to sit down and gather my thoughts when a scream pierced through the hallway.

The sound froze me in place because the voice was painfully familiar.

My father.

The memory of Tom’s threat returned instantly. He had told me he would bring my father here because I was being difficult.

My heart began to race violently as I ran to the door and tried to twist the handle open, but it wouldn’t budge.

It was locked.

“Tom, open this door!” I screamed, slamming my fists against the wood as tears streamed down my face.

I kept banging until my hands burned and throbbed, until my strength gave out and I had to lean my forehead against the door while sobbing.

Listening to my father’s pain and being unable to help him was torture, and the helplessness felt like it was crushing my chest.

Eventually, exhaustion dragged me down, and I slid to the floor with my back against the door.

The sudden click of the lock startled me awake, and I almost toppled forward when the door swung open.

“Oh, Bee,” Tom said in a tone that made my skin crawl as he stepped inside and shut the door behind him. “I have a surprise for you. Don’t you want to see your father?”

I pushed myself up from the floor and glared at him, anger burning through the fog of exhaustion.

“Why are you doing this, Tom? Haven’t you done enough by bringing me here and changing everything about me?” My voice broke. “You even assaulted me.”

He sighed as if I were the unreasonable one, then walked closer until he was towering over me.

“We talked about this. You know I love you, and if I have to make difficult decisions to keep you in my life, then I will do whatever it takes to make sure you remain mine.”

“After what you did, I will never forgive you,” I said, my voice low. “If you don’t release my father and me, you will regret it.”

He studied me for a second before letting out a soft laugh and lifting my chin with his finger.

“How brave of you. But if you try anything against me, I will make you regret it in ways you can't imagine.”

I slapped his hand away, disgust curling inside me. “You are pathetic. I regret the day I met you.”

His expression hardened. “You and I will never be apart. I will make you fall in love with me again if I have to.”

“You will be dead before that happens.”

He leaned closer, his voice turning cold. “If you want your father to live, you will do as I say. No one is coming for you. Antonio will never find you, and you are not stepping outside this building.”

The mention of Antonio felt like a blade twisting in my chest. Tears burned my eyes, but I refused to look away. Before I could say anything else, Tom walked out and locked the door behind him.



That night I cried until my throat felt raw, and even in the days that followed he made sure I felt his control.

He withheld any information about my father, and the uncertainty gnawed at me more than hunger ever could.

After a week of pleading and being ignored, I approached him again. “I would like to see my father, please.”

He rolled his eyes but eventually agreed. “Five minutes. That is all you get. If you try anything, you will regret it.”

He led me down a narrow hallway and opened a door before stepping aside. I rushed in the second he moved.

My father was lying on the floor, asleep or unconscious, and his face was swollen and bruised.

His body was covered in marks that made my knees weaken. I fell beside him, my heart shattering at the sight.

“Dad?” I whispered, my voice trembling.

His eyes slowly opened, and when he saw me, a faint smile appeared. He lifted his hand with visible effort and placed it gently on my cheek.

For the first time in years, I saw not the mistakes he had made, but the man who had once carried me on his shoulders and worked endlessly to provide for our family.

“Bella,” he murmured.

“I am so sorry,” I cried. “This is my fault. I should’ve listened to you. I should’ve stayed away.”

He shook his head slightly. “None of this is your fault. I am the one who let you down. I promised your mother I would protect you, and I didn’t. I am sorry.”

“It is okay, Daddy. I forgive you,” I muttered, forcing a smile through my tears as I stood up.

“Bella, what are you doing?” he asked weakly.

“It is going to be okay,” I assured him, even though I had no certainty of that.

But I couldn't bear seeing my mother in that state. He was slowly dying and I couldn't let him.

When I stepped back into the hallway, Tom was waiting.

“Well, that was quick,” he said with a smirk. “Did you fix your family issues?”

I met his gaze. “Let him go, and I will stop fighting you. We can leave this place together and start over somewhere new.”

He looked surprised, searching my face for hesitation. “If I let him go, you stay with me without resistance?”

“Yes,” I replied. “Let him go, and I will be with you.”

A slow smile spread across his face. “He will be home before sunrise.”

Before I could react, he pulled me toward him and pressed his lips against mine.

I forced myself not to recoil, not to show the disgust twisting inside me, because my father’s freedom was more important than my pride.

When he lifted me into his arms and carried me toward his room, I let my body go still, my mind focused only on one thing.

My father would be free.