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Forty–Six
Chapter 46
Isabella’s POV
Immediately he left, I started to cry again. I was never the type to excessively give into my emotions but I had already cried in front of him so why not let it all out now so the next time I face him, I’d be stronger? Or at least I hope I would be stronger. I should be, shouldn’t I? Was it possible to cry out all the tears you needed to shed in advance?
I think I was and still am in disbelief about what is happening to me right now. I know we have barely had a moment where we expressed affection towards one another but still, how could Alexander suddenly be so cold… be so frightening.
I know I keep asking myself this question but could everything truly be a lie? Could someone who kept me by his side for two days when I had been knocked unconscious, fed me when I woke up, drove me home, and employed a maid to help me at home since he thought I should not stress myself truly have hated me so much all this while?
Had there been signs I had not seen because if I had seen something I definitely wouldn’t have attended the ball at all, talk less of actually expecting him to accept me there in front of everyone. If there is one thing I would not do, it’s knowingly giving room for myself to be humiliated.
I looked at the tray of food in front of me. I was no longer interested in eating it anyway. The hunger had burned until it burned out and now the emptiness I felt wasn’t due to lack of food.
I was in a place I did not know with a mate that may or may not be planning to kill me since he apparently never regarded the bond. He had
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already rejected me after all, considering the fact that I could not feel the effects of the bond radiating off him. I raised my legs unto the bed and lay down again.
I was still in my dress from the ball and thankfully it was not that uncomfortable to lie in even though I still felt quite stupid in it at the moment. It depicted every bit of a damsel in distress, the princess locked up in the tower, the classic Disney princess movie.
Only that I doubted anyone was coming to save me considering that the one who was supposed to be my knight in shining armor was the one keeping me captive. I guess I wouldn’t be given a chance to shower and change out of these clothes.
I lay there staring at the ceiling while the fan dried my tears away. I wondered why Alexander was keeping me here, where I was since it definitely wasn’t the pack house, and how long he planned to keep me here. I had just started to drift into light slumber when the door swung open and Alexander walked in.
I sat up quickly, staring at him expectantly. Maybe he was here to explain? To apologize and say he did not know what had come over him? To let me go? He glanced at me and then at the food.
“If you must cry shouldn’t you at least have energy in your body to do it? Are you really not going to eat?”
My shoulders deflated instantly. So much for my silly hopes. I bit my lip and shook my head. How did he expect me to eat when nothing seemed right? I’m still considering the possibility of being in a very long and vivid dream.
He clapped twice and two of the ridiculously uniformed maids walked in and carried the food away. “It should be too cold to eat now anyway. Dinner would be served later. Maybe you’ll eat then.”
He moved towards me and I flinched but I doubt he even noticed it.
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Grabbing my wrist, he pulled out a key from his pocket before uncuffing me and letting my hand drop. I immediately caught it with my other hand and began to rub my wrist. It was indeed slightly bruised and the skin was a dark pink with a promise to turn purple sooner or later.
I winced both from the pain and the thought of such an ugly bruise marring my skin. I guess the fact that I could still be quite vain right now showed that my mental health was still intact.
“Alexander-”
“Don’t think I’m releasing you and don’t you dare attempt to escape. The results of either of those would be drastic so stay put.”
“Alexander…if you would just tell me why you’re doing this…talk to me, I beg you. Alexander!” I called out when he did not answer me and only made to leave. “If you don’t let me go or at least explain what is going
on I
will not eat! Even when dinner is served I will not eat, how’s that for the baby huh? Do you want our baby to die?!” I screamed at him and finally, he stopped.
I breathed heavily, my hand still wrapped around my other wrist as I stared at his now tense back.
Did he care for the baby after all? Maybe there was hope in that. And then my face fell, what if he was just keeping me here until I produced the child so he can finally do away with me? That was why he was so
interested in me eating and nothing else, wasn’t it? He finally turned around to face me and I inched back into the headboard at the look on his
face.
“You’re pregnant?”
I stilled. Of all the things I expected to come out of his mouth, that had been the last thing I would’ve ever imagined. What on earth did he mean by that question? He knew about my pregnancy. I told him and it had pissed him off. We had an argument about it.
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All in all, there was no reason for him to be asking me that sort of question or for his face to hold such genuine confusion and he actually seemed to be waiting for an answer. How do I make sense of this? Who was going to help me make this make sense because I certainly couldn’t make sense of it myself?
I glared at him, “What do you mean by that question?”
“Are you pregnant?!” He demanded this time and I did not know whether to cry or laugh. I got up from the bed and went to stand in front of him. I looked up at the man I used to call my mate but something felt awfully wrong and it wasn’t the first time either.
I looked at him more closely now. This was not the first time I was noticing that his scent was different but I had previously brushed it off. Now, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to keep on brushing it off.
I took in his face, although he wasn’t behaving like himself, he still pretty much looked like himself. Except…there was something different about him. Had he been hypnotized or something? Not only was he not behaving like himself but he was also claiming not to remember something we had discussed about. Or was I the one that had lost my memory after passing out?
“Alexander,” I whispered and when he did not reply even though I was right in front of me, I called him again. louder this time and at the third time, I raised my fingers to graze his jaw as I called him when he suddenly grabbed my wrist and I yelped. It was the bruised one and he was not letting go.
“Alexander!” I screamed, tears filling up in my eyes both at the way he was squeezing my bruised wrist and at the vicious look in his eyes but mostly at the latter.
“STOP CALLING ME THAT!” He yelled and I jumped. “Don’t call me that, ever again. I’m fucking sick of it for goddess sake.”
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I trembled and he suddenly dropped my hand like it was a hot lid, throwing it to the side.
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“I–isn’t t–that your name?” I asked tentatively as chill after chill went down my spine. Was this some kind of personality disorder? I’ve heard that there are people like that. I think it’s called split personality or something and it’s the only thing I could describe what was happening right now with. He has been behaving alarmingly strangely ever since I woke up. he does not remember something significant I told him about and he was now telling me not to call him by his name.
And aren’t the other personalities in all those movies mostly violent? I took a step backward. Dear moon goddess, wherever you are, I don’t deserve this. I really don’t think I do. I thought as I took a step back.
“Who are you?” I asked jutting out my chin in false bravery.
He smirked devilishly, “I’m not Alexander. My name is Antonio.”
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