Chapter 24: Fear
Kian leaned forward, tapping sharply on the partition glass. "Driver."
"Yes, Mr. Carter?"
"Call the airport," Kian ordered, his voice rapid and tight. "Tell them to prepare the private jet for a flight at sunrise. Get a crew ready. We’re leaving for the island property in the morning."
He wasn’t running away.
That’s what he told himself. He was simply taking Isabella somewhere safe... somewhere far away from the city, away from Aaron’s reach, away from the news and the press.
Once they were alone on the quiet island, surrounded by warm blue water and palm trees, she would relax.
She would forget about the scandal. She would remember how much she loved him, and everything would go back to how it used to be.
By the time Kian reached the estate, the hall was quiet.
He walked straight up the stairs, dismissing the guards posted at the end of the hall, and unlocked the master bedroom door.
Inside, the room was dimly lit by a single bedside lamp. Isabella was sitting on the edge of a small sofa near the far window. She wasn’t moving.
She was just staring blankly toward the floor, her hands resting uselessly in her lap. In the soft light, she looked tiny, thin, and terribly fragile.
A sharp pang of guilt hit Kian’s chest, but he quickly buried it.
She was just being stubborn.
He closed the door quietly behind him and walked over, slipping off his jacket.
"Bella?"
Isabella didn’t look up. She didn’t move a muscle.
Kian sat down beside her on the sofa. The cushion sank under his weight, and he watched her body instantly go stiff.
He reached out, wrapping his arm gently around her thin shoulders, pulling her against his side.
She didn’t fight him, but she didn’t lean into him either. She felt like a wooden doll in his arms.
"The maids told me you didn’t eat dinner," Kian whispered, his voice soft, trying to sound as warm and normal as possible.
He smoothed a strand of hair back from her forehead. "You can’t keep doing this, Bella. You need your strength. I don’t want you getting sick."
"I’m not hungry," she said. Her voice was flat, empty of any life.
"You have to eat something," he insisted gently, pressing a kiss against her temple.
She stiffened even more, her jaw tight. Kian felt the quiet rejection sting his pride, but he pushed the anger down. "Listen to me. We’re leaving tomorrow morning."
Isabella turned her head slightly toward him, her blind eyes wide. "Leaving?"
"Yes," Kian smiled, trying to sound cheerful.
"I’ve arranged the jet. We’re going to the private estate on the southern coast. The one with the quiet beach you love so much. Just you and me. No reporters, no guards hovering over us, no distractions. We can stay there as long as you like."
Instead of the excitement she used to show whenever he brought up trips, a look of pure, cold terror washed over Isabella’s face.
"No..." she whispered, her hands tightening into small fists against her lap. "No, Kian, please... I don’t want to go."
Kian’s smile vanished. The warm tone in his voice vanished with it, replaced by a low, quiet edge that made the air in the room feel instantly colder.
"What did you just say?" he asked softly.
Isabella felt the sudden change in his energy.
The terrifying, quiet danger in his tone hung over her like a dark cloud. Her heart began to hammer frantically against her ribs. She swallowed hard, shrinking back against the sofa.
"N-nothing..." she gasped out softly, her voice shaking. "Nothing."
Kian watched her cower, his dark eyes fixed on her pale, frightened face.
A strange, twisted feeling bloomed deep in his chest.
A part of him hated that she was terrified of him, but another, darker part, the part that needed to control every inch of her life, felt a deep rush of satisfaction.
As long as she was afraid, she would stay. As long as she was afraid, she wouldn’t dare run.
He pulled her back into his arms, pressing his lips against her cheek, kissing down the line of her neck while she sat frozen, nodding submissively to whatever he said.
"Good girl," he murmured into her hair.
"Everything is going to be fine."
...
The next morning, the estate was bustling with quiet activity.
Kian was up early, pacing around the master bedroom as the staff packed a few small bags for the trip.
Isabella sat on the edge of the high mattress, wearing a simple wool coat over her dress, her hands resting quietly in her lap.
She looked entirely numb, waiting for whatever was coming next.
Kian checked his watch. It was nearly seven in the morning. The jet was prepped, the car was waiting downstairs, and in less than an hour, they would be in the air.
He walked over to her, picking up a small bag. "Are you ready, Bella?"
Before she could answer, Kian’s phone rang loudly in his pocket.
He frowned, pulling it out. It was his chief executive officer from the main corporate office.
Kian clicked the button, bringing the phone to his ear. "What is it? I told you I was taking time off—"
"Mr. Carter, you need to turn on the news right now," the man’s voice was frantic, breathless with panic.
"There’s been a massive explosion at the primary harbor construction site. Three support structures collapsed, and two of our shipping vessels are currently underwater. The federal inspectors are already on site, and the board is demanding an emergency meeting in twenty minutes. If you aren’t there, they’re going to freeze the company’s trading stock!"
Kian froze.
The harbor project was the single largest asset under the Kingston umbrella, worth billions of dollars.
A total collapse like that wasn’t just an accident; it was a catastrophic blow that could tear the entire business apart overnight.
"Kian?" Isabella’s soft, hesitant voice broke through his shock.
Kian slowly lowered the phone, his face pale, his jaw set in a hard, tight line. He looked at Isabella sitting on the bed, quiet, helpless, and completely at his mercy.
If he left now to handle the crisis, he would be leaving her behind. But if he ignored the board, he could lose the entire Kingston empire.
His eyes darted toward the bedroom door.
’It will only take two hours,’ he reasoned frantically with himself. ’Just two hours to clear the board, lock down the press, and get back here.’
He turned toward the door, calling out sharply. "Luke!"
Luke stepped into the room immediately, bowing his head. "Sir?"
Kian grabbed Luke by his collar, dragging the larger man close until their faces were inches apart. Kian’s dark eyes were burning with a desperate, lethal wildness.
"I have to go to the main office," Kian hissed, his voice dangerously low.
"Double the guard around the house. Post four men outside this door, four at the front gate, and two on the balcony. No one enters this room. No one leaves. If she so much as steps near a window, you lock it."
"Yes, Mr. Carter," Luke said quickly, his face rigid.