chapter 11:Isobel

"You can rest go rest. I have some work to do." Bastard! How the heck do I manage to "rest" after what he just did to me? Treating me like I was some cheap tart that didn't have any feelings whatsoever. How dare he! I seethed as I jumped in the hot shower in the en suite bathroom of the master bedroom. Was this how he treated his women? Chantel had simply had high praises for Hugo, but seeing how he'd been acting towards me for the past week, it was either he disliked me

as a person or only saw me as a sex object.

Letting all six jets warm my body, I pondered harder about his immediate change of attitude. Well, he had become a total ass when I'd declined him about what he wanted. Therefore, he was after vaginal sex, which I had clearly stated in the contract—that we both had agreed to and signed—wasn't part of the deal.

Remembering that next morning of negotiation, I distinctly recalled everything that had happened that day.

"THERE WILL BE no vaginal sex. In the circumstances that Mr. Hugo Xavier won't honor this binding agreement, he will immediately dismiss Ms. Callas from the six months contract, freeing her from all debts her father, Mr. Constantin Callas, accrued," the lawyer, who had thick, black-rimmed glasses, said out loud enough for Hugo and I to hear him clearly. "Unless, of course, Ms. Isobel Callas asked of it herself, of her own free will."

"After six months, all debts will be cleared," one of them said out loud, giving me a dead look.

"There is a mandatory monthly health check-up that is non-negotiable." The oldest of the four lawyers eyed me sharply. "After today, you will see a doctor that will be assigned to you for the duration of your stay. The doctor will provide contraception to prevent pregnancy. This is also non-negotiable."

Didn't he just hear what the other lawyer had stated minutes ago?

"Monsieur, there won't be a possibility for that, I can assure you." I protested as I gave Hugo a questioning look, hoping he'd change the terms.

"It's non-negotiable, Ms. Callas," the uptight lawyer reinstated.

Resigned and feeling helpless, I made a small nod. "Okay, I'll do it."

There was no doubt in my mind that Hugo covered all aspects when it came to his health and unwanted pregnancies. Consequently, when I went to go see the doctor and had my physical check-up, I wasn't a bit surprised that regular, good ole pills didn't suffice; instead,

I was to get injections because pills were unreliable, apparently.

HUGO HAD THE UPPER HAND. But even though he had made me tremble with his skillful touch tonight, I wasn't going to give in to him. I was Damen's and not his. His little tantrum of not getting what he wanted wouldn't cut it for me. It was best he knew that.

After my shower, I fell asleep waiting for him to come to bed. Since this was the main suite, I had thought he'd be sharing with me, but I was proven wrong the next day. I woke up with the other side of the bed untouched, which only led me to believe that he went somewhere else to satiate his needs.

After I got ready, showered and primed to face him, a soft knock came at the door.

"You may come in," I murmured as I applied gloss on my lips.

The butler from last night appeared when the door opened, clearing his throat to get my attention. "Madam, Monsieur Xavier gives his sincerest apologies for not being here to join you for breakfast. I'm afraid he had some private business to attend to. He said that you can take the rest of the day off, and if you're willing, there's a spa appointment ready for you at your convenience."

Private business, I acidly thought while I made a tight smile towards his little minion. "Thank you. I'll be sure to consider it."

When the butler left, closing the door behind him, I threw my gloss back into my purse, feeling his barbed rejection once more.

Huffing, I gathered myself to go upstairs to eat breakfast. The sun was already beating hot, and it wasn't even ten in the morning. Taking the same seat from yesterday, my eyes scanned the small, delicious feast before me. Through his endlessly cold attributes, I couldn't fault Hugo when it came to feeding me well. Even when he wasn't around, he always had someone to bring me a meal.

"Mind if I join you?" A voice from behind made me snap my head towards the newcomer. Well, what a surprise.

"Of course, there's enough to feed an army."

"That's kind of you." Chantel strode towards me before taking the opposing seat and then poured herself a cup of coffee from the traditional French pressed glass. She didn't speak until she finished pouring, giving me a friendly look. "You must be wondering what I'm doing here?" Her brow rose as she pulled out a cigarette, lighting it seductively as I watched in silence, in awe of her confident grace.

"You're here because Hugo sent you," I provided the answer without taking my eyes off her.

"Non." She drew from her cigarette before tilting her head to the side, blowing off the smoke through her bright red, matte colored, stained lips. She had the typical French savoir-faire, one I truly admired in most of the women that trolled around The Riviera. Looking at me thoughtfully, she spoke again. "So, how are you finding everything so far? Staying at the villa? Hugo himself?"

This was the weirdest conversation I'd had with anyone to date. "I'm comfortable living in the villa, of course." The villa, which was aptly named Villa Blanc, was suitable for royalty. Whomever would detest that would be insane. "Hugo... well... I'm sure he's just being himself."

"Are you saying he's a jerk?" The word jerk rolled with a heavy accent.

"Something like that," I replied as I reached for a croissant and pulled it apart. "Is he always so... rude?"

She thanked the butler for bringing her an ashtray before looking at me again. "Hugo is one of a kind. He's forward and cuts to the chase—a trait I admired most after being a mistress to a married man for five years."

Whoa.

Swallowing the piece of bread that got stuck in my throat, I gave her a frown. I had always wondered about my father and his women, and I had never really met anyone who openly admitted being a home wrecker.

She made a nonchalant shrug before taking a sip of her hot drink. "Don't look so shocked. You'll be surprised how most women around here are."

Good to know that tidbit. "Oh..."

"Hugo Xavier is a good man. I consider him a friend, like family, even if that doesn't make sense to you..." She paused looking away. "Sherry mentioned that you're only with us for six months?" She gazed back at me with a raised brow.

Her immediate shift of the subject made me tense. "Six months and not a day more."

She made a nod before reaching out to touch my hand that was on the table. "You seem like a nice girl—maybe too young to handle a man like Hugo Xavier, but he chose you." Her brown eyes sought mine. "He's enigmatic and an excellent lover. He will shower you with everything and will say beautiful words that will make you feel hopeless, but I warn you, never fall for him. You don't want that kind of life." There was something ominous with her warning, as if she wasn't telling me the entire truth.

"Of course I won't." Did she think I was that desperate? I loved Damen. "There's no risk of that," I assured her as I gave her a straight, pointed look. "Besides, Hugo might be handsome, but trust me when I say that I have given my heart a long time ago."

"That's reassuring to hear, Isobel."

If I didn't see the warmth in her eyes, I would've assumed this woman was out to get me because she herself was in love with Hugo. However, there was something in her expression that told me her coming here to warn me had been done with good intentions, thus I went with my gut, truly believing her.

"Do you have any plans today? I have a spa appointment, and it would be lovely if you could join me."

"Sounds like a plan. I'd love to join you." She beamed at me before taking another cigarette out and lighting it with gusto.

We spent a few hours at the spa getting massages, facials, and manicures. During that time, we chatted about our lives with a few helpings of Rosè.

I found out she was twenty-eight and had fled Paris when things hadn't panned out with her affair with the married man that had lasted for five years. Chantel was apparently in college when she dropped out and had left Paris to heal her wounds. As much as I tried to pry the name of the man in question, she would make this small laugh and brush the subject off. So I abandoned the subject, leaving me wondering about her life.

In return, I spoke about Damen—my first love, and the love of my life. Though she didn't ask much about my deal with Hugo, her empathizing about my situation made me feel a little better. Apart from Father, it was great to know there was another human being I could openly talk about it with since my father was such a coldhearted bastard. I didn't even doubt that, after this deal, he'd go on thinking this was simply a mandatory duty as his daughter. He wouldn't dare say thank you because that would be beyond his capabilities. Bemoaning about my unfortunate father wouldn't get me anywhere, however, therefore I left him out of the picture and vaguely described him as a non- parent, parent.

The rest of our time, we didn't speak much about Hugo or his history. It was spent about her reminiscing over the beauty of Paris and how she'd love to go back someday. When she was ready to face her wounded past, she'd make that trip to memory lane.

Entering the vast foyer, Chantel and I had just arrived at the villa when the house vibrated with sounds—and I meant heavy moans and pounding.

The echo of a woman's screeching and screams as she was being pleasured made me stop in my tracks. Standing in the middle of the circular foyer, I stared ahead in the vast, freshly waxed, marbled hallway, mystified and visibly in shock. There was no doubt that it was Hugo's skillful efforts that made the woman shout to the rooftops. And since I was with Chantel, the woman singing his praises was Sherry.

Was this an insult to me? Maybe I was overreacting, but I somehow felt offended, because last night he blatantly dismissed me like I was some rubbish.

Chantel came up behind me. "Have you ever seen him in action?" Her question made me frown.

Shaking my head, I glanced back at her, wondering what she was thinking about.

She winked at me before taking my hand. "Come, he usually doesn't mind."

"Usually doesn't mind?" I parroted like a frightened idiot. "Hell, no. I'm fine."

Was she out of her loony mind? What she was suggesting was shameless. Besides, if I said yes, what did that make me? A very curious individual? My mind kindly provided.

Her hold tightened, pulling me farther into the house while I tried to stop her, but she didn't care. Maybe because she had no clue about some of my secretly hidden insecurities when it came to Hugo.

"You're such a shy girl. We can hide if you want." She kept on pulling us farther in, and the sounds became harsher. It was much more profound, echoing against the walls, and I couldn't help that I was getting goose bumps from Sherry's animal dying-like sounds.

"Come on, you have to see."

Dammit. As much as I hated to admit it, I was beyond curious.

"And you promise he won't see me?"

"He won't if you don't make a sound..."

Feeling like the ultimate peeping tom, the temptation of seeing him in action overrode rational thought. The two hadn't even bothered shutting the double doors in his library. They'd simply gone at it, uncaring of the helpers and other people that could easily witness them mate like rabbits—well, more like Hugo not having sex, but fucking to be precise. Yes. I hadn't known what fucking meant until that very moment.

"Look at how he thrusts. Only a man with enough muscular strength on his lower back and arms and a great sense of rhythm can thrust perfectly like that," said the woman, whisper-hissing into my ear, who thought Hugo was the ultimate sex god. She'd admitted as much.

As much as I would like to quietly think of a snarky comment to make myself feel better, I couldn't help noticing the power he exuded with each thrust. The only thing I could think about was him thrusting and how it would feel to be spread eagled on his antique desk, wide- eyed, gasping for his next invasion, feeling thrilled and utterly consumed by one man—Hugo.

"Watch how he dominates. He makes you come undone. With one touch, you just want to do anything to please him," she went on with her words of awe and worship.

I couldn't fault her. No wonder she was fine with this arrangement. A part of me wondered what it would be like to have him like this. At the same time, I knew my imagination would never turn into reality. I was a controlled woman who didn't give in to her urges of sexuality. I wasn't carnal; I was in love with Damen. No more, no less.