Tired.

There was no other word to use to describe her feeling at that moment. Slumping onto the brown leather couch, Isabella recalled with bitterness, the meeting she just had with the bank's representative.

The company was running more and more into debt and she was not seeing a way out soon. Grabbing her phone to check the time, Isabella realized it was almost time to go home.

Home.

That was another problem on its own. A problem she would deal with once she gets there but at that moment, she needed to work out a way to get her company out of the extraordinary debt it was in. Getting up, she walked towards her desk and dialed her secretary to come inside.

"Hey, Isa."

"Caleb." She sat slightly against the edge of the glass desk.

The blonde man walked towards her, his stride different because of some accident on his father's farm. Something that had to do with chickens or something. On seeing the look on her face, he sat back and made a whoosh-like sound, "I take it the meeting didn't go well."

"Things are actually worse. We can't get more loans anymore, we risk being closed down anytime soon." She faced him and asked, "What do I do Caleb? I have no idea. No one around wants to help. Nobody wants to form a meagre, they keep saying the business is old news."

"I know you can't bear losing this company, so we just have to try harder when it comes to saving the company. But Isabella, apart from some issues we have right here, you know where the main problem is."

Suddenly reminded of the burden waiting for her at home, heaviness befell her chest. "I am trying, Caleb. I am trying to get him to stop being so wasteful but he will not even listen to me."

"Leave him, Isabella. Why don't you just get rid of that man?"

The misery within her flashed through her face for some seconds, Isabella got up to hide it. "It is not that simple Caleb. I wish it were, but it is not. Forget that for now, what new ideas do you have to get us out of this mess? Cause the way we are going, by next week, more than ninety percent of the staff would be laid off."

Sighing, he uncrossed his leg, his hand went to his rough chin to scratch out some ideas, "There is this charity event happening next week Thursday."

"Okay?"

"It is going to be held in Hotel Achilles and you and I know the kind of people that hold events there."

"The rich part of this world. Go on." Isabella took her seat.

"I can get us an invite and we can maybe mingle with the crowd and who knows, someone might be willing to merge or buy us out of this situation."

A quick frown lighted Isabella's tired face. "Buy out? No. No, Caleb, I am not selling my company, I worked hard to convince my father to not sell this place to some stranger but to let me head it. So, no buying out."

"Oh." Caleb smiled apologetically. "I am sorry, I didn't mean it that way. Well, that is probably the only chance we have to get anything done about the debt."

"It is our only option, we just have to do it. Work on getting those invites and I will work on portraying the company in a good light."

"Okay. I guess that is settled. How much time do we have till the bank takes an action on closing us down?"

"A month," replied Isabella.

"Okay. Things are going to work in our favour at that event, I can feel it." Isabella just had to appreciate his optimism. Contrary to his bright declaration, Isabella was a bit unenthusiastic. She really was glad that she had Caleb, she was happy she had befriended someone like him.

"I guess it is time to go home," Isabella said and Caleb nodded, the chair making creaking sounds as he got up. "My regards to your father and get something done about your walk, you are starting to have a stride similar to that of the chicken that attacked you."

"Yeah, yeah. Goodnight Isa. Stay safe."

Safe.

She needed to hear​​​​​ that word. An image flashed in her head that caused her to grimace. She did need to hear that word.

~

The whole room smelt like alcohol and that was a bad thing already.

"Gabriel," Isabella gently called as she laid her bag and jacket on the nearest chair. The scent getting stronger as she walked, Isabella just had to wonder how many bottles he had.

The night before, she had counted close to fifteen bottles.

"Gabriel."

"What the hell are you shouting my name for?" The door that shielded their room from prying eyes slammed shut as Gabriel walked out, making a big deal out of the gentle manner she had called him.

Closing her eyes to prepare herself for the drama ahead, Isabella turned to face her husband of more than five years. Her husband that always got people asking; why are you with him?- anytime they were seen together. "Gabriel, why is the house reeking of alcohol?"

"Who are you to question me?" The tall man walked towards her, a scowl on his face. Grabbing her elbow forcefully, he continued, "This is my house and I can do whatever I want to in this place. Is that clear?" Isabella nodded quietly as the monstrous flare of his nostrils caught her attention. "I fucking asked if that is clear!" he roared.

Almost shuddering to shake away the growing fear within her, Isabella replied quietly, "Yes, Gabriel."

His hand pressed further into her skin to her discomfort, but she stood there anyway, not a complaint on her face. "You are my wife not my boss and it should stay that way."

Forcefully, he retracted his hold and that caused the woman's petite figure to stagger, her curvy buttocks almost kissing the brown tiles if not for the remaining stamina she had within her.

Her tired eyes trailing Gabriel as he walked to wherever he was going in only boxers and a white singlet, Isabella wondered whether to ask him if he had eaten.

"Oh, by the way, the money you hid in your clothes, I have spent it. So don't bother looking for what is not lost."

She was not asking him any shit about eating.

The feeling of anger which she wished to keep at bay, couldn't help but wrap her soul and she sternly questioned the man, saying, "What on earth are you talking about, Gabriel? That money was supposed to last us for the next six months. I was just about to take it to the bank. How could you just..." A deep breath followed. Trying not to visibly grit her teeth, Isabella continued, "What on earth did you spend it on?"

Gabriel shrugged, his hand going on to scratch the region just above his thigh. "Things. Listen, don't beat yourself up too much, you will get more money. That's why you are working."

Her hands were fisted and the fury inside her was almost leading to tears. "You were not supposed to touch it, Gabriel."

"Listen," the man's anger re-surfaced and Isabella took a step back even though he wasn't that close to avoid him getting physical, "this is what you get since you refused to give me a son."

"Gabriel..."

"Give me a son and I will stop wasting your stuff." Isabella had heard that phrase so many times, her ears were almost bleeding at that point. Now feeling empty, Isabella allowed her weakness to get to her. She fell onto the chilly ground and Gabriel wore an amused smile in response before he said, "Don't wait up tonight, I will be out having fun."

"You are going to gamble again, aren't you?"

If he heard her, he did not show. As the door of the bedroom slammed from within, Isabella felt her shoulders slump. The heaviness in her chest was so much, that it seemed it had found somewhere else in her soul to extend to.

If only a miracle could happen, she thought as she got up to find something to eat. Because at that stage a miracle was just what she needed to get out of her mess.

Charles pinched the bridge of his nose. The past few days had been a mental hell for him. Apart from his norm of attending meeting after meetings, the fact that he was so close yet far from his real family members tortured him.

And there was the fact that he had not found a suitable time to devote to searching for a wife.

He needed a break, he needed some sort of entertainment. At that moment, in order to find his plans working out perfectly, he needed a clear mind.

Charles picked up his phone and called his secretary.

"Sir, you called me," Miss Kane said as she walked in with careful steps, her dress quite provocative as always.

"Yes," he poured himself some whiskey, his one and loyal company, "are there any events in town that I can attend? I need a break."

As he swirled the quarter-filled glass in his majestic hold, he locked eyes with his secretary.

"I don't know..." The woman's eyes darted with uncertainty.

"Miss Kane, I like to think that you are good at what you do. I would be quite disappointed if my thoughts are proven to be wrong. So, instead of telling me you don't know anything, I should be hearing you say you will be finding out if there is any."

The slight cruelty in his voice did not appear to move her, and that was one of the reasons he had her promoted to the status of being his secretary. Unlike some of his employees, she never looked startled whenever he was being the angry, thorough boss.

As expected, Christina Kane nodded her head slightly and said, "I will make sure to find out if there is any."

"Just call me to tell me what you have confirmed. I don't want to be disturbed either, take the rest of the day off." Charles felt his tiredness seep in further. The past few days were indeed tasking and it would be risky for the man to refuse himself a minute of rest.

"Alright, sir."

A few minutes later, she called to inform him about a charity event holding the next day. 

Slipping off the chair onto the rug, Charles resumed his drinking.

He had found his entertainment and he hoped it would be fun. He hoped something reasonable would come out of it and that he wouldn't waste his special time.

If anything, his time was highly precious to him and those who have wasted his time in the past felt a burn they were yet to recover from.

~

Charles Oxford was starting to feel absolute regret as the murmurs in the ballroom reached his ears.

Peeling his eyes off the sight of a group of people who cheered loudly with their champagne glasses, he questioned himself.

Why did he decide to find something to do? Now, the very thing he wished not to happen was occurring. His eyes darted sharply across the room once again and watched the crowd whose bright smiles became unbearable to watch.

Then, the man sighed. His barely existent time was being wasted.

The whole room reeked of boredom. Nothing fun was being done. The music being played was doing more of weighing his soul down. Neither was the exact reason for the gathering being discussed. Nobody was talking about the purpose of the charity.

Their excited chatters were definitely all about business talks. Charles wished to guess that the cluster of expensively dressed men and women would result in a million-dollar deal for some and losses for others.

Either way, it was quite unfortunate that they masked the event with a tag that most of them didn't care about.

Rubbing his huge recently moisturized hands, Charles reasoned that it would have been preferable to spend the whole day locked up in his room with his thoughts and his indulging work than to be at that event.

"Christina." He faced his secretary who he had decided to take along with the intention of relieving her of her work.

It was bad enough that she was going to be stuck with him for a while.

As usual, she was dressed to kill. If not for his morals and principles, Charles knew he would be taking her right into the bathroom as a means of surviving the boredom in the huge space. But, if he did that, Charles knew that he would not like what follows.

He might decide to fire her or she might take his move as an invitation to be with him romantically.

"Yes, Charles," the lady responded, her eyes set on him. Charles had given her the liberty to call him by his first name.

"When is this event supposed to end?"

"In two hours, sir."

"How long have we been here?"

"Ten minutes, sir."

"Um," he hummed and he gave Christina a side glance. The way she had her eyes glued on him made him suddenly feel uneasy.

Charles could read her spoken words loud and clear, Christina wanted him. At any cost.

He was used to seeing such looks.

Shifting his stance slightly to the left, his hand clutching his almost empty wine glass a bit harder, Charles's eyes travelled to the entrance and at that moment, the most unexpected sight greeted him.

Realizing his heart was thumping, Charles shifted again, cleared his throat, and pocketed his hands into the silkiness of his suit trouser.

Within a swift second, Charles gathered his ego, pride, and masculinity into one big attitude, he could not afford to appear weak as he just felt.

His surprised sight traveled back to Isabella who was walking hand in hand with a tall guy toward one of the small gatherings in the room.

With his sharp gaze, he observed her movements. He tried to determine what was different about her, he wished to see how much she had changed.

She had not changed a lot.

She was dressed in a red, long-sleeved pencil gown that held her body in the right places. Isabella always looked good in red. Always.

It made her eyes appear fiery like the character she was. Or rather, the woman he knew.

Her hair, brunette and long was curled into layers and they kept dancing as she talked and laughed with the people she was with.

Charles closed his eyes as the image of her closing her eyes in satisfaction whenever he ran his hands through her hair, came to his mind.

Opening his eyes, with locked jaws, Charles noticed further that something was missing in her eyes. They still looked fiery but they lacked the happiness that always made him smile whenever he saw her.

Wondering who the man she was with was, Charles chastised himself for bothering himself by recalling the past. Instead, he could be dealing with the present the way he wanted.

He smirked to himself as he imagined what reactions would be on the face of the woman that was meant to be his wife.

"Christina?"

"Yes?" He extended his arm for Christina to hook hers onto.

"It is time for us to mingle with the crowd." Charles returned the smile Christina gave him as her slender arm went around his. He could still feel Christina's eyes on him from time to time.

That was her problem.

What was on his mind at that moment was the woman in red and how he was going to make a re-entry into her life.

After six years.

"So, it is basically a hotel?" The fat man asked again.

"She just said..." His partner gave up trying to explain anything to the man who was making light of the little meeting they were having.

And Isabella was trying so hard not to get unduly angry. Her free hand kept tugging at the tablecloth, and at the same time, her smile widened. "Yes, it is a hotel. But a vintage kind of hotel."

"Why would anyone want to stay in such a place?"

"The services offered there are like no other, sir. Everything about the hotel is amazing and magical. Our guests always have a good time."

"If it is so magical, why is it failing?" David Maxwell's secretary gasped with shock at the directedness of his boss. Isabella could feel it, the anger, it had made its way to her chest. Her hold on the cloth became fiercer, it shifted off the table.

Caleb placed his hand over hers to placate her.

"We are working on ways to improve the standards of the hotel. We just have a bit of monetary…"

"Save it, Ms. Shade. Your hotel is a lost cause. The best thing you can do right now is selling it. That's the advice I can give."

'How dare you say such a thing? Do you know how hard I worked to get this company?'

Isabella wanted to cry out, but she maintained that smile. The smile of defeat. The side of her eyes blinking with tears, she looked down and said, "Thank you for your advice sir."

"I wish you the best Ms. Shade." Isabella nodded and looked in the other direction to see if any waiter was in sight. She needed a glass of wine. Actually, a bottle of wine would do the job.

"Mr. Maxwell, can we join you?"

That voice! Isabella felt her body shiver.

No, it could not be him!

Still looking for a waiter to pass by, Isabella resumed squeezing the cloth.

"Mr. Oxford, of course, you can. I am glad you made it today."

"I am glad as well."

No, no. It couldn't be.

A glass of wine found its way to her hand immediately and she faced another gathering that was concentrated at a table.

"So, anything fun going on here?"

"Well, Ms. Shade over here was telling me about her hotel. Ms. Shade," she immediately faced David Maxwell so she could not see the man's face if at all he was who she thought he was, "tell Mr. Oxford here about your place. Maybe he might be able to help."

Isabella shook a little as her head shifted to face this Mr. Oxford.

If she had her way, she could have become invisible at that instant. It really was him. With green orbs staring right into her with a snarky smile beneath them, Isabella noted how much he had changed. He looked huger, more built, more handsome.

"Well, Shades and Cloaks is a vintage hotel. As the name vintage implies, everything about the settings is purely historical."

The side of his mouth had gone up with a smile while she talked. His smile. It always found a way to affect her back then. And at that moment, it was affecting her with even more intensity than before. Why not? Anthony was looking like a complete sex god that women fall in love with without him even trying.

She pinched Caleb lightly for him to take over. As soon as he did, Her eyes traveled to the woman beside him. She was pretty. They suited each other.

Good for him.

Isabella darted her eyes to the side as she began to feel Anthony's stare fall heavily on her as he responded mono-syllabically to Caleb's explanation. She needed to get out of that place. She needed to find a way to regain composure. "Um… please excuse me."

As Isabella walked towards the restroom, she became tempted to look behind to see whether or not he had his eyes on her.

On getting to the restroom, her hand slamming the door hard, Isabella went to the mirror and leaned against the counter, staring at herself. She could read the mixed emotions inside her by just looking at her eyes. Isabella could not afford to have that happen.

Not now. Not ever.

Sighing, she reasoned out her present situation.

Isabella never thought she would be meeting Anthony so soon. She always thought if at all they would meet, it would be when they are old and close to their graves. Her mind picturing the magnificent-looking man, Isabella felt her hands shake a bit.

It really was him.

Gosh! How many years had it been?

Five? Six?

Recalling the circumstances of the past, Isabella shook again. She had done something terrible to him.

Oh, God! Rubbing her forehead, Isabella wondered what she could do. Crazily, explaining the situation that caused her action in the past was not an option she was willing to explore at that moment.

But then, she needed something, anything to help her face him.

A knock on the bathroom door announced his presence.

"Bella?"

Her eyes widened, and her legs lost their stance. It was him!

He was just outside the bathroom. And… he called her Bella. Anthony was the only one who ever called her that and she loved it whenever he did. His British accent to be thanked, him calling her name always did things to her. It awakened things within her, whether she wanted it to or not.

"Sooner or later, you will come out, Bella and I will be waiting here."

Scanning the exquisite restroom, Isabella saw no potential exit. So, she bade goodbye to her idea of doing the cliché; escaping through the toilet's window.

Finding her stance, Isabella reasoned that it was better she went out. If at all Anthony had not changed, one thing about him is that he never gives up till he gets what he wants. And she knew better than to try to drag the situation at hand.

"Finally." Her eyes evading his own, Isabella resumed walking.

As she expected, he did not allow it. Isabella immediately felt her arm being slightly pulled, next thing, her chest was glued to his huge body, she looked so little in his hold. "I won't allow you to run this time around Bella."

Finding the fact that she was beginning to warm up to his touch a bad sign, Isabella struggled to get out of his arms. "Let me go please."

"I need to talk to you." His hands repositioned as his firm voice bluntly stated his mission. While one snaked around her waist, the other settled on her hair, he was holding her securely against his strong, firm body, Isabella could not move despite her budging.

"If you want to talk, let me go."

"Okay." She should have just let him hold her. Isabella's hands went up as the shock that befall her when his lips attacked hers was not an ordinary one.

Kissing away, licking away, exploring her mouth like he was munching on his favourite chocolate bar, Isabella knew he wasn't going to end it soon no matter how much she budged or tried to complain.

Pushing her against the wall, he took the session to the next level. His huge hands gripping her buttocks firmly, Anthony pushed her towards him, his lips still engaging hers in a heated session.

Slowly, he ground against her, Isabella just had to moan. It was then she realized that she had fully given in to his kiss. She was actually loving it.

"Hm. You are still freaking hot, Bella." Anthony's hand pushed her even closer despite their closeness and put his hand to use and caressed her through the cotton dress.

Pulling away from her lips, without pausing for a second, his lips went to tease her earlobes. She gave a short gasp, her fingers digging into his back.

She was actually loving it!

Isabella finally realized the gravity of what was happening. Managing to push him away slightly, she took a look around to check if anyone had seen them.

Facing him with a sharp glare, she asked angrily, "Anthony! How dare you kiss me?"

"Charles. Nobody calls me Anthony anymore." He took a step back, his hands going into his pockets. "And, don't fool yourself, you enjoyed what just happened. Instead of complaining, count yourself lucky that I just made your day."

"Made my day? By kissing me? Oh please! The next time you touch me carelessly, you will regret it."

The side of his mouth went up with a smirk, his eyes wore amusement. "I am certain you will be the one regretting Bella. Because, once I start something," he took a step closer to her, his scent engulfing her once more, his eyes boring threateningly into hers, "I make sure to finish it."

Her jaws dancing to contain the emotions jumbled within her, she walked away from the corner where he had her staying put. "What do you want from me, Charles?"

"I spoke to your… the man that came with you. I am interested in your hotel, Isabella."

That was the first time he called her that way. It was always 'Bella' he called her back then.

Taking out a card from this breast pocket, his hand stretched towards her, "Take this and call me whenever you are ready to discuss business. I have a proposition that will ensure everyone is happy at the end of the day."

Isabella's brows quirked as she collected the card. "I don't think I will be calling you, but thank you."

"Oh, Bella," he swept a strand of hair into the back of her ear, "you and I know that you want whatever happened minutes ago to occur again. So, I will be waiting for that call."

Isabella found herself sneering mentally at his words. Just because she kissed him back he thinks she wants him. As she watched him walk out of the restroom area, her mind wondered if he knew she was married. Looking down at the card in her hand, Isabella thought, ‘Like hell, I would call him.’