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.’

It really was him.

Isabella sat back in her chair. She had been hoping it was a dream, but it wasn't. He really kissed her.

Anthony... No, Charles aroused her without trying hard. After six years he was still that good. Her fingers grazing her lips, she recalled to the last detail how he took her with more intention than he used to when they used to date.

That same day, when she got home and took a look at Gabriel, Isabella realized it had been a while since she felt so strongly aroused. Her husband never took the liberty to make her feel good during sex. All Gabriel ever wanted to do was empty his nut into her.

Feeling sadness set in again, Isabella wondered how life would have been if she had not run away a few minutes before tying the knot with Anthony. She wouldn't be deprived of intense intercourse, certainly. She probably won't have a failing company to be worried about too.

Sighing, Isabella reasoned that it was useless to swim in regret at that stage. If anything, she should be working harder at getting her company out of its ruins.

Isabella's eyes travelled to the card that had been lying on her table. Temptation surrounded it. It was calling Isabella to pick up the hard paper and dial the number on it.

"Isa, there is an issue." Caleb's voice snapped her out of it. As he sat down, Isabella prepared herself for the terrible news that was going to come out of his mouth. Earlier that day, one of their loyal customers had an accident in the bathroom and that caused a dent in the already collapsing state of the hotel.

"I have called every single person that promised to see if they could help us, none, I mean no one is willing to merge. It is just so terrible. It is as though they all had an overnight meeting and decided to not consider us at all. Isa..."

"Caleb. What is going on? Why does everything keep getting worse? Just yesterday..."

Caleb reached for her hand and stopped her lamenting. "Hey Isa, don't do this now. Sulking about the state of this place is not going to help." He tapped her skin gently, in an assuring way before sitting back. "I was thinking, don't you think it is high time you started considering selling this place?"

Isabella sighed and shook a bit as his realistic question reminded her again how things were. "You know..." her voice had turned a shade of remorse as she twirled in her seat. "Before all these crises started happening in this hotel, this whole place was the only thing that made me really happy. Genuinely happy. It makes me happy even now that things are crazy, weirdly. Caleb," her eyes flickered to the attentive man, "I don't want to lose this place. Apart from the fight I put up with my father to win this place, this hotel is..." Isabella shook her head frantically as she searched for the right word.

"This place is the only thing stable in my life. I wake up every day in that damn place I call my husband's home and the next thing I want to do is rush out of there and just spend the whole day here. Selling this place is a good idea, but..." Isabella could feel her heart thumping with fear at the mere thought. "It is not going to be as easy as saying it."

The small, encouraging smile that stayed on Caleb's face made her realize how pitiful she was making herself look. So, she looked away, one hand wiping away the tears at the corner of her eye. "I wish you would explain the reason why it will be so difficult to leave that Gabriel."

"One day, Caleb. Hopefully."

The both of them left the remaining words in their mouths tucked in and they both sat in silence, each man delving into their thoughts.

Moments later, Caleb said, "We still haven't called Mr. Oxford though." Her eyes darted at him sharply. "I checked him yesterday on Google and I must acknowledge, that man is in money. Apart from his father's fortune, he has made himself a ton of money. And their empire? It flourishes daily."

"You think he would be able to help?" Isabella started replaying their moment, she felt hot immediately. It really bothered her. The fact that he came out of nowhere but still, he had as much effect on her as he did years ago.

"He did mention that he was interested in our case."

"Maybe I should go meet him then. Hopefully, he can help." Isabella wanted to slap herself for saying that.

For some reason, Isabella was angry at Anthony and that was stupid because she was the one that ran away before they could get married. She broke his heart, she destroyed a beautiful relationship without giving a single excuse. She did not have it easy either after the whole running away drama.

But to speak the truth, she had no other option. Isabella knew meeting Anthony was the only hope left for her company. If that doesn't work she might as well sell the hotel no matter how painful it could be.

"Do you want me to come along?"

Isabella wanted to meet Anthony alone, so she shook her head in response. As her hands went to tuck beneath her chin, she thought, 'Maybe it is time I explained everything about six years ago to Anthony, I need to clear my conscience.'

~

The house was unusually quiet and that gladdened the brunette who would have killed for some alone time in the house. Kicking off her pumps, Isabella found herself twirling on the smoothness of the tiles before she made her way to the kitchen.

Their bedroom was just a few distances away from the kitchen, so the noise she heard as she downed a gulp from the wine bottle she opened on a certain tiring day, was without mistake from that room. Dropping the bottle on the marbled counter, she grabbed her bag and made for the room.

The sight that greeted her made her knees grow weak. "Gabriel..."

Her voice was so faint and full of pain.

With no care at all, her husband opened his eyes and took off the slender hand on his naked chest. After whispering something to the three ladies that immediately rushed out of the room giggling, with no clothes on, he finally faced Isabella.

"Why did you interrupt my fun?"

"Your..." She scoffed. "Gabriel, why on earth would you decide to bring hookers into our home?"

"Why? Are you jealous that they are getting all my attention?" He moved closer. "You know what you have to do to get it."

"Get what? Your attention? Oh please. If there is any getting to be considered, it will be getting out of here."

"How dare you?" He was glowering at her, his breath kept fanning her mercilessly. "How dare you talk to me that way? In case you are forgetting something, your father is the one who gets to suffer if you try anything funny."

His huge, rough hand grabbed her by the hair and tugged so hard, that she had to give a loud cry.

"Gabriel..." she reached for his hand which kept tightening his hold. "Please... Stop."

He glared at her, his offensive smell hitting her nose even more. "I need you to understand that a wrong move from you means that it is all over for your father. You don't want to be the reason your father loses everything do you?"

She could not respond as she was trying so hard to ease her hair from his painful hold.

But her silence offended the irritated man who grabbed her roughly from behind and dug his fingers into her buttock.

"Do you understand?"

"Y-yes." Isabella nodded quickly.

"Good. Now, I need you to do something," he finally released her. "Take off your clothes and get on the bed."

"Uh?" Isabella was screaming in her head. His sleeping with her meant more pain and not just physical.

"Get. On. The. Bed." He growled at her.

"I- I am on my period."

"What? You are of no use then. Get out," he mumbled as he made his way to the bed with a short frown.

Her hands stylishly massaging her head, Isabella walked in to get a small bag she tucked just behind the door. As she made for the entrance again, her mind still in disarray, she faced Gabriel who was playing with his groin.

"I have to go to the office." That place was more like a home compared to the hell she got married into.

"Get some groceries on your way back," he instructed without looking her way. "And, call those beauties back in. I am getting bored."

Isabella let out a shaky sigh which could have led to her breaking down into tears had she not held herself together with the last string of sanity and patience within her.

As she made her way into the kitchen to get some food, Isabella made an inner cry for the miracle she had been wishing for.

She needed it at that moment.