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CHAPTER12
ISABEL
Azar doesn’t just hit me once. He hits me over and over. The second punch takes me to the ground. He kicks my ribs, then he gets down on his knees, straddling my shoulders, and he continues to hit me. I can’t lift my arms to block his blows because he’s got my arms pinned down by the sides of his legs.
Then when he’s decided I’ve had enough, he stands and chuckles, before he spits on me.
“Clean your fucking face up,” he announces. “I’m going to fuck Maryam and I’ll be back for you.”
He walks out of my room, leaving the door open. I stay where I am, my body sore and tired, my vision blurry from the blood dripping into my eyes. Rolling over onto my stomach, I let out a groan as I try to push onto my knees.
I hear a gasp and lift my head to look toward the hallway. Donya is standing there, her eyes on me. She looks horrified, but she doesn’t make a move to help me. Instead, the look of horror leaves her face and she snorts as if she finds this funny.
“You’re finally in trouble. Looks like you really messed up.”
She walks away, without saying anything else, without even helping me get into the bathroom to clean up but to be fair, I didn’t do shit when Azar was beating her ass the other day. I didn’t even acknowledge a single thing about it. Maybe this is just my karma for knowing what goes on in this house and doing nothing to stop it.
My karma that is coming all at once.
Seems about right.
Once I make it into the bathroom, I attempt to clean myself up, but I don’t think that I do a very good job, because I can’t really see myself in the mirror. My eyes are far too swollen. There is a knock on the bathroom door, and I suck in a breath as I turn around.
I make out Donya standing there. She doesn’t say anything, but she does thrust her hand forward. There is something in it. Taking it from her, I realize it’s an ice pack.
“Put it on your face. You’ll be able to see tomorrow as long as you stay iced.”
She doesn’t say anything else. She doesn’t even stay long enough for me to thank her. She turns and walks out of the room. I change into my sleep clothes and crawl into bed, placing the cold ice pack against my eyes.
I hope that Azar finds the desire to stay with Maryam all night tonight and leaves me alone. I hope for that, I pray for it even, but it doesn’t happen. After a while goes by, I pass out asleep. I don’t know how long I’m actually asleep, but I’m awoken by being flipped onto my stomach.
I know it’s him. I can smell him. Feel him. I doubt he’s even showered from being with Maryam. It doesn’t matter though. It’s not like I even give a shit. I don’t. He rips my shorts off and wrenches my hips backward as he buries himself deep inside of me.
It feels like a red-hot poker is being inserted into my body. Like he’s ripping me apart. I don’t bother crying out, I don’t bother saying a fucking word. Instead, I just take it.
But this is the last time that I will take anything from this man, anything that he gives me, because tomorrow I am going to go to Rostam’s office. I am going to show him exactly what his words caused to happen to me.
I am going to walk away, run if I have to, and nobody, not a single fucking man, is going to stop me.
RUSLAN
As soon asI see her, my entire body bursts into a rage. I control it, just barely. Rushing over to her, I wrap Isabel in my arms. She collapses just as I do and I hold her against my chest, whispering to her that everything is going to be okay.
Osip is shouting, but I can’t make out what he’s saying. I don’t bother staying in the room, scooping Isabel into my arms, I carry her out of Rostam’s office and toward Osip’s car. Looking to the left, I see Isabel’s fancy Audi parked haphazardly and halfway on the curb.
“What the fuck,” I whisper to myself.
“Please,” she whimpers.
Reaching for the back door handle of Osip’s car, I tug it open and lay her down. “You’re safe now, Isa. I have you,” I murmur before I close the door behind her and turn around.
I’m not surprised to see Rostam, his two men, and Osip standing not too far from us. Rostam looks awfully fucking guilty. Crossing my arms over my chest, I dip my chin slightly.
“What the fuck did you do?” I ask.
He looks to the side, then shifts his attention back to meet mine. “I said something to Azar. I didn’t think that’s what would happen. I was giving him an opportunity to give her up easily, without an issue.”
Walking up to him, anger coursing through my blood, I place my hand at his chest and shove him backward. I don’t give a good goddamn that Rostam is the head of the Persian Mafia. I don’t give a fuck who he is, what he did, he deserves to be fucking strung up and gutted for that shit.
