Chapter 20: Start now
The lessons started by nine, but by the evening, Isadora was done. She couldn’t believe she had to go through such a thing every day, considering how strict each of the instructors had been.
It was almost like they had gone out of their way to punish her—especially the dining etiquette instructor.
If I hear "wrong spoon" one more time, I would split my head open! she grumbled to herself, relieved to finally zone out while listening to the last one who left.
By seven she returned to her room, collapsing onto her bed with relief, hoping she wouldn’t have to do anything else—just settle into her room without worry.
Only to gingerly scramble off her bed with a huge frown on her face as she recalled one last thing she needed to do. Her stomach turned at the thought, even as she moved closer to her reading table where a huge PC had been erected.
She quickly closed the last webpage she had opened, its bold label still glaring back at her: How to sleep with a man. She’d only resorted to it after her illicit adult video searches had gone terribly wrong.
Isadora drew in a deep sigh as she picked out a black nightwear and waited for Dante to get home.
The faster we get this over with, the better it would be for me! she decided, aware that it meant she would only have nine months to spend there and nothing more.
Isadora wasn’t callous, but at that moment, she couldn’t bring herself to care about a baby that didn’t yet exist. Her problems seemed far greater than whatever was going to happen in the future.
Later I can reach out to the child when he or she is older! she resolved with a sigh, slipping into the black nightgown before sitting at the edge of the bed, almost like she was waiting to be summoned.
Her heart pounded harder when she heard his car arrive. She checked her reflection in the mirror for the tenth time that day. Her short black hair was pulled into a bun that suited her face, exposing her innocent brown eyes.
Her cheeks were still a bit chubby, carrying the faintest hint of baby fat, but it only seemed to enhance the soft aesthetic of her face.
"It’s just sex! He’s going to put his male copulatory organ into me and that would be it!" she muttered through clenched teeth, wishing she had gone out of her way to sleep with someone—anyone—during college, so she wouldn’t dread the experience this terribly.
Breathe, Isadora! Breathe! she commanded herself, pressing her hand over her heart, but it didn’t help. Minutes stretched into an hour, and her feet remained glued to the floor. She was sure Dante would have already eaten dinner and settled into his room or his study, yet she still couldn’t make herself leave her room.
At last, courage failed her completely, and she sank down onto the floor, staring at her reflection in the mirror. But then, gritting her teeth, she suddenly turned around, stormed to the door, and stepped out that very moment.
She didn’t hesitate—slamming the door behind her without pausing once. Her hands trembled as she forced her legs forward, step by step, toward Dante’s room, berating herself all the way.
This is stupid! This is a very bad idea! she told herself, considering the fact that Dante should have been the one urging her about pregnancy, not her.
But another reason pushed her forward: the nagging fear that since everything between them was only a verbal agreement, Mr. Bellini could suddenly decide she no longer had any value. Without being pregnant, he could cancel the arrangement anytime he wanted—and worse, Dante hadn’t even slept with her.
This is a bad idea! she mumbled again, standing before his door. Raising her hand, she knocked softly, so faint it was almost as though she hoped he wouldn’t hear.
But her heart lurched when his voice came at once.
"Come in!" he ordered.
As much as Isadora didn’t want to, she had no choice.
It’s just sex! she repeated for the hundredth time that day, stepping into the lightly lit room and closing the door quietly behind her. She looked around, surprised to see Dante at his table with what could only be a pile of work stacked in front of him.
I thought CEOs didn’t have to do much, just raked in money! she thought, realizing how wrong that idea had been.
Slowly, she walked closer, certain that he knew it was her, though he still didn’t lift his gaze or give her the slightest attention.
This nightwear is the shortest I have—it’s showing all my legs! Is that not enough of a hint? she thought nervously, wondering if perhaps he was the kind of man who preferred his women completely naked.
She had barely reached a foot away from his table when his voice suddenly broke the silence.
"It’s late. Is there something you need?" he asked, his tone as cold as usual, his hand still scribbling across paper, his eyes fixed on the glowing screen before him. He wore the same glasses she’d first seen him in, the faint light glinting off their edges.
His hair, still that light shade of white, caught the dim glow of the room, and she could clearly make out his expression as she licked her lips, struggling to find the right words.
But seconds ticked by, and she said nothing. Then she felt his gaze on her. He raised his head, eyes locking onto hers, a questioning look deepening the silence.
Isadora panicked under his stare. The words stumbled out in a stutter she couldn’t disguise.
"You—I mean, you mentioned having a..." Her voice faltered lower and lower with each passing word. "...a child. Figured the faster we start, the better!"
She tried to stare back with a determination she didn’t feel, but under his dark gaze, the intensity of it only grew sharper, burning into her, leaving her trembling inside.
