Total Submission(4)

“Just leave me be. Please, Cam.” Her voice twisting, Isabelle brushes past me.

I reach out and clasp her hand. “Isabelle, let me help you.”

Isabelle wavers. I can see the longing in her eyes, the desire to submit. But then she looks away. “What’s done is done,” she whispers, cheeks flushed. “You can’t fix it.”

What is she talking about?

She hurries out, the door swinging shut behind her.

I take a moment to compose myself, then step out of the restroom. I watch her head back to the table and slide into the seat beside Brent. Obedient. Silent.

Miserable.

Fury cuts through my confusion. No way in hell am I giving up without a fight. No matter what she says, I vowed to take care of her and it’s my job to make sure she’s safe.

I dial a number on my cell. A private investigator I’ve known for years; I can trust him to be discreet—and thorough.

“Yes?” Jake answers gruffly, but I don’t care what I’ve interrupted, not with so much on the line.

“It’s Cam,” I tell the voice on the other end of the line. “I’ve got a job for you.”

Across the room, Isabelle fakes a smile, but her eyes tell a different story.

That woman is mine—body, mind and soul—and I’ll do whatever it takes to uncover the truth about what’s keeping her away from me.





THREE: ISABELLE


Running into Cam at Nobu leaves me so shaken, I don’t say a word for the rest of the night. Thankfully, Brent and his friends decide to hit a strip club, so he doesn’t object when I get a cab and head home early.

At last, I’m alone.

I lay in bed, unable to sleep a wink until the dawn light filters through the curtains. God, every time I think I’ve finally gotten in control, everything fall to pieces.

When Cam rescued me from that ugly scene with Brent at the Underground, I finally felt free. I pursued Cam until he agreed to let me be his sub: for the first time, I was going after what I wanted. I suddenly found myself in a whole new world of pleasure, but just when I allowed myself to believe in a better future, Brent’s blackmail brought it all crashing down.

Now, I’m right where I started again. Trapped in a life that makes me empty inside. Doomed to deny my desires as a price for past sins.

But you’re not the same.

I feel a flare of determination. Seeing Cam again was painful and terrible, but being with him reminded me of everything that’s missing in my life. I never imagined I could have such intense feelings—just those few moments in the bathroom shattered my numb detachment and brought me screaming to life again.

Even if I can’t have him, I won’t go back to the way it used to be.

I hurry to the bedroom and drag my suitcases out of the closet. I can’t spend another day trapped like this, a prisoner to Brent’s evil threats. Tearing through my things, I heap them in the suitcases. Brent might think he’s beaten me, but I’ve gotten myself out of worse scrapes. Experience has shown me just how easy it is to wipe the slate clean, and start over again. It’s not easy, but I have no other way out.

* * *

I pack up everything I can’t bear to leave behind, then get dressed and take a cab straight to the bank where my family does all its business.

Even though I don’t have an appointment, just the Ashcroft name is enough to bring my financial advisor, Mr. Grant, running. He ushers me into his private office.

“Isabelle, how nice to see you again.” Mr. Grant gestures to a chair. “Sit down. Can I offer you anything? Coffee, tea?”

“I’m fine, thanks.” My heart is beating like crazy, as if I’m about to pull a robbery, instead of simply withdraw what’s mine.

And flee the country.

“So what can I do for you?” Mr. Grant smiles at me. “What’s it been, a year or more since we met last? How have you been?”

“Oh, you know.” I fake a grin. “Busy, busy, busy! I’ve been involved in a lot of charity work and organizing a few fundraising events.”

“Excellent!” Mr. Grant beams approval. “Your father would be proud. He was such a devoted philanthropist. Now, how can I help?”

I take a breath, knowing what’s at stake—my future.

“I was wondering about my trust fund. How much can I access right now?”

Mr. Grant looks curious, but he clicks at his computer and jots a few numbers down on a pad of paper. Glancing at his notes, he says, “Your trust fund is pretty securely tied up in investments and property holdings that your father set up for you, but you have around two million dollars in liquid assets.”

Two million? I hide my relief. It’s a huge amount of money, more than enough to start a new life somewhere – and cover the tracks to this old one so well that Brent will never be able to find me.