Chapter 2 - The Bleeding Wounds
The air inside the villa felt heavy, tainted by the sudden realization that this place of luxury had been a prison for my only child. I walked Isabella straight to the master bathroom, bypassing Beatriz who hovered nervously in the hallway. I locked the solid oak door behind us. The marble surfaces and gold fixtures mocked me; I had paid millions to create a sanctuary, yet I hadn’t protected the one person who mattered most.
I sat Isabella on the edge of the large soaking tub and turned on the warm water. I washed her hands with the utmost care, using a gentle antibacterial soap. As the dirt and grime washed away, the true extent of the damage became visible. Her small palms were covered in deep, raw blisters, some of which had popped and were oozing clear fluid. There were older, yellowish calluses underneath, proving this was weeks of hard labor, not a single afternoon's mistake. I felt a tear slide down my own cheek as I carefully patted her hands dry with a plush towel.
“Does it hurt, sweetheart?” I asked softly.
Isabella nodded slowly, staring at her feet. “A little. But I’m used to it now, Papa. Please don't fight with her. She said if I made you upset, she would send me away to a boarding school where they lock the doors from the outside.”
My blood ran cold. The sheer psychological torture Beatriz had inflicted on my daughter was staggering. Isabella's biological mother, my first wife, had passed away from an aggressive illness when Isabella was only four. I had married Beatriz three years later, hoping to give my daughter a mother figure and a stable home. Beatriz had played the part of the doting stepmother perfectly while I was around. It was a flawless performance.
“You are never going away,” I promised her, kissing her forehead. “This is your home. You are my world, Isabella. No one is ever going to hurt you again.”
I used my phone to call Dr. Aris, an exclusive private physician who catered to the elite of Marbella, demanding he come to the estate immediately. Then, I carried Isabella to her bedroom. I was shocked to find it stripped of all her toys. Her bookshelves, once filled with colorful stories, were bare. The beautifully painted dollhouse I had bought her in Paris was gone.
“Where are your things, Bella?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Beatriz said toys are for children who earn them,” she mumbled, pulling the duvet up to her chin. “She gave them to the charity shop. She said it was for my character.”
I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath to cage the monster roaring inside me. I needed to be smart. I kissed her cheek and told her to rest until the doctor arrived.
When I stepped out of the bedroom, Beatriz was pacing the corridor. She immediately rushed to me, placing a perfectly manicured hand on my chest, looking up at me with large, pleading eyes. “Darling, you’re overreacting. You've been gone for so long, and Isabella has been acting out. She disrespects me. I was just trying to instill some discipline. You know how spoiled she can be.”
I looked down at the hand on my chest. I felt sick. “Discipline?” I asked, keeping my tone perfectly flat, giving nothing away. “Is that what you call it?”
“Yes! You weren't here. You left me alone to raise another woman's child while you were off playing king in Dubai. It’s not easy, David. She needs structure.”
“I see,” I said slowly. The businessman in me took over completely. In negotiations, when your opponent lies, you let them talk. You let them dig their own grave. “Perhaps I have been away too long. I didn't realize she was being difficult.”
Beatriz visibly relaxed, letting out a breath she had been holding. Her arrogant confidence seeped back in. “Exactly, darling. I knew you would understand. We just need to present a united front. Now, why don't you go shower, and I'll have Maria prepare your favorite dinner?”
May you like
“Maria,” I repeated the housekeeper's name. “Yes. I think I'll go speak to Maria right now.”
I walked past Beatriz, leaving her standing in the hallway. I headed straight for the kitchen quarters. It was time to find out exactly how deep this rot went, and who else in this house had stood by and watched my daughter suffer.
