Chapter 4 The Battle Begins

The silence was the first thing Belle noticed.

Not the quiet sort. The sort that crushed against her ribcage, making breathing difficult, the kind that was oppressive and deliberate.

Her body was weak and aching from the crash's aftermath, and she struggled to open her heavy eyes. As though her brain was still attempting to reconstruct the shattered moments before everything had turned dark, a steady throbbing settled behind her skull.

After forcing herself to stand, she became aware that something was off.

The white, sterile walls. The luxurious linens that seemed too costly for a public medical facility. The gentle buzz of machinery, keeping an eye on her every move.

She felt a knot in her stomach.

Belle wasn't by herself.

Near the window, a woman in a grey suit sat with a tablet on her lap. Her small lips were squeezed into a hard line, and her blond hair was twisted back into a tight bun.

Not a nurse.

Not a medical professional.

A handler.

Belle's pulse quickened.

She dangled her legs over the side of the bed and pushed the covers aside. Realisation struck her like a kick to the stomach the instant her bare feet touched the glossy wooden floor.

This was not a medical facility.

It was a prison.

With steel-cold eyes, the woman raised her head. "You're conscious."

Belle disregarded her. Every nerve in her body was screaming for escape as she stumbled towards the door.

However, it didn't move when she reached for the handle.

locked.

Belle balled her fingers into fists. Her pulse pounded in her ears as she slowly turned. "Where am I in the hell?"

The lady didn't flinch. "A private medical suite."

Belle took a deep breath. "Whose medical suite is it?"

It was not exactly a smile that curled the woman's lips. "Mr. Kensington's."

Belle felt a chill run down her back.

No.

No, this was not taking place.

She took a step back and shook her head. "I have to go."

Unimpressed, the woman cocked her head. "That isn't feasible."

Belle buried her fingernails into her hands. Not feasible?

She spun around, looking around the room for anything that might end her nightmare, like a phone or a way out.

The door then unlocked.

It swung open, and Belle turned around.

Inside came Alistair Kensington.

The tension grew in the room.

Wearing a perfectly fitted black suit, he radiated strength and authority, an indisputable presence that demanded obedience without uttering a word. His unreadable, penetrating blue eyes met hers.

Belle felt a knot in her stomach.

Alistair Kensington was someone she had seen in many guises.

She had been seduced by him. The one who had left her. The one who had destroyed her entire universe.

However, this?

This was a very different matter.

He moved forward without saying a word, taking long, deliberate steps to get closer to her.

Then, he threw a heavy sheet of paper on the bed.

Belle remained still.

didn't take a breath.

Because she recognised it even from the other side of the room.

An agreement.

Alistair spoke in a cool, collected, and potentially menacing tone.

"Go through it."

Belle left it alone.

She also didn't take her eyes off of him.

Between them, the air was like a charged live wire, just waiting for the spark to strike.

Despite the way her body cried out for her to run, she spoke steadily.

"What is this?"

Alistair cocked his head in what appeared to be amusement at the query.

"A remedy."

Belle's mouth tightened. To what end?

to the fact that she was expecting? To she attempting to depart? To the mayhem she had unwittingly entered when she allowed him to touch her?

She inhaled deeply. "Nothing is being signed by me."

Alistair's mouth formed a line. "Even you haven't read it."

With her arms folded across her chest, Belle's determination hardened like iron. "I don't have to."

There was a flash in his eyes. "You'll."

She gave a quick exhale. "I can't be kept here."

Alistair remained silent.

He didn't have to.

since they were both aware of the reality.

He was able to.

He would, too.

Belle's heart was racing. "You're not allowed to, "

Alistair took one step forward and interrupted her.

His closeness was deadly, suffocating, and intoxicating.

With a silky voice that was tinged with something much worse, he whispered, "I have every right."

Belle's breathing became laboured.

He glanced at her, but not out of passion or love.

in evaluation.

As if she were an issue to be resolved. a danger to eliminate.

Alistair moved past her, lifting the contract and running his fingertips over it.

He held it between them like a loaded gun as he turned to face her.

"You're expecting," he remarked plainly.

Belle winced.

Thick and unbreakable, the word hung in the air.

It wasn't what she wanted him to say.

Not aloud.

Not in this manner.

Alistair went on, his tone tinged with subdued authority. "Belle, you have two options."

Her heart pounded.

"One." The document brushed her arm as he stepped closer. "This contract is yours to sign. For a year, you are married to me. You are subject to my conditions, my regulations, and my protection.

Belle felt her stomach turn painfully.

"What if I don't?" she muttered.

Alistair's eyes became stony.

"So you go with nothing."

Belle froze.

Nothing.

Processing the profundity of what he was saying, what he was threatening, made her head race.

Her voice was sharp as she raised her chin. "That is extortion."

It wasn't denied by Alistair.

Rather, he extracted a tiny envelope from his suit pocket.

After hesitating, Belle accepted it. She withdrew the sole sheet of paper with trembling fingers.

Then, she felt sick to her stomach.

documents from her bank.

The money she owed. Her flat was threatened with an eviction notice. the mounting medical costs in her name.

Belle's breathing became laboured.

Alistair has a gentle yet deadly voice.

"Belle, you need me."

She gripped the page tightly.

"Whether or not you like it."

The anxiety in the hospital suite was palpable.

With her fists gripped in her lap and every fibre of her body urging her to run, Belle sat rigidly on the edge of the bed. However, there was no where to go. Not when the only way out was blocked by the imposing figure of Alistair Kensington, who stood in front of her. Not while his cold stare kept her captive, analysing her and planning his next move.

And most definitely not when Evangeline Sterling crashed like a cyclone of rage into the room.

The medical equipment was rattled by the force of the door slamming against the wall.

Then there was a sharp snap.

Belle's head jerked sideways as her cheek exploded with anguish.

The harsh, quick slap left a searing fire that burned through her skin.

The world tilted momentarily.

The quiet was overwhelming.

Over her, Evangeline stood, her manicured fingers shaking at her side as her chest rose and fell with desperate gasps. Although her ice-blonde hair was perfectly arranged in a cascade, her normally calm face was contorted with unadulterated anger.

Belle forced herself to glance up despite the sting on her cheek.

An error.

Because the other woman's lip twisted in distaste the instant her eyes met Evangeline's.

"You are a cunning bitch." Venom oozed from her voice. "You believe you can catch him?"

Belle's fingers curled into the covers under her as her breath came quickly.

The storm and the rage were what she had anticipated.

The shudder of anxiety underlying Evangeline's words was unexpected.

It was a dread Belle knew all too well.

A dread of losing him.

Evangeline didn't hold off till she heard back. With heels clicking hard on the immaculate flooring, she turned on Alistair. "Say you were unaware."

Her voice faltered a little.

Alistair's massive shoulders were squared up, his face was unreadable, and his look was one of icy detachment.

However, he remained silent.

didn't refute it.

Something unsightly distorted Evangeline's face. "Obviously," she exhaled, chuckling sourly.

Belle felt a knot in her stomach.

A betrayed fiancée and her unfaithful lover were not involved in this incident.

It was a struggle for power.

The flawlessly polished exterior of Evangeline broke. She gestured to Belle with a trembling finger. Was this what you were looking for? To ruin everything? To include him in your pitiful, uncivilised drama?

Belle's pulse was racing as her nails bit into her palms.

She was aware that she didn't belong here. That she was just an outsider in Evangeline's world, Alistair's world.

However, the words continued to cut like a razor through her.

Evangeline turned back to Alistair and moved closer before she could reply.

Too near.

She lowered her voice, which was now desperate rather than loud or angry.

She muttered, "Tell me this doesn't change anything."

Belle gave a shaky sigh.

She shouldn't give a damn.

She shouldn't feel as though something repulsive and envious is tightly gripping her chest.

Alistair was silent for a long time.

Then he turned slowly.

Not to Evangeline.

To Belle.

Unreadable, his piercing blue eyes met hers.

And Belle knew right then.

He was making a decision.

Her air left her lungs as the realisation hit her like a raging wave.

Evangeline observed.

Awaiting.

I'm hoping.

Alistair remained silent.

Belle's blood became icy.

Since anger was worse than silence.

Acceptance was silence.

And the man who could shatter nations with a single word, Alistair Kensington, remained silent.

Evangeline's expression twisted.

She turned on her heel and ran out without saying another word.

Alistair's voice broke the tension before Belle had a chance to think.

"You have 24 hours to make a decision."

Belle's heart stopped beating.

Then, gently, he left as well.

She was left stranded.

And all alone, all alone.

Belle gazed at the agreement.

With its thick pages and dark writing, it remained undisturbed on the hospital bedside, representing everything she wished to get away from.

Nevertheless, she was unable to turn away.

Except for the faint hum of the city outside, the room was suddenly silent. Life continued on, unconcerned with her collapsing reality, despite the distant hum of traffic and the sporadic shriek of sirens.

Her thoughts were racing.

She had been struggling to get out of the bottom for years. Making sacrifices no one saw, labouring till her hands hurt, and juggling rent and tuition.

Nevertheless, here she was.

gazing at a contract that would determine her life's course.

The weight of the papers was greater than it should have been, and her fingers shook as she grabbed for them.

union.

To Kensington, Alistair.

For a year.

Her vision was swimming as the words blended together.

An agreement. A cage. A bargain with Satan.

Her kid kicked.

Belle gasped.

Her body froze as she put a hand to her stomach.

There was a slight movement, a whisper. However, it was genuine. Her lungs were robbed of air because it was so real.

The back of her eyes were burning with tears.

Her child.

Alistair's kid.

A future beyond her means.

An entire life on the line.

Belle closed her eyes tightly as memories swept over her like a raging tempest.

She pictured herself battling to keep the lights on in a little flat by herself. She pictured herself working two jobs, missing important life events, and not being able to provide her child with the stability they were entitled to.

Then Alistair appeared to her.

His strength. His fortune. His impact.

All the things she hated.

All the things her child required.

She let out a trembling breath.

She detested him.

I detested his haughtiness, his dominance, and his merciless capacity to rob her of all her independence.

She detested herself more, though.

Because her hand was already in motion, despite her head screaming no.

Closing fingers around the pen.

lifting.

hovering.

Shaking.

Belle gazed at the blank line, where her name would decide her destiny.

She shuddered as she breathed.

Then she signed.

A legally binding pledge was made when the ink seeped into the paper.

And Belle Madrigal lost her freedom with just one blow.