My Deadly Desire

Chapter 14

Chapter 14: The Basement of Lies

Isabella's POV

The moonlight filtering through the dense foliage cast an eerie glow on the scene unfolding before me. Alexander's once gentle façade had crumbled, replaced by a mask of cold, calculating cruelty. Boris, a hulking figure with a face etched with the lines of a life spent in the shadows, loomed beside him, the frayed end of a thick rope dangling from his calloused hand.

Panic threatened to consume me, but a surge of anger, hot and white-hot, pushed it back. Every ounce of trust I had placed in Alexander, every stolen kiss, every whispered promise, turned to ash in my mouth. This elaborate charade, the hidden map, the staged feeling of being watched – it had all been a meticulously crafted lie designed to lure me away from David and into this isolated trap.

Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring the image of his twisted smirk. But I blinked them back, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing my fear.

"What is this, Alexander?" I demanded, my voice surprisingly steady despite the tremor in my heart.

He let out a humorless chuckle, a sound devoid of warmth or sincerity. "This, my dear Isabella, is the truth. The truth you so desperately craved."

He gestured to Boris, who stepped forward, the rope a sinister promise of confinement. My breath hitched in my throat as I realized the full extent of their plan. Fear threatened to paralyze me, but a defiant flicker ignited within. I wouldn't go down without a fight.

"There's no truth coming from you," I spat, my voice laced with venom. "You've lied to me from the beginning!"

A flicker of annoyance crossed his face, but it was quickly replaced by a chilling amusement. "Indeed," he admitted, a cruel edge creeping into his voice. "Everything you thought you knew about me, about us, was a carefully crafted illusion."

He paused, his gaze flickering to the moonlit clearing before returning to my face. "You see, Isabella," he began, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "my reasons for being with you had nothing to do with love."

The words struck me like a physical blow.

"Love?" I echoed, my voice barely a whisper. "It was never love?"

He gave a humorless laugh. "Love? Please, Isabella. You were a pawn in my game, a means to an end."

His words ripped away the last vestiges of the man I thought I knew. The truth, now unveiled, was a tangled web of deceit and vengeance.

"What game?" I asked, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and disbelief.

"The game of escaping the family business," he confessed, a flicker of bitterness crossing his features. "You see, my darling Isabella, marrying you wasn't about love; it was about revenge. David," he spat, the name bursting forth like a venomous curse. "Everything I've done, every lie I've told, has been orchestrated to destroy him."

David? My heart lurched. It all clicked into place – David's warnings, the suspicion that gnawed at me. It wasn't David who was lying, it was Alexander.

"Why?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He gave a mirthless laugh. "Why? Because unlike me, David was always the golden boy."

Bitterness contorted his features, transforming the man I thought I knew into a stranger fueled by a consuming hatred.

"Then why me?" I pressed, struggling against the tightening grip of Boris's hand.