Solitude & Storms

3.

His voice was icy, even colder than earlier in thekitchen.

She hurried to explain, pointing urgently at the door with her free hand. "Iheard something! It was weird, it sounded scary. I have to check it out."

His face paled a little. "You will do nothing of the sort."

"Raphael, there's..."

"It's Mr. Sauvage to you, please maintain your manners." She lookedmildly taken aback but he couldn't afford to care. His gaze went up to theclosed door in the shadows and a smouldering ache filled his chest. "That roomis off limits. Do you understand?"

Raphaël's voice cut through the silence like a knife, sharp and cold.

There was something dangerous in his gaze, something darker than theirritation she'd seen in the kitchen earlier. It was almost... trepidation.

"What's in there?" she asked, voice quieter than she intended.

"Nothing that concerns you." His tone left no room for argument.

Isabelle made room. "But I'm sure I heard..."

"I said it doesn't concern you! You'rehere to do a job, Isabelle. Nothing more. If you can't respect my rules, you'llfind yourself back on that long road you walked up." His eyes flashed, cold andunyielding. "Do I make myself clear?"

She wanted to counter him, to demand to know what it was that was behindthat door that Aunt Rosa hadn't even told her about. The look in his eyes dissuadedher and she bit her tongue. After all, he was right. It didn't concern her.

His eyes narrowed. "Answer me. Your only role in this house is to obey me, nothingelse."

With a sniff, she pulled her wrist out of his grip and cleared her throat asprofessionally as possible. "Very well, Sir. Shall I prepare your breakfastnow, Master, healthy as you wanted it?"

She gave him a tight smile and walked stiffly off the staircase, grabbingher bag on the way.

He stood there, choosing to ignore the stark sarcasm she'd just thrown inhis face. His heart was racing at the thought of Isabelle going in that room.He couldn't let anyone in, the risk was too great. He couldn't trust anyone.

Raphael sighed, staring blankly at the dark stairs. Numbly, he turned awayand walked silently back to his office.

Work, that was what he would do. That was what he knew every answer to, knewevery formula for success. For the things he couldn't calculate and resolvewith reliable mathematical formulas, Raphael was useless. And he'd suffered overit for longer than he could remember.

Unaware of his turmoil, Isabelle was shoving her clothes into her aunt's closet, a frown on her face. Who would've known that doing Aunt Rosa thisfavour would have put her at the servant's end of a haughty master's table?!  

She closed the closet doors, biting her lip as she thought it over. Therewas something in that room, something he didn't want her to see. Isabelledidn't know whether Raphael remembered it or not, considering that he wastreating her like a total stranger, but she had a notorious curiosity thatnever left her alone until she scratched her itch.

Soon as he left the house, she would be in that room!

With a secret bolt of thrill rippling through her, she smoothed down thepleats of her professional blue dress and hurried to the kitchen. A healthybreakfast had been his request. Luckily for him, Isabelle was a master ofhealthy eating!

She'd had a period in her life when she'd been obsessed with optimizing herhealth, so there was hardly a diet she hadn't tried. She'd make sure to knockhis socks off and finally get a bit of appreciation in those cold, unamusedeyes of his.