The gates of the Navarro estate creaked open as Rafael's black car rolled in under the fading light of dusk. The staff scattered before him like shadows fleeing the sun. But one figure didn't move.
Selena.
She bowed her head low as he stepped out.
Rafael didn't pause.
"Get her ready," he said, voice hard as glass. "Bring her to my room. Now."
Selena looked up, jaw clenched. "Yes, Señor."
He didn't wait for a response. He strode through the main hall without looking back.
Selena left immediately and entered quietly into Isabella's room, her face pale.
Isabella was sitting by the window, lost in thought, watching dusk blur the sky. She turned at the sound of the door, but her heart had already started sinking.
Selena didn't speak at first. She moved to the wardrobe, pulled out a slip of midnight blue silk, and laid it gently on the bed. Then, softly, she said, "He wants you. Tonight."
Isabella's throat tightened. Her chest felt like it would cave in.
"I thought maybe… just one more night...."
Selena shook her head. "Be brave. That's all you can do."
Isabella looked at the silk garment, then at her reflection in the mirror.
What am I now?
Not a wife.
Not a woman.
Just a body.
A thing to be used without respect.
All a price to pay for her father's life.
She dressed slowly, hands trembling, heart pounding louder with every second.
Rafael's Room...
He was already waiting when she was led in.
The room was dimly lit. He sat in a chair near the bed, shirtless, a drink in his hand, boots still on.
Selena stopped at the door bowed, and left silently.
Isabella stood in the doorway, frozen.
He looked up.
"Go to the bed."
She didn't move.
"Now."
She obeyed, legs weak beneath her. When she reached the edge of the bed, her voice shook as she saw the restraints.
"Please... Rafael, not like this...."
He was already behind her. The clink of chains cut through the room.
He grabbed her wrists roughly, yanking her arms above her head and locking them to the bed frame. Her breath caught.
"No! Don't.....please..."
He shoved her forward, forcing her down onto the bed.
"You want to talk now? You should've thought of that before asking for my help"
Her legs kicked against the sheets. One ankle was caught and strapped tight to the footboard. She screamed, but it only earned her a sharp grip around her jaw.
"Quiet!"
He stuffed a silk tie between her lips, muffling her pleas. Her eyes went wide with panic.
He ran a hand down her side slowly, possessively. Then across her breasts, squeezing hard until she gasped behind the gag.
"You're mine. Every inch. Every sound. Every breath."
He tore the silk dress off her, exposing her skin to the cold air. She writhed beneath him, ashamed, humiliated, helpless.
His hands roamed greedily down her sides, over her hips, cupping her ass and squeezing hard, like she was a thing to be claimed. He leaned in close, breath hot against her ear.
"I own this body. I break it. I use it. I leave it....any fucking thing I want with it....you belong to me."
She tried to turn away, but he grabbed her throat, holding her still....not hard enough to cut off breath, but enough to warn.
"You'll learn to love this. One day, you'll beg for it."
He wriggled his trousers away revealing his massive hardness. It stared at her and she knew it was going to be rough.
He entered her with no warning, no care.
She arched back, screaming behind the gag. Pain lit up every nerve. Her hands clenched into fists above her.
He moved roughly, rhythm brutal and relentless. His grunts were low, filled with fury. He spoke between them filthy, cold, twisted words meant to remind her who she belonged to.
"This is what you're for."
"My personal little toy."
"You were made for my bed. Nothing else."
His hands returned to her breasts, squeezing hard, tugging at her body like it was his to reshape. His other hand grabbed her throat again, choking her lightly as he drove deeper.
She cried beneath him, not just from pain but from the collapse of whatever part of her still hoped he might stop.
When he finally finished, he pulled away like it meant nothing.
He stood. Fixed his belt. And without a word, he unlocked her wrists and ankle.
Her limbs fell limp. Her body was sore, stained, shaking.
Rafael didn't look back.
He walked out, closing the door like it was any other night.
And Isabella lay in silence, her body used, her mind splintered.
Her heart screamed into the silence, but no one heard.
Not even him.
She cried as she pulled the covers to her chest,El Diablo had damaged her, no one has ever humiliated her like he just did.
Isabella lay there for what felt like hours. Her lips were cracked. Her jaw sore.
Then slowly,She crawled off the bed, dragging the sheets around her like armor, and collapsed on the floor beside the wall. She didn't cry. Not at first.
She stared at her wrist, red and raw from the chains. Her fingers brushed the angry marks.
"This is my fault," she whispered, voice hollow. "I asked him to save my father. I let him put that ring on me."
She buried her face in her hands. Her body trembled uncontrollably.
"I'm not a wife. I'm not anything."
The door creaked open.
Selena stepped inside, quiet as a whisper. Her eyes flicked to the bed, then to the girl huddled on the floor.
Without a word, she knelt beside her and helped her up gently.
"Come," she said. "You can't stay here. He doesn't like anyone in his room after he's gone."
Isabella didn't resist. She let herself be lifted, carried by sheer will and Selena's strength.
They moved silently down the hall, Isabella wrapped in sheets, limping slightly with each step. Her body pulsed with bruises. Her soul hung heavy.
Selena led her back to her own room, helped her into bed, and then returned with warm water and a cloth.
She sat beside her and began tending to the marks. First the wrists. Then the ankle. Then the tender bruises that painted her thighs.
"You shouldn't be alone," Selena whispered.
"I am," Isabella murmured.
"No. Not while I'm here."
The warmth of her hands. The silence. The care.
Isabella closed her eyes as she drifted to sleep after the care tendered to her.
....
Morning broke. Sunlight poured through the high windows of Isabella's room, almost too harsh that it hurt her bruises.
She lay still in bed, eyes open, staring at the ceiling. Her body ached, but her thoughts were louder than the pain.
This isn't life. This is survival.
Selena entered silently, carrying a fresh tray of food....warm arepas, sliced fruit, and coffee. She paused at the door, then placed it on the side table.
"You should eat," she said. Her voice was cautious, but not cold.
Isabella turned her head slowly. "Thank you."
Selena nodded, but didn't move to leave. She folded her arms and leaned against the wall.
"He didn't come back last night," she said. "He's gone for now. That gives you some space."
"Where did he go?"
"No one knows where El Diablo goes. He returns when he feels like it."
Isabella pushed herself up, wincing slightly.
"I want to see more of this place. The house. The people."
Selena hesitated. "Are you sure? You're not fully healed."
"I need to know where I live. What surrounds me. Who watches."
Selena studied her, then slowly nodded. "Fine. I'll take you again. But don't speak to anyone unless they speak to you. And if you see Señor Caleb again, keep walking."
Isabella's eyes narrowed slightly at the name. "He's dangerous." Selena said.
"He's worse than Rafael. At least Rafael doesn't pretend to be something he's not. Caleb smiles when he's about to hurt you."
Selena dressed Isabella in a modest navy-blue dress with long sleeves that hid the bruises. She tied her hair back into a soft braid, and together they stepped out into the mansion.
The hallways were quieter today. A few guards stood watch near the main stairwell, but their eyes dropped when Isabella passed. They dared not look at El Diablo's wife.
In the courtyard, gardeners trimmed hedges in silence. They bowed when they saw her.
The cook glanced up from her post in the kitchen as Selena passed with Isabella in tow. She offered a tight nod, nothing more.
They paused outside the glass corridor leading to the west wing.
"That's the wing Rafael doesn't use," Selena explained. "Too many memories. It belonged to his mother. He locked it up after her death."
Isabella stared at the frosted glass doors. "Is anyone allowed in?"
"No. Not unless you want to lose a hand."
"What happened to his mother?"
"No one knows, I only know he loved him mom dearly and would certainly kill for her,it is believed he became dreadful after she passed"
Isabella said nothing as she nodded.
They kept walking.
As they rounded a corner toward the garden, Caleb stepped out from under a shaded pathway, casually tossing a small stone between his fingers.
Selena's body tensed.
Caleb grinned. "Out for a stroll, ladies?"
Isabella kept her gaze forward, her back straight, lips sealed.
"No words for me today, Señora Navarro?" he asked, stepping into their path.
Selena stepped in front of Isabella. "We're just walking."
"Of course. And I'm just asking." Caleb's tone was honey-laced. "But it's rude not to greet family."
He leaned close, voice low. "You must be tired of Rafael's hands by now. Maybe one day you'll want someone who knows how to touch without breaking."
Isabella's hands clenched at her sides.
Selena spoke sharply. "We need to go."
Caleb stepped aside, still smiling. "Enjoy your tour, Señora. The walls have ears and so do I."
They walked past him quickly, hearts racing.
Once out of sight, Selena muttered, "Stay away from him. If Rafael is the storm, Caleb is the poison in your water but somehow El Diablo trusts him."
Isabella didn't speak.
But inside, something had shifted.
She was beginning to listen to the silences. Beginning to learn the weight of each glance. Beginning to understand that in a house ruled by devils, survival would take more than tears.
It would take strategy.
And silence was her first weapon.