Under Pressure [IAD Agency] (Siren Publishing Classic)

Bella, you think you are such a big deal, don’t you? God damn it, you are nothing without me. All those letters I wrote to you, pouring my heart out, and you abused that love! Now you won’t even take my phone calls! I know why, it’s that stupid sous chef of yours. How could you? I loved you!” She shook her head, screaming in pain as he cut her again.
    “Don’t lie to me! Now you will have to pay. It didn’t have to be this way. We were meant to be together, but you threw that away. All that talent, but no one understands you like I do. No one could love you like I do. You should have come to me when I asked. Now I have no choice. You gave me no choice.” She vehemently shook her head, but he just sighed at her response. The silent pleading for him to stop in her eyes was ignored as he continued to speak.
    God, he was crazy!
    He spoke softly as he leaned down. “I took care of your lover last night. Now I have to teach you what happens when you betray me.” She screamed in denial against her restraints. “Why couldn’t you just love me the way I love you? Why did you let him touch you? All those other men, I see the papers. I see what you do. You can’t hide from me. You want to be treated like a whore, because you are, aren’t you? You think you’re too good for me, don’t you, Isabella? We could have been together! We could have had a perfect life together. You should be at home cooking for me, being a good wife, not out whoring yourself!”
    He brought the knife up and sliced deep through the tendons of her right hand. Bella screamed, over and over again, crying against the pain so intense that it was unreal.
    “See if you can cook with your hand all fucked up. Always carting around these stupid knives. You love them so much, bitch. How do you feel about them now? How much will people love you if you can’t cook anymore?”
    Bella tried to kick the knife out of his hand with her feet, but he easily blocked her attempts. Sobbing now, she struggled to breathe. Dropping the knife on the bed, he got up and stood next to the bed. Slowly he began to remove his clothes, watching her struggling form before him as her eyes widened in horrified recognition of what he was going to do. He grabbed her legs and rose up over her to sit on her as her ripped her shirt open.
    “We were supposed to make love the first time on our wedding night, but you left me no choice. I could have loved you forever. Now, you pay!” he screamed as he slapped her across the face again and again. “You want to be treated like a whore, and now you’ll die like one. If I can’t have you, no one will.”
    His right hand came up around her neck, covered with her blood. “I always did like red on you,” he whispered evilly, laughing in her ear as his hand squeezed tighter, cutting off her air. The pain was unbearable, sharp, and so strong she prayed to break away from the reality of what was happening. As his other hand moved down to undo the button on her pants, she was thankful for the blackness that came to claim her.
     
    * * * *
     
    Bella jolted awake, woken by the sound of her own screams. Drenched with sweat, she fought to beat the cold, stark terror back from her sleep-weakened mind. It was just a nightmare.
    The same nightmare she had repeatedly for the past year.
    Early morning sunlight streamed past the creamy lace curtains through the window of Bella’s bedroom. Cheerful sounds of autumn from the world outside forced the nightmare back into hiding. Bella’s sobbing breath caught in her throat as she tried to gasp in air. She forced the hands that held the bedding in a death grip to release. Dammit, she was safe, safe in her own bed.
    Breathe, just breathe.
    She had had the nightmare every time she closed her eyes after she had woken up in the hospital after the night Victor Dane had tried to kill her.
    Bella had tried to respond to fan mail as much as she could, always getting a kick out of the fact that people thought of her as a celebrity. At first, Victor Dane had seemed like a nice, normal man who had sent her letters expressing his interest and appreciation in her craft. She had responded with a polite thank-you letter as she did with most of the letters that she received.
    Bella was a little shocked when Victor continued to write, his letters becoming more insistent that they meet. She had written a letter politely denying his request they meet and kindly telling him that, as flattering as his attention