BELLA MARTIN 14

Martin

My father's goons restrained me while they tried to search me. I gave up because I knew it was pointless to fight. Knowing that I'd be better off remaining calm. Despite the fact that my father was duplicitous, I didn't even believe he'd ever hurt me. He was overly proud, and I was a part of it because I was a part of his legacy. The way I composed myself, how I took a stand to him, would represent him. Even though he had me physically at his mercy, I couldn't let him beat me. Surprisingly, I discovered that I wanted to master him even more. I wanted to demonstrate him that he really can not control me. That I'd managed to learn how to be a man by being the total opposite of him, and that I didn't have to intimidate or insult people to be a man. "He's clean, Mr. Metzger," said the goon. "I have already told you. I'm a doctor, not a thug. Something I wish you'd realize." My eyelids were at half-mast, as though nothing he said could even hurt me. Well, he actually could not hurt me. My father groaned as he held up the broken chip and wire assembly that had been slid inside my phone case. "And what about this? Why would a doctor like you would have a recording device like this? Why did you decided to meet me, insulting me in this manner, with a voice recorder? Isn't it true that you're also conducting surveillance on your father? Perhaps you're collaborating with the federal govt to take me down." I clenched my teeth. I had no idea I was carrying a recording device with me. Bella must have exaggerated the number of bugs she had. I should've realized she could not even be trusted. I pretended to be unworried. I lifted a shoulder and then let it fall. When somebody they cared about deceived them, my family knew how to act as if they didn't feel anything. The Metzgers' legacy, ahh. He stalked towards me, his eyes narrowed. He hadn't slapped me since I was a kid. We hadn't decided to give up on each other in a long time. Haven't since I'd discovered myself somewhere else, somewhere he wasn't. I distanced myself from him by enrolling in boarding school, apparently because it was the right choice, as my mother had told him, but in reality to get away. And I'd never return to him. I could tell he was planning to hit me. He loomed over me, an intimately acquainted threat that, rather than frightening me, made me smile. "What is it that you find so amusing?" In a peculiar way, I raised my brows. "I'm not sure, Dad; I was just starting to wonder if you really believe you can take me. Since I left you, I've learned a lot. And you've definitely gotten older. If you ask me, he's a little pudgy around the waist. However, if you want to give it a shot, you are welcome to do so. Throw a punch at it. It could be entertaining. And I think your...colleagues would appreciate it if you gave it a shot." He had no idea I'd been practicing martial arts for a decade and a half. But he'd always assumed I was just a bookworm youngster, so perhaps he'd like to find out for himself. He cocked his head at my smile and started to look me up and down, maybe for the first time, not as his disappointment of a son, but as a man. I had his appearance. Tall and dark-haired, with Metzger green eyes and broad shoulders, but his frame was beginning to sag. I could feel hard muscle beneath my shirt. I'd put in the time and effort. Working out had always helped me deal with my anger, which my father had undoubtedly never tried. I was no longer the same kid I had been. He stepped back and ironed his shoulders, as if he had never intended to harass and intimidate me. I held my ground and started to watch him reevaluate me. Had I made him happy? It didn't make a difference. It was not my intention to please him. My intention was to break free from him and finally get rid of him. Another goon entered through the open door. My father had how many goons? When goon number three whispered into my father's ear, he tilted his head, his features turning mirthless. I hoped I didn't age as quickly as he did. The darkness in him had completely taken over, and I didn't want to be more like that. He returned his grin to me. An evil grin. "Perhaps," he said, his tone so full of constrained rage that he bit his syllables, "You're attempting to work with somebody else." I raised my brows, not saying anything. "Maybe your mother?" It gave me a good laugh. "I'm working with my mom to the point where she would want me to give her grandkids," I thought of Bella. Her big brown eyes, and the way she felt in my arms, warm, soft, and genuine. It was depressing to think of her. I allowed the pain to fuel my rage. "And she's not going to get any of them anytime soon." Dad frowned at me and asked, "Is that true now? Did your girlfriend not do anything for you? ” "I don't even have a girlfriend," I stated flatly. Everything that had happened for both me and Bella had been a lie. She was not even my girlfriend, despite the fact that I'd been trying to think of her as such for about five minutes after she left my clinic the first time. Wishes and reality are not the same thing, or my entire life would have been different. He cracked a grin. "All right, fine. That's not your girlfriend. Your whore then." My blood began to freeze. “Pardon. What exactly did you say? ” "I said," he said as he stepped it up to me and leaned in close to my ear. “Your. Whore.” I didn't say anything, but my body completely tensed. His smile had softened considerably. "Oh," he exclaimed. "Do you want me to tell you about her? I've learned a great deal. That coffee shop girl. Is she as hot as I expected her to be in a strapless bra? Those tits are phenomenal," he leaned in again. And what about that ass? I'd like to pound on it. When you fuck her, I'm sure she jiggles. Doesn't she? ” The ice had melted. I was now consumed by hatred and rage. My veins were pummeling with fire. I clenched my teeth and refused to let him trigger me. It was a close call. When he saw my response, he gave me a half-smile. "But she's more than just a a piece of ass. Arabella De Guzman, is her name. And she is a private investigator" I didn't flinch nor blink. "Hmm," he mused. "So you were aware of that. Did you also know that your mother hired her to look into my, ahem, whatever it was? Womanizing.” "Is there any reason why I should be concerned about that?" He tapped his thigh with his hand. “Well maybe. If you're attempting to steal my money with your mother, you should be concerned." I snorted. "You still believe that everything revolves around your money. I have my own cash. I don't require yours. I went ten years without your assistance." "Yet you returned home with your tail between your legs, determined to get your hands on the cash in that good boy foundation." "Yes, those funds aren't for me, is it? It now belongs to the public." I was overjoyed that I had been able to accomplish this and thwart his plans. "What I needed to know was why the little bitch started panting all over you?" he narrowed his eyes and immediately started pacing around me. What does she want...with you if she's attempting to catch me cheating? ” "Are we finished here, Dad? " I spit out the word. "I need to get home to start packing for my long-distance move." "No," he said, glaring at me. " We're not done yet. I believe this is a mystery that needs to be solved. Do you think we should ask her? ” I tried not to reveal anything. "Who should I ask?" "The slut, the little bitch." “What?” His grin was snake-like. He nodded to one of the goons, and the hulking man in the cheap suit stormed out of the room, dragging Bella behind him, her hands behind her back. He pushed her around by her elbow, not too gently, and when he decided to bring her to stand in front of my father, he did so in such a way that she would lose her balance and fall into him. He gripped her behind before she yanked away and stood staring at everyone. "You're all a big bag of dickheads," she snarled, and notwithstanding my rage at her and dread at seeing her in danger, I thought she was fantastic. Her gaze softened as she met mine. "Are you all right?" "Did they hurt you?" she inquired." Soft and worried. Dammit. She didn't get to be sweet and caring about me. She had lied to me and deceived me. I gave her a death stare. She was dressed in all black, with her hair in a rumpled ponytail that was half-falling out. They appeared to have roughed her up a little, which I didn't like. Otherwise, she appeared to be planning to climb up walls and burst in windows like a cat burglar. Idiot. "Am I all right?" I couldn't take a breath. I was enraged. It made me feel dizzy. I couldn't decide whether I was madder at Bella or at my father. My rage shifted back and forth between the two. "I can't believe you're asking that of me." Of course, I wasn't fine. She wasn't either. What on earth was she thinking? Is she tracking following Aollo me? And started following me? Getting arrested by police? Everything was a thousand times worse. "I'm sorry," she apologized. Regretful. My head shook. This was too much for me to bear. No, not right now. "You know," my father said, his eyes darting back and forth between us, observing and checking our reactions. "Now that I look at her, I see that trying to call her a little bitch was a mistake." I cocked my brow at him, biting my tongue to avoid cursing him. "She's not small at all. I think a much better term would be 'fat bitch.'" I lashed out and jabbed my father in the jaw without thinking about it. He collapsed to the floor and gazed at me before bursting out laughing. His thugs managed to grab and restrained me. Each arm has one. I didn't fight back. I should not have done it. I'd raised my hand. "No, no, no," he said emphatically. Waving his hand at the thugs. “It’s a game he and I play, isn’t it, son? Who can kick the other's ass better? He'd never made a point before." He stood up and brushed himself off. He bared his teeth in a snarl when he smiled. "Martin, I didn't even think you'd have the guts to do it. Take a look at that. You have a lot of balls. I'm very proud of you." To think of all the years I would want him to be proud of me before I realized his admiration was misdirected and he only ever believed in the wrong stuff. "But it's not me you should be upset with." My father was not an elderly man. He usually let others do the verbal abuse, but he was strong. He enjoyed fighting. He enjoyed hitting. I could tell he was in the mood for it, and I didn't like his focus on Bella. My tension rose as he approached her. I wanted to tell him to get away from her, but I couldn't because he'd turn her against me. He would inflict pain on her in order to inflict pain on me. I had no choice but to get her out of there. I had to find a way to keep her safe. "Shall we ask the whore–" he asked, a half-smile on his face. "Please excuse me. Should we question Arabella about how she ended up with my son instead of me when she was offered a job to investigate me? ” Bella sighed and rolled her eyes. "Perhaps I prefer young beefcake to old, lumpy meat," she smirked. It was fantastic. I wanted to encourage her. "Hmm," he said, looking between me and Bella. “Smart ass. I'm not sure if it's sexy or rude." I avoided looking at her, instead focusing on my father. I didn't want him to know how much it bothered me that his thug had his hands on her, that he was pulling her arms back, tight, because she was a smart ass. "But I do not really think that's why you gave up on me and turned to my son. No. I don't think that's it," he said thoughtfully, shaking his head.I can see the gears in his head turning. I didn't like it when he started thinking and strategizing. He had always been coming up with something heinous. "Hired to collect evidence on my cheating...ends up dating my son..." He turned to look up at her. His eyes were bright and sharp. "When did the authorities make you the offer?" ” "I'm not sure what you're talking about." He let out a brief bark of laughter. "The authorities have been after me for a long time, but they can't get to me since my business organisation is too tight. I pick my associates far too carefully." "Pay attention, Mr. Metzger. As you can see, I'm not fed. I'm a part-time private investigator who acts as honeytrap bait." She laughed and motioned to herself. "I'm also your type." He gave her a sidelong glance. "Not tonight, you aren't." You should have taken better care of your appearance." She shook her head. "I dress professionally for the job." Her smirk was adorable. How awesome she was in front of my father. It kinda reminds me of the night I met her, dressed "for the job" in that white gown and stiletto heels, with creepy scumbag men all over her. She dispatched them one at a time, coolly and coldly. It wasn't the makeup and glam that drew me to her; it was the way she'd confronted all those creeps in their own territory without ever losing her dignity. It was the way she murmured at her phone while maintaining the air of being the graceful and elegant woman in command. Bella drew me in because of who she was behind the mask. That first night, I'd seen it. She'd agreed to let me in. And when I saw her again with her daughter, there she was, the real her, despite her efforts to keep her walls up and keep me at a length. But she had been unable to do so. She'd revealed her true self to me. She was smart, witty, lively, courageous, and honest. She'd lied to me about the probes. That was almost clear to me. It had nothing to do with us. It was all about bringing down my father. It was unavoidable. I even encouraged her to do it. But she'd let me into her heart. She had entrusted me with her soul. And I'd already given her mine. I felt all the colors of the setting sun in this dark, grimy storage facility. It was all because of Bella. Dammit. We needed to get out of here as soon as possible. "Does this appear to be a good fit for my son?" My father sneered the words, as if they could not really be possibly true. I laughed a little. Oh, he was having a great time tonight, capturing me, revealing me, and breaking me. So he reasoned. "Yeah, it sort of does," I confessed. She jerked her head around just to look at me, a look of surprise on her face and a flash of vain hope in her eyes before returning to blank. Cool and unfazed. I'm dressed for the job. My father was disgusted; his elegant face betrayed his contempt for my folly. "Martin, I'll never understand you. This would never be tolerated by your mother. She has never been anything less than flawlessly presented in any situation." "Perhaps because she felt compelled to make people believe that she likes you, Metzger. Because I'm sure she despises you, or she wouldn't even have hired me to catch you." His pupils constricted. He didn't agree with what Mom had done. He didn't, of course. Deceived. He'd been betrayed by her. That's what he got for acting as if we were all opponents. For trying to teach us that everyone could deceive us. "Yes," he said as he turned it around to face me. "Honeypot, you'd know all about having to pretend to like someone, wouldn't you? Didn't you pretend to like my son in order to obtain information? ” Her lips were pressed together. The mask was raised. "How does it feel to be betrayed, Martin?" he asked. It suddenly occurred to me that my mother's actions had caused him the most pain. He was in pain. I'm in pain. He had a flaw of his own. He felt betrayed, despite the fact that he had always told us to expect it. He had not anticipated it from her. To him, me stealing my foundation was nothing more than clever manipulation on my part. He probably liked me more because he was so cunning. But what about my mother? That was the source of his rage. And I did understand it because I had experienced the rage that comes from someone you care about deceiving you. I'd felt it when I discovered Bella was spying on me. But it had found a home where it had always rightfully belong. Regarding my father. The man who should have loved us but was more concerned with his maneuverings, money, and power, which he used to harm us all. "That's not good, Dad. That's not good." The chilling grin that spread across his face. "Would you like to exact vengeance on the slut who betrayed you?" ” That is something he would like. It was something he could grasp. This was something he could relate to and bond with. Revenge. Control. That was his native tongue. I couldn't bring myself to say them. I swallowed after nodding. “How? ” He ended up turning and sat on the edge of the desk, a big battered thing piled high with boxes. "The bitch is not as astute as she believes. She went off the rails. We followed after them. Did you know she has a child? ” "Please leave my daughter alone!" Bella's voice trembled as she spoke. The act is over. Yes, of course it was. She couldn't act as if she didn't care about her daughter. After all, she wasn't a very good liar. And she wasn't like my father, who didn't care about us as people, only as things that could reflect favorably or negatively on him. He'd take advantage of the fact that Bella cared. My father was a sociopathic psychopath. He was the type of monster who benefited on your fear and distress. As a result, I had to be very careful not to reveal anything. I'd take his and use it to my advantage. "Can you tell me about your plans?" I asked. I could hear Bella gasp for air. From ten feet away, I felt like I punched her in the gut. “Martin…” I didn't want to look at her. I refused to feel sorry for her. I clenched my teeth and turned away from her to return my attention to my father. He appeared to be very pleased with himself. "Well, you see, she's left herself defenseless. Her daughter is unprotected, which means she has a weakness that we can exploit. We could take her right now, and she wouldn't be able to stop us. A young girl and her great-grandmother. Weak.” "Please, Martin, don't let him do that," she begged, having difficulties against the goon who had her grip. "Please, I know what kind of man you are. You'd never let him." "Of course, the danger of what we could do to her child and grandma is just as effective as doing it, which basically says we have her under our control. Which...isn't a bad idea. We can use her for information." “Martin…please…” “Stop!" I stated. "You deceived me. You have betrayed me. You took advantage of me." "He doesn't really want to hear it, Arabella," my dad said smugly as he approached her. He decided to stand there, one finger running down her cheek, to her lips. "Tell her you wouldn't want to hear it, Martin," he said as he gently pressed his thumb into Bella's mouth. I couldn't take it anymore. "I'm not interested in hearing it, Arabella. You're nothing more than a charade. You've been faking it the whole time." I stared into her in the eyes, finally, my father's back turned to me, and she looked back, afraid, heartbroken. caught. "But now I know who you are," I said, allowing myself to reveal the truth to her. I adored her. Whatever actually occurred, I'd get her out of this, as well as her family. I'd shield her from my gaze. She gave a blinked. Recognizing. Then she sucked my father's thumb deeper into her mouth. My nostrils flared in disgust, but the goons on both sides of me paid no attention to me. Honeytrap. She was the nectar. And then there's the trap. My father believed he'd won when he said, "The game is over, Arabella." She drew away from him, her spit gleaming on his thumb. "What exactly do you want me to do? I will do anything? "She pleaded, her voice low and sultry. Oh, the game was over, that's for sure. I smashed my elbow into the nose of the goon on my right and delivered a roundhouse kick to the goon on my left's side. They both collapsed. I took a step forward to confront the person who was holding Bella, but it was too late.