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    Vanquished [The Encounter Trilogy]
    Vanquished [The Encounter Trilogy]
    Vanquished [The Encounter Trilogy]
    Ebook250 pages4 hours

    Vanquished [The Encounter Trilogy]

    By Pamela Ann

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    About this ebook

    Puzzled by Hugo's mercurial attitude, the damning bed of flowers and Julien's warning, Isobel found herself in chilling territory. Stuck between vowing to find the real reason behind it all and fearing for her life, Isobel must summon the courage to fight for the man she loved or lose everything she held precious in her heart.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherPamela Ann
    Release dateJun 12, 2018
    ISBN9781386551966
    Vanquished [The Encounter Trilogy]
    Author

    Pamela Ann

    is a New York Times and USA Today Best Selling Author. She studied Fashion Marketing in United Kingdom and has a degree in Business. She has a penchant for pastries, dogs, renaissance paintings, steamy angst-filled novels and traveling.  Get personal notification through your email when Pamela Ann has something new coming out. Join in on special two-chapter previews for upcoming releases, giveaways, current promos, announcements & more. SUBSCRIBE FOR THE NEWSLETTER HERE: http://eepurl.com/PnuMj YOU CAN ALSO FOLLOW HER... Website: http://pamelaannbooks.com Blog: http://pamelaannbooks.blogspot.com Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pamela.annauthor Twitter: https://twitter.com/PamelaAnnAuthor  

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      Book preview

      Vanquished [The Encounter Trilogy] - Pamela Ann

      Prologue

      ISOBEL

      It might seem silly if you think of it, but there’s nothing to laugh about if you end up dead, Isobel. Julien’s heavily accented voice resonated in my mind, a stark reminder of what I intended to embark upon.

      Life threw me into a tailspin of profound love, loss, and immense hate, a darkness that embraced you until it choked the breath out of you. Then it showed me that it’s possible to find hope amidst the chaos.

      I had realized that, for me to acquire true happiness—one that people sung praises about, one that gnawed at your soul and imbedded the kind of tranquility one could only attain with unconditional love—I must fight for it. I must endure the obstacles that came to test my endurance, my faith.

      And I would do just that.

      I knew Hugo desperately needed me to simply move on and pay heed to Julien’s warning, but I had come this far after irrevocably falling in love with all of my heart, and it was now asking me to give it all up without looking back, as if it never happened. Well, that was just unfathomable to me.

      If I based my decision on Julien’s warning and Hugo’s swift rejection of me, I would never get to the truth. And since I had already come this far, there was no way I could turn back and live a life without Hugo in it.

      It was all in or nothing, and I had to live and let live.

      1

      Isobel

      It had been four, long days since that last night in Paris when I had last seen Hugo in the flesh, four days since I had made the vow not to give up on him. It was imperative I gathered my bearings before appearing before him and fighting for what was ours. That perspective might be deemed drastic, irrational even, but I simply couldn’t walk away from him. It was just too impossible to comprehend, even if my life could very well be at stake here. Nevertheless, my mind would forever remain unchanged, and time could only tell where my fate lay, dead or alive.

      Earlier today, I had taken a leave of absence from my part-time job as a concierge at one of London’s prestigious establishments. I didn’t divulge much information, apart from it dealing with family and personal matters. My request coincided with my father’s previous call to the hotel, demanding to speak to me, but I had since told him off, that my work wasn’t a place for him to harass me, before hanging up on him, so the management team had somewhat of an idea of what my father truly was—an inebriated, soulless monster.

      I had apologized profusely, but after my father’s tenth phone call, it seemed irrelevant to even try to explain Constantin Callas’s erratic behavior. Before I had heatedly cut the line off, he was complaining about my mother and how he wasn’t able to see her because of my aunt’s interference. Translation: he couldn’t get his hands on her to abuse her further because there was an audience in the background, making sure he wasn’t doing terrifying things to my mother like he normally would when incensed. He was on his last leg of hope, and it seemed he didn’t have any resources left to funnel his addiction.

      Thinking about him and his wretched selfishness made me weary, praying for some enlightenment or some change coming from him that wouldn’t be a waste of time. Ultimately, however, I came to the conclusion that some monsters loved the way they were and had no desire to change. My father was one of them.

      Exhausted from dwelling upon my father’s shortcomings and monstrosities, I was in my bedroom with my laptop on the bed, browsing through plane tickets, when I heard a steady knock on the door.

      Yeah? I called out, wondering what Claire needed this time. She usually liked to borrow my things, but it had been more often than not lately, ever since she began seeing Noah, the man whom I worked with.

      It’s Damen, actually. May I come in?

      Upon hearing Damen’s familiar voice, I paused, holding my breath, glancing towards the door. Then I decided to shut my laptop and place it on top of my rustic side table.

      Yes, of course. Come in, I hollered back just as I was composing myself for his impromptu visit.

      He and I had been rather distant as of late. It was understandable since I had urged him to move on and told him seeing me would only make it much more difficult for him to see other women.

      Damen entered my cozy sanctuary, dressed in his casual attire of jeans and a plain white shirt. Iso … he timidly greeted with half smile. Am I interrupting you?

      For Damen to unexpectedly show up at my flat, it meant something was up. If he was intending for us to reconcile, well, he should know better.

      Not at all, Damen. It’s always good to see you; you already know that. But is there something I can help you with? I matched his smile before protectively placing a pillow on my chest and hugging it tightly. Is everything good with you?

      He seemed conflicted. Me? Oh, yeah, all is well. As expected. Instead of taking a spot on the bed, he remained standing at the foot of the bed as he inserted his hands in his pockets, fidgeting. Well … I don’t know how to put this properly into words, but I almost ran into your father down the street on the way to my flat, and he seemed as if he’s been around the bend once again. He’s not hurting you again, is he, Iso? Because, if he dares to touch you again, I won’t be held responsible for what comes after.

      The mere mention of my father on Damen’s lips made me tense, just as I felt my skin prickle in slight terror at the knowledge that the monster had finally landed, most likely scouring the streets, looking for me. If he couldn’t hurt Mother, he would surely seek the next one in line—me.

      Damen had seen the marks my father had left on me, but they hadn’t encountered each other since Damen had found out a year and a half ago. They had been subtle marks, but Damen was no fool. He easily saw through my defensive lies, and I had been too broken and shattered then to keep on with the fabrication.

      Taking a steady breath, I coached myself to calm down and think rationally. London was not the safest place to be, not right now … not when Constantin was hunting for me like a hound. I had to leave right this instant.

      I need your help. I need to get out of the country right now, the first flight out.

      Of course, he rapidly replied, eager to help. Where do you plan on heading? Back home to Athens? He’d most likely find you there.

      I shook my head. No, definitely not Athens.

      There was only one place I would feel safe. Well, it was a person. And I had better seek him out immediately. If this was between life and death, I would rather seek the comfort of knowing I had fought hard to live the life I believed in … with Hugo.

      2

      Isobel

      Making sure I had my passport, money, credit card, and a few toiletries, I didn’t bother packing clothing. I didn’t have time. I needed to dash out of there as soon as possible before it was too late.

      Ready? Damen asked me with a guarded look.

      My heart pounded at the sight of his handsome face, contorted and looking tense, as if he were readying to attack someone. God bless Damen’s heart. He was too good for me.

      Yeah, I am, I breathed out.

      He led us both out of the bedroom then towards the front door, and upon opening it, I felt as if my heart had lurched and lodged in my throat at the deadly sight of my father with his bloodshot eyes, thinly pressed lips, and a sneer that made my skin crawl. In an instant, I was transported back to my old life in Athens, frightened as I waited for his attack. Nevertheless, Damen’s steel grip on the side of my shoulder reassured me this time was different. This time, I had someone to protect me. I was safe. Constantin wasn’t going to hurt me, not when there was an audience. He never preferred it when there were other people around. I supposed he felt powerless when there was someone much stronger than his shrinking frame.

      Going somewhere, Isobel? he hissed between his teeth, as if he were trying to contain his anger as he focused his eyes on me, ignoring the fact that Damen was right beside me.

      While he gazed at me pointedly, I could almost hear him growl.

      Strengthening my resolve, I matched his fiery gaze, willing to battle this out with him. Yes, as a matter of fact, I am, so will you please move out of the way? You’re not welcome here, Constantin.

      An eerie gurgle of laughter, as if to mock me, came out of him, his eyes seeming amused yet not. Watch out, little girl. You can run, but you cannot hide from me. I know you too well. I’ll find you again, and maybe after that, there won’t be a next time.

      Before I or Damen had the chance to fight back his threatening words, he left. The second he was out of sight, my body felt cold and weak. Having Damen close somehow helped me trudge my way towards the pavement where we could hail a cab.

      Isobel, your father … You haven’t told me much, but he wasn’t just threatening to kill you the next time he saw you, was he? Damen carefully asked.

      My father’s just being overly dramatic. I tried to reassure him that it was simply because he was inebriated or in need of cash. It was not necessary to drag Damen into my world of complications. He had helped me enough. This was my battle to fight through, not his; therefore, it was best if he was kept in the dark. After all, knowing how he was, he would probably feel protective over me and put himself in harm’s way just to make sure I was fine. Like I had stated before, he was too good for me.

      And as for his statement, his hunch most likely wasn’t far off. It seemed as if death was chasing me everywhere I went. There was no escaping it. Wherever my fate rested, I just wanted to make sure I did the best I could.

      Damen tried to discuss my father’s visit inside the cab, but I gently attempted to put his questions to rest. He was asking questions I wasn’t ready to answer, let alone reflect on myself. My father was as good as a stranger to me, and if the time came when I had to face him, hopefully I would be better equipped then, physically and mentally.

      The ride towards Heathrow was a solemn one. I could hear Damen think as he directed worried gazes at me from time to time, and I knew there were no words to calm his thoughts after what he had witnessed from my father.

      I was trying to stay strong and keep my wits about me while also trying not to divulge anything, anything at all that might cause this façade to crumble. I couldn’t risk that. It was better to keep my mouth shut. There were some things in life that were best not shared, most especially things that few people could understand.

      Parting with Damen at the airport was bittersweet. It was obvious he wasn’t keen on me going to Monaco, yet he also knew it could probably be the safest place for me to hide. Not only was Hugo powerful, but he had the means to keep me safe from my father, though not the other lurking danger Julien had addressed.

      Since I didn’t know the villa’s address, the best solution was to go to his hotel. His most loyal, dedicated staff would surely alert their boss that I had arrived. They already knew my face, knew I was one of his longtime consorts.

      I could just see Julien’s displeasure from my drastic actions; however, I had already made a choice, and no one and nothing, not even the threatening prospect of death, could steer me away from Hugo.

      Upon arriving in Monaco’s closest airport in Côte d’Azur, I took a cab to Hugo’s world-renowned hotel, The Riviera. The beautiful, scenic Mediterranean Sea didn’t soothe my anxiety during the drive.

      What if Benoît stopped me before I got to see Hugo? He seemed fond of me, but I also knew he would give his life to Hugo. His loyalty was admirable, and he would follow what Hugo directed to him at any measure, which could mean that he would block me.

      However, it seemed as if luck was on my side, because when the cab deposited me at the luxurious hotel, and I strode into the lobby, I was welcomed with familiar smiles and warmth. I had expected somewhat of a less than stellar welcome, but I was encountering the opposite. Of course, some raised their brows at the drab clothes I had chosen to wear. Apart from that, everyone seemed to be in high spirits. It was as if nothing had changed. I supposed, in some ways, nothing ever did.

      Hugo ran his hotels with efficiency and thoroughness. He was kind to his employees, but for them to get rewarded, they had to prove their worth. Once that had been proved, Hugo didn’t hold back with his bonuses. A pittance to him, but to his loyal people, it meant the world.

      Clearing my throat, I tried to smile, but it felt strained as I paused before the pleasantly smiling attendant, ready to offer services. Hello. I’m not sure if you know me, but— I anxiously began, but she stopped me with a curt shake of her well-coiffured head.

      Miss Callas, it’s great to have you back with us.

      Her fluid response caught me off-guard. Oh, you know me, I replied with curiosity and evident shock. Was the gossip being spread that I was the recently axed woman from Hugo Xavier’s prominent lifestyle?

      Her smile was unfailing. But of course. It’s part of my job, she informed me without malice.

      Well … okay. Right. I gave a reluctant nod. Of course it is. It was a splendid thing that they didn’t seem to judge me. Then again, I supposed that came with the job description. It had to be. Reverting back to my present problem, I said, Well, I’m here to see Hugo. I know it’s late in the evening, but I was hoping you could announce my arrival to him if he’s available. That would be great. Thank you.

      Rest assured, I will do as you requested, Miss Callas. She gave me a placid smile before reverting her attention to the computer screen. She typed in a few keys before her eyes met mine and she slid a keycard towards me. While we contact Mr. Xavier, why don’t you unwind and take advantage of what our hotel has to offer, Miss Callas?

      I bit the bottom of my lip, wondering what to say next. Erm. Thanks. This was unexpected … There’s no need really. I could wait somewhere else: at the bar, in the office. It doesn’t really matter to me.

      We have strict instructions, and I won’t be the first one to break them. So if you please, Miss Callas, do us the honor of allowing us to serve whatever you wish, she replied with her stern-like, porcelain doll face.

      Strict instructions for Hugo’s women? For all women? Past, present, and future included? That could be a long bloody list.

      I guess … If it makes your job any easier, then I’ll wish away.

      After our exchange, I was personally escorted by a man named Philippe to the private elevator that solely Hugo used. I had been given a room key to the penthouse, but no direct message from Hugo.

      Once we entered the penthouse suite, Philippe took his time showing me the bells and whistles and whatever else could make my stay luxurious. All I had to do was snap my fingers and anything would be possible.

      If you need anything else, Miss Callas, this is a direct phone to reach me. Philippe handed me a cell phone that had his named programmed into the contact list.

      Everything was great—out of this world—but none of this lavishness mattered, not right now, anyway, not until I got what I had come there for.

      Excuse me. Do you happen to know when Mr. Xavier will arrive?

      He’s out of the country, Miss Callas.

      Fuck. Why didn’t that woman tell me downstairs? What should I do now? Wait it out?

      Uh, do you happen to know when he’ll be back?

      He could take ages to get there. Hell. I was beyond anxious, knowing he was a busy man. I never considered this, though. It was bloody stupid of me not to even consider his schedule, yet my frame of mind had been more honed into desperation and not the important bits, like Hugo’s work and travelling schedule.

      That’s all I know. Is there anything I can get you to make your stay more comfortable?

      Like the concierge woman, Philippe was pretty complacent about everything. If he saw the panic on my face, he didn’t comment on it. It was as if my emotions were irrelevant and what he cared about was getting his job done to a T.

      I shook my head. No, thank you. Everything’s great as it is.

      Hugo … Was he avoiding me and making all these excuses to keep pushing me away? If he cared even just a little, he’d eventually come to see me, right? He wasn’t that cruel, not after what we had … not after that.

      I could only hope he would give me the chance just to see him and have him hear me out. Waiting was truly nerve-wracking when my fate was hanging in the balance.

      3

      Hugo

      T he hotel just informed me that Miss Isobel Callas is waiting in the penthouse suite in Monaco, Monsieur Xavier. Benoît threw me a questioning look just as I began to climb into my private jet, which was sitting on the tarmac in Berlin, ready for departure to Dubai.

      Isobel. I thought of her as I gritted my teeth, my jaw locking as I wondered why she had decided to defy my demands. Had I not made things clear the last time I had spoken to her? What did she think coming to Monaco would gain? Had things unfolded differently, there could have been a slight chance. But ever since a few days ago, I was thoroughly reminded that this was

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