Married To The Mad Vampire Lord

"Not you too…" she whispered in utter, disappointed disbelief at the realization that, just like Deven, Claire, who had been her friend since childhood and knew her better than anyone else, had gone against her as well.

She was so stunned that when she finally recovered from it, the only thought in her mind was to shake her maidservant.

"Not you too! How could you?!" she shouted, grabbing Claire by the shoulders. She shook her hard and screamed for her to tell them the truth, to tell them it was Deven she had gone to meet. But no matter how much she begged, Claire only cried out, "I am telling the truth! You went out to meet men! You ordered me not to tell anyone and whispered to me many indecent things you do out at night when you return!"

"She's lying to you, Deven did this to me! He made them rape me! They hurt me so much; it still hurts! Listen to me, Ma, you are a woman yourself, you should believe me! I swear I didn't throw myself at men! Somebody listen to me, you can't let him go like that! PLEASE!" she cried, lunging for the locked door as her parents and everyone present left the room, her mother weeping, her father disowning her all over again and washing his hands off her.

The more no one listened, the more Isabelle's emotions became tangled and chaotic, and anger slowly turned into her only way to cope. It became her escape, until she was left weak and exhausted.

Night after night she was hunted by Deven's betrayal and the faces of the men who had hurt her so badly sitting down still hurt. She was in pain, but nobody could see it.

Why couldn't they see she was suffering? Why wouldn't they believe her and see that it wasn't her fault? How could they trust strangers over their own daughter?

How dare he hurt her like this and get away with it?

Soon, news reached Isabelle that Deven had returned from Barbara, when in truth he had been back for a while. That set her emotions aflame again, and she started to yell that it was all lies, a setup by him, and that they were playing right into his hands!

Isabelle's behavior began to worry her family. She stopped eating and grabbed anyone within reach to shout that Deven had done this to her. It reached a point where she became so sick that traveling in that condition couldn't be done, and her family were forced to postpone the traveling and bring a doctor to examine her.

It was then discovered that she was pregnant.

"She's carrying a babe, Your Grace." The doctor delivered the news to her parents.

Isabelle stared at the doctor like he had grown two heads before she looked down at her flat stomach. A sick, nauseous feeling consumed her at the thought of carrying a child conceived from that violence, a child that came from men like that.

In blind panic she began to hit her own stomach, wanting to rid herself of whatever was growing inside. "I DON'T WANT IT! I DON'T WANT THIS CHILD! I DON'T WANT ANYTHING OF THOSE MEN!" she screamed as she grabbed the doctor who was examining her and shook him. "REMOVE IT FROM MY BODY!"

To get her to calm down again, she had been forced to drink a medicine that put her to sleep for the rest of the day.

That night when she woke up, left alone in her dark room and rocking on the chair numbly, she heard the doorknob turn. She stopped the rocking and turned to see the man she hated the most in the world standing in the doorway, the man who had destroyed the life she had known.

Her fingers clenched around the fabric of her nightdress as hate and loathing consumed her at the sight of him.

"Good evening, Isabelle. How have you been?" he asked in that mock-concerned voice that made her hate him all the more.

How dare he come into her chamber after what he had done to her? She thought but stayed silent.

"Your mother told me you are not eating, and you speak words that do not make sense," Deven said as he closed the door behind him and walked forward, hands tucked casually in his pockets.

"You will get yourself sent to the madhouse if you continue like this, my love. Accept that you are at fault, and we can resume our life and look forward to our marriage as if nothing happened. I told you already that I will still marry and love you," he added, a smile pulling at his lips as he held out his hand towards her.

"I have told your parents not to send you to the west to have the baby. I will take it as mine and marry you. After all, your fallen reputation has saved mine. I will take responsibility and be a good father and husband. Think about it, Isabelle, and drop these nonsense stories you keep trying to make everyone believe, because nobody will. I have great influence; I can pay anyone to say what I want them to say, and if you keep being stubborn… I can also pay a doctor from the asylum to make everyone believe you have lost your mind," he said nonchalantly.

"You are a monster, Deven. I wish I had never met you. I wish you would burn in hell with those men…" Isabelle said, hot tears spilling down her cheeks. "I hate you with everything in me. I will never marry you, even if you were the last person in the world. I will make you pay for ruining my life…" she gritted, glaring at him with burning hazel eyes.

"Poor thing. You are powerless in a world where men rule, where I rule. You will learn to love me again if you drop your foolish determination to tell everyone and destroy me," he replied, laughing at her as though she were a naive fool. That laughter was the last straw of Isabelle's restraint.

"I will kill you!" she hissed, lunging at him like an arrow released from a bow. She moved with sudden speed that even he did not expect. She slammed her weight into him against the door and began to pound her fists at his face, trying to wrap her hands around his throat to kill him.

He recovered quickly enough to fling her off him, pushing her away with such force that she crashed into a table. The impact broke the table; she cried out in pain and bled from a wound on her arm.

"You bitch, I am trying to do you a favor by marrying you even though you have been used. A used item should be grateful that someone else is willing to pick them up. But I have changed my mind, you will suit better in the madhouse," he said as he wiped blood from the side of his face where she had hit him.

Isabelle glared at him and pushed herself up from the ground, clutching a piece of broken wood in her hand to attack him again. But just then, the door burst open and her parents and servants rushed into the room at the sound of the crash. Immediately, Deven slipped into the persona of a wounded man, clutching his ribs and groaning in pain.

"Your Grace, she attacked me all of a sudden…" he gasped weakly.