Savage, Broken, Beautiful: A Sexy Contemporary Rom-Com Retelling of Beauty and the Beast

by Marian Tee

  “I can’t believe I thought of that,” Arabella said weakly as they made her way down the Great Hall.

  Nana started giggling again. “Oh, but I think it is very appropriate, considering that the master---” She stopped quickly, realizing what she had almost let slip.

  Arabella raised a brow. “Considering the master is what?”

  “Umm, nothing.” She changed the subject, saying, “You will love the gardens, I promise.” She nodded at the guards positioned by the front doors, and the men immediately pulled the doors open.

  Arabella’s eyes widened.

  The garden at the back of the mansion had been beautiful, but oh, this one in the front was amazing. Everything was larger than life, and the colors more vivid. It even had its own bridge, its own pond---

  “We skate there during the winter,” Nana shared eagerly, seeing where Arabella was staring. “And over there---” She pointed to the far side of the island. “We can ski and sled. We even used to have midnight bonfires, and there would be wine and hot chocolate, and oh, so much food from the master’s kitchen! Winter is magical here,” Nana boasted.

  “I see.” Don’t let yourself get swayed. Don’t let yourself get swayed.

  “You will like it here, Arabella. I promise.”

  Nana’s words were like a dose of ice-cold water.

  “Oh, Nana.”

  The smile from Nana’s face faded.

  “He bought me! He made me his slave! How can I forget that? And how can you all accept that?”

  “Because---” Nana gulped. “Because we think you’re the one who can make him happy---” Arabella had started shaking her head even before she finished speaking, but even so Nana said persistently, “It’s true, Arabella. We truly believe---”

  “Even if it’s so,” Arabella couldn’t help bursting out, “what about me?” She threw her hands up in helpless frustration. “What about what makes me happy?”

  “But you can be happy here, if you’d only give this a chance---”

  “And what about what’s right and wrong?” Arabella demanded.

  Nana didn’t answer right away.

  “I won’t be able to live with myself, knowing that I just went with whatever Aurélien Sauvage has planned for me simply because I have no choice!” Her voice shook at the end, and appalled at her near loss of control, Arabella started taking deep breaths.

  “I am sorry, mademoiselle.”

  Arabella didn’t answer. It seemed like everyone here was quick to say they were sorry, and yet none of them also seemed sorry enough to help her to leave.

  She took a slow sip of her coffee, and it was of course the loveliest latte she had ever tasted.

  Arabella squeezed her eyes shut.

  Perfection everywhere she looked, perfection in everything she experienced or tasted – but should it be enough?

  “Ms. Blume?”

  “Yes, Nana?” She kept her gaze ahead as she took another sip of her coffee, fearing that if she saw pity on the other woman’s eyes, she would lose it and start bawling like a kid.

  But oh, she was so tired and confused.

  Help me, God.

  And that was when she heard Nana say hesitantly, “You told me earlier that you were the practical type, mademoiselle. And with the island truly being inescapable – what is there for you to lose, to at least try and see if you could become the master’s friend so he would see things the way you do?”

  Whispers in the Dark

  In the distance, a faint melody played down the halls of the mansion, the grandfather clock heralding the arrival of midnight. Inside her room, Arabella was seated in front of the fireplace, her legs folded sideways under her, her chin propped over the curved armrest of the settee. She was lost in her thoughts when all of a sudden her senses began to stir---

  Arabella’s back shot ramrod straight.

  In front of her, the remaining embers flickered and crackled – it was the only sound in the room, save for the rapid beating of her heart that only she could hear. Or so she thought, but in truth she was wrong.

  The beast heard it, too.

  How does she sense my presence without seeing me?

  There could only be one answer, but it was also the one thing the beast would not allow itself to think of. Not now. Not just yet.

  Arabella wrapped her arms around herself. Even without knowing where he was, she could feel Aurélien Sauvage’s gaze from beyond the shadows branding her skin. His gaze was fire, and her body couldn’t help but melt under its heat. It was mortifying and sickening – was she so weak and susceptible that Stockholm syndrome had already taken hold of her after just a day of captivity?

  A part of Arabella wanted to keep pretending, to close her eyes to the truth. That part of her wanted to believe that if she ignored he was there, then he would eventually go away.

  But the other part of her…

  The other part of her knew to do so would be no different from running away. This part of her was unable to forget Nana’s insightful words earlier, and in the end, it was this part of Arabella that made her take a deep breath and say tremulously, “Bonjour, Monsieur Sauvage.”

  From behind the wall, the beast froze.

  Had it heard her correctly?

  “You are there, aren’t you?”

  The beast slowly shook its head. She was speaking to it. Even without seeing the beast, she was speaking with it and even though her voice shook, it was because of fear and not uncertainty.

  “Oui, ma belle,” the beast said huskily. “I am here.”

  Arabella slowly lowered her feet to the carpet. Her mind was still reeling, and she was doing her best to hang on to her composure. To know that he was there was one thing, but oh, to hear him speak---

  She took another deep breath. “I need to ask you a couple of questions, and the first one is the most important.”

  The beast did not hesitate. “Ask then.”

  “Do you intend to kill me – now or someday?”

  “No.”

  Her breath gushed out of her. She didn’t know how to explain it, but Arabella knew that whatever happened, Aurélien Sauvage meant what he said. “I’m, umm, glad to hear that.”

  A soft chuckle, the sound ridiculously deep and charming---

  Arabella quickly pursed her lips and moved it left and right.

  “What are you doing?” the beast asked, genuinely bemused.

  Keeping myself from smiling, Arabella thought grumpily. But out loud, all she said was, “I have another question.” And even knowing that it was futile, she couldn’t help looking around her then, searching for even the smallest hint of him in the shadows.

  “Go on.”

  Placing her hands against her sides to keep herself from wringing them together, she asked baldly, “Why me?” This time, there was no immediate answer but even so, Arabella asked persistently, “Why couldn’t it be someone more – willing? Someone who wouldn’t hesitate to say yes to whatever it is you have in mind---”

  “It can only be you,” the beast said finally.

  Her eyebrows shot up. “I don’t understand. Why can it only be me?”

  “Because of your words.”

  “My words?” she echoed blankly.

  “La Tour Eiffel,” the beast reminded her quietly. “You told your father that you would always believe in him---”

  Her face paled, and she shot to her feet when something became painfully clear to her. “You had us followed.” She shook her head in disbelief. “Why?”

  “Because I thought you or your father might say something to explain what happened when he had been caught---”

  “He was caught doing nothing,” Arabella interrupted sharply, “and he’s not the kind of man to steal.”

  “I know.”

  The two words nearly knocked her over, and Arabella’s head started to pound. It was just one shock after another, she thought dazedly. “You say you know---”

  “Because I do. I know everything that happens in my
company, I know everyone who works for it, and it is as you said about your father.”

  “Then why threaten to press charges against him?” she cried out.

  “Just because he had no intention to steal from me does not mean he is completely innocent of any wrongdoing. Someone made your father do something, and I suspect that he is in way over his head and he doesn’t even know it.”

  “It c-can’t be that bad---”

  “It is that bad, mademoiselle. The people who have a hold on your father – I know how they operate. Knowing that your father has been unable to complete his task, they will want to silence him, and it is why I have round-the-clock security guarding him.”

  “By silence do you mean---” Arabella’s knees began knocking against each other.

  Understanding exactly what she meant, the beast said grimly, “Yes.”

  This time, she could no longer keep herself upright, and she collapsed on the settee. Oh God. She rubbed her aching temples. Could her father truly be in that much danger?

  The sudden pallor of her skin was greatly disturbing, and the beast asked gruffly, “Are you okay?”

  Arabella laughed a little, but the sound was weary. “I’m like Rapunzel locked in the tower, but my hair isn’t long enough to help me escape, and my father is in a privately-funded witness protection program and he doesn’t even know someone wants to kill him. But other than that?” She flashed a thumb’s up sign to the shadows. “I’m totally okay.”

  “You’re in shock.”

  “You think?” she asked sarcastically.

  “I’ll send for someone to---”

  She waved the offer away and shook her head. “Please don’t. I hate when I’m being fussed over.”

  “But you seem to badly need fussing over right now,” the beast murmured politely.

  “I’ll get over it. I’m already getting over it. I’m just wrapping my head around things one at a time---” A thought occurred to her, and she grimaced.

  “What is it?” the beast asked right away.

  “I guess…this doesn’t make you that big of an asshole.”

  The beast was surprised. “Your words, ma belle.”

  “What?” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me it’s your first time to hear a woman swear.”

  Yes, the beast thought.

  She stiffened. “No way.”

  “I have not said anything.”

  “But I could feel what you were thinking.”

  “Is that so?” the beast drawled in amusement.

  Arabella turned red. “Laugh at me all you want, but is it really that unbelievable that I could guess what you’re thinking? I mean, come on!” She made a wild gesture to the shadows. “I’m talking to you even when I can’t see you, and I know it’s not through some kind of speakers.”

  Ah. The beast’s lips curved in a smile. “Touché.”

  The sudden acquiescence made her blink. She was not used to winning so easily. Even Maurice, dear old man that he was, could be stubbornly proud when it came to admitting certain mistakes of his.

  The beast chuckled. “You appear surprised.”

  “I am,” she admitted. “I’m used to men being more, umm, reluctant to admit when they’re wrong.”

  “Then you must have known the wrong men your entire life.”

  She pursed her lips and moved it from left to right.

  “You are doing it again,” the beast observed. “What is it for?”

  “None of your beeswax.” But inside she was panicking. Friends. This was supposed to be her, befriending her captor, so that she could eventually convince him to let her go. That was all it was supposed to be, all it should be.

  And yet because he was so damn charming---

  “It is that bad then?” he asked gently.

  Arabella blinked, feeling like she had been thrown into the deep end. “What’s that bad?”

  “The men in your life,” the beast drawled. “They are that bad it has made me your Prince Charming in comparison?”

  She choked. “Wow.” She choked some more, but really it was so she could make sure her cheeks didn’t end up turning red and give her away. “You’ve got some ego, to say such things.” And then she made a show of choking again. Why could this man read her so damn easily?

  “Not at all,” the beast said mildly.

  “If a man thinks he is not conceited, he is very conceited indeed.”

  “The man who does not value himself, cannot value anything or anyone.”

  There was a monumental pause – and then Arabella started laughing, and the beast slowly allowed itself to smile.

  “Did you actually quote Ayn Rand to me?” she couldn’t help asking laughingly.

  “And you quoted C.S. Lewis to me,” he countered levelly. “I can’t help but sense a hint of sexism in your observation, mademoiselle. How terribly disappointing.”

  She was doubled over now, clutching her sides, with Aurélien Sauvage sounding like the biggest prude in the world. She had to wipe her tears after, thinking that it had been such a long time since she had this much---

  Oh no.

  Her smile disappeared.

  Maybe – maybe she really was weak, after all. Because right now it felt like for one moment there she had actually forgotten he was her captor, she his captive. For one moment there – she had been having fun…flirting.

  “I need to ask another question.”

  The beast’s bright eyes narrowed at the sudden abruptness of Arabella’s tone, but even so he said softly, “You must know by now you may ask me anything.”

  “No.” Arabella’s tone was stiff. “I can’t actually presume to know anything because at the end of the day, you still own me.”

  The beast didn’t allow itself to be baited into contradicting the statement.

  Drat. Arabella jumped to her feet and began pacing to release some of her pent-up frustration. She should have known better to expect him to fall for that, but even so –

  Whirling around to face the shadows once more, she said curtly, “If you already know my father is innocent, then what about me? Why am I still here?”

  Ah. The beast stared at her thoughtfully. Was that truly what was bothering her – or something else?

  “Nothing changes,” he said finally. “You signed yourself over to me, and so you are mine.”

  Something inside of her stirred at the words, but she fought to ignore this, saying sharply, “You do understand that by saying those things, you’re not earning yourself any brownie points?”

  “Mm…”

  A strange kind of shiver ran down her spine, something that did not come from being cold – but from being hot.

  “I rather think it does.”

  She gasped. “Excuse me?”

  Her caramel brown eyes flashed fire at the shadows, but her ample chest was also heaving---

  The beast’s nostrils flared.

  That scent.

  He knew that scent.

  It was the scent of lust. Of arousal. Of desire.

  And it was coming from her.

  “You heard me,” the beast rasped. “I think you like hearing me say that you’re mine.”

  “You---” Something hotter than fire blazed over her skin at the words, and she instinctively crossed her arms over her chest when she actually felt her nipples start to pucker.

  “I think deep inside, you want a man who is stronger than you.”

  “And you’re that man?” Her laugh was supposed to be scornful, but it came out all shaking and breathless. Oh God, what was happening to her?

  “Yes, ma belle. Believe me when I say that no man is stronger than me.” And the beast’s lips twisted, for there was both truth and irony in its words.

  “H-ha!” Oh God, that sounded so lame!

  “It is the truth.”

  A low, husky laugh followed and Arabella almost covered her ears at how sinfully beautiful it sounded. He had sounded so utterly convinced – so utterly complacent – when he said
that he was the strongest man in the world. It was crazy! But oh God, it was sexy!

  Abruptly turning away from the shadows, she marched towards the bed. “I’m tired,” she said shortly. “I’m going to bed.”

  “Perhaps one night, I may be able to join you---”

  Arabella tripped over her own feet, and her face flamed as Aurélien Sauvage asked very politely, “Do you need assistance?”

  “Shut up!” Face flaming, she quickly got under the covers, making a show of ignoring him, but even so she could still feel his hatefully intense gaze on her, and oh, how her body ached because of it.

  This was so crazy!

  Arabella pulled the covers higher over her head, snarling, “Go away!”

  “Are you certain you wish me to go away?”

  The mocking concern in the voice – that tone which implied, deep inside, she wanted him to stay – got to her, propelled Arabella into a rage. Sitting up, she snapped at the shadows, “I will never sleep with you! Do you hear me? Never!”

  There was the faintest chuckle, and her teeth gnashed.

  “Do not say that word, ma belle. Has no one taught you that never is only a naughty girl’s way of saying yes?”

  Arabella threw her pillow into the shadows. “Asshole!”

  But all she got was another chuckle.

  “I will speak to you again tomorrow. Bonne nuit, Arabella.”

  “Go to hell.” She lay back down with a loud huff and pulled the covers over her. Then and only then did she allow her mask of anger to fade – and for her very real panic to settle in.

  Oh God.

  Even now, the way her name sounded on his lips made her breasts ache and feel restless inside.

  This was crazy. This was wrong. This was only supposed to be about her being practical, of them being just friends. Just friends. But why did her body seem to want more?

  Of Captors and Captives

  Arabella waited for Aurélien to visit her the following night. Even though she wouldn’t admit it to anyone, she had stayed up all night, waiting for him to come and hating herself for doing so.

  His absence puzzled and frustrated her, and for the rest of the day, she found herself obsessing over it. Why have her brought to the island – only to ignore her? It didn’t make any sense. None of this new life of hers made any sense.