Turmoil reaches my thoughts as I play back the devastated look on Isabela's face. An uncomfortable ache stirs in my stomach. I didn't expect the night to end like that. It seems like every-time Isabela appears to be happy-- the world takes three steps back.

It's spiteful—the wonders of the world. No one can understand why we go through the things we go through — we just have to march forward. We aren't allowed to stop and mourn our losses before being hit over the head with something else. Time is irreversible.

It's two in the morning, and Damien is pouring us a drink. After his fit, he boarded all of Isabela's windows and locked her in the bedroom as punishment — it seems more like a reward since she gets to be alone like she wants. The colorless drink whisks in my grip as I inspect it before setting it aside.

There are more critical things to be doing than to be drinking. Paola steals my untouched drink, wiggling her eyebrows at me as she downs it in one go. Her blonde bob is curly, appearing shorter than usual from tight ringlets.

"Is she mad at me?" Paola asks, stealing a glance at her brother. "I didn't mean to cause any harm."

An ominous smile frames Damien's face as he swallows the vodka. "Don't worry about it. Julian took the fall for you. If she hates anyone, it's him."

"Sorry." Paolo pouts her overly injected lips and wraps her hands around my biceps, leaning her head on my shoulder. "I hope I didn't make things awkward between you two. Your job is hard enough without her attitude."

"I'll live," I reply, fidgeting with my thumbs on my lap.

A tornado of frustration whirls through me, leaving me in disoriented shambles. She wouldn't let me explain. I get it. I wasn't being a genuine friend, but Paola caught her red-handed. With my confirmation or not, it was a ticking time bomb ready to happen. I could've lied.

I should've lied.

But time is binding.

Our actions lead to these consequences.

"See." Damien downs his fourth shot of vodka. "Julian doesn't worry about people's feelings. He always gets the job done. Every day, I see why Rake recommended you."

"Oooo," Paola singsongs, fanning herself with her hand. "I love a mystery man. They tend to open up when I get the job done." She winks and pokes her tongue at her cheek.

Disgust washes over Damien. "Where're your manners? I don't talk about raw dogging Isabela to you. Besides, I don't think you're up Julian's alley."

Sadness coats her eyes. "What? What's wrong with me? Most men think I'm perfect."

What's worse than an irritating man-child? A bratty, ruthless younger sister.

"You are." I lied through my gritted teeth. "However, I don't compromise my work ethic with my personal ones. You fall into that category as my employer's younger sister."

Paola stomps her feet and jolts up from the cushioned couch. "That's bullshit! You deserve to have a little fun, and I always get five-star reviews. Just once. I promise I won't be a clingy stalker."

"No."

My answer isn't enough to tame her. Paola pulls out the pins in her hair, causing the locks to fall over her face as she sinks to the floor. She grasps my trousers, using her strength to pry the pants off my body. My stomach bubbles with nausea as I wrestle her hands off of me. It's not easy. Mainly because I'm trying to be a gentleman, but Paola is a catty woman. She shares more qualities with her brother than I thought.

"Gesu Cristo," Damien growls as he slams the tumbler against the glass table. "You're fucking embarrassing me, Paola."

(Jesus Christ.)

She screams, her hair thrashing in the air. "You're so annoying! Can't you just force him to fuck me? I'm sure he won't complain after it's all done. Who doesn't like pussy and money?"

I scoff. "Playtime is over. I'm going to go back on post."

Before leaving, I snatch one of the bobby pins on the table and hook the accessory on my cuffs. My body urges to do the forbidden. A spell has been cast on me, compelling me to check on her. I know I'm the last person she wants to see, but she's first on my list. All I want to know is if she's okay.

Most of Damien's capos have resigned their posts for the night, except for the ones outside the perimeter. Rake informed me about the Moltisanti legacy before advising me to take the job. Apparently, they've been having territory issues with the Fanucchi family. There have been heavy hits on both sides-- it's anyone's game. Time will tell when they will come after Damien and all he's worth.

Cautiously scanning for any signs of lingering eyes, I straighten the bobby pin to fit in the keyhole and jostle it around until a lock sounds. I exhale. Placing my ear at the door, I hear nothing but the distant harmony of her vinyl. Hope wavers in my chest. It's not all bad. She's found something Damien hadn't destroyed.

The door creaks, causing me to grind my teeth together as I pray Isabela doesn't notice it. It's like a Godzilla tore through her room. Damien might as well be Godzilla. Except he isn't truly the king of monsters— the king of jokers fits his bill better. There's a path created in the disaster leading to Isabela's bed.

Her frail body lays diagonally on the mattress, her feet hanging off the bed. A small blanket like the ones used after the mattress sheet covers up to her neckline. Following her path, I sit on the bed and mentally curse at myself when she shifts in her sleep. My heart stills as she replaces the stuffed bunny in her hand with my knee and relaxes her head on my thighs.

My hands remain up like I would catch a disease or something if I touch her. She seems content-- for the moment being. Maybe she's dreaming about living her dream of being an architect and building houses for sale. It's not far-fetch. I don't believe in a lot of things, but sometimes the impossible happens.

Without realizing it, my finger lugs a strand of hair behind her ear, causing Isabela to snuggle closer into my lap. The delicate light from the candles heightens her features, making her angel-like. A sun in a field full of moons. She shines brighter than any orbit I've laid my eyes on. It's creepy.

I'm turning into a full-blown stalker.

Fuck.

I'm violating thousands of my own codes of conduct.

Maybe this was what Asiel meant— how the world shifts when the woman of your dreams invades your orbit. I never cared much for love and relationships. Nor was I an asshole walking around and fucking anything with a pulse. Nobody interests me further than a one-night stand. There just wasn't ever a purpose for needing to fall in love.

I had enough at stake.

Adding a lover would only dig my hole further.

Until tonight, I suppose.

I don't easily obsess over things, but Isabela might've started a new habit. It might not even be anything compared to the way Asiel felt about Mika, but Isabela has anchored me in. She's caught me in her net like a flailing fish, and fuck me-- I don't want to be saved. There has to be a way for me to satisfy my thirst for her without crossing the invisible line.

How do I help her out of this lifestyle without jeopardizing everything else in my life? How do I support her without growing attached to her? We can't ever waver on that line-- or that means destruction for both of us. All my desires for something more disappear tonight because I'm not going to step over that line.

She's so be-

The room goes white.

Everything trembles as my eyes meet the night sky. Particles fly through the air, decorating our faces with dust. The other side of Isabela's room is missing, collapsing to the ground. My arm shields her frame from being harmed by the chandelier disintegrating.

Isabela jolts up from her deep slumber, her irises wide and alert from the thunderous noise from the outside. Her blanket slips from her body, revealing her pajama set with teddy bears on them. Confusion mars her face as she realizes my presence.

"What are yo-." Her sentence is disrupted by another throbbing shake from a grenade exploding.

Instinctively, I cover her body with mine, receiving a few thuds from the debris. It's painless. Nothing serious. Gunshots rapid fire as if we were at a gun range, and Isabela silenced the sound by using her palms to cover her ears.

"We need to go."

I don't give her time to argue. I simply princess carry her— my arms supporting her back and legs. It's like we were made to be a team when she wrapped her arms around my neck, inching herself closer to me— her fresh scent of vanilla.

"Mr. Lui! Wait! I forgot Button!" Isabela yells, glancing over my shoulder. "My teddy bear. We can't leave without him."

Her wretched expressions tugs at my severed heartstrings. I can't believe I'm about to turn around for a freaking teddy bear. This animated object better be fucking worth it. He better be holding a million dollars in his stomach.

As I reach Isabela's bedroom door, the corner of my eye catches a figure moving on the other side of the hallway. A grenade arrives at me like a death sentence.

"Shit!"

Even a marathon runner couldn't escape in time before the explosion erupted. My hold on Isabela loosens, and she falls, tumbling down the hallway like a spinner. My feet fail to combat against the blunt force, and I bang my skull against the podium in the hallway.

"Motherfucker." I curse as an ache spreads through my face like a rash. But then all my thoughts collide, meeting in the middle. "Miss Arias!"

Determination erases any ounce of pain in my body as I hoist myself up and scan through the smokey dust. I think I see her. Coughing, I swipe the smoke out of my face and trek toward her. That stupid organ is having a parade in my rib cage.

My finger searches for a pulse on her neck, counting seventy-five beats on my watch. She's out cold. Blood floods out from her ears and her nostrils. That's it. I don't know who the culprit is, but I'm going to shoot a bullet through each of their skulls for causing this to her.

I've always been a gun user— actually in the Spanish mafia. We like to go old school with machetes, knives, and a simple chancla. A person doesn't know true terror until a chancla arrives their way.

"Mmm?" Isabela furrows her eyebrows. "What happened?"

Using my fingers, I tilt her face towards me, her eyes wavering with a million questions. "Damien must be under attack. You don't have to worry. I'm going to keep you safe. You will make it out of here."

"I don't want your help!" she blurts, tearing her chin from my grip and holding onto the wall for support. "Look what receiving your help did to me? I'm bleeding. I rather take my own chances."

My mouth slacks open in pure disbelief. "You got to be kidding me."

Fine.

I get it.

The wound is too fresh. It would've been mindless of me to assume she would automatically forgive me, but I believe in something. If she refuses to let me physically help her, I'm sure there are ways to indirectly protect her.

No one will touch a hair on her head.

Like snipers, my irises lock onto figures, and I whip the gun out from the hostel, and blast them in their skulls. Horror flashes in their eyes like a ray of light-- their bodies thud to the ground against the rubble.

Isabela rests her hand on the granite staircase, glancing down at the battle beneath us. Army of men with every gun you can imagine, filling the living room with corpses. There's a pile immense enough to be a prop on the walking dead.

"Miss Arias." I place my hand on her shoulder. "The emergency room. Under the floorboards."

She shakes her head. "I won't be able to make it. I'll die if I go down there."

Terror plague my chest like a virus as I drag Isabela's arm, tugging her body with me to the ground. A bullet flies into the wall where Isabela's head stood target. Her lips tremble as she realizes how close she was to her death.

Isabela clenches a fistful of her teddy bear pajamas in her hand on her chest. "Oh god. Mr. Lui, I don't think I can do this. I'm so scared."

Her breathing becomes vicious. Quick burst of air, in and out,  unable to relieve her lungs. She's gasping, her throat closing up, her shaking at the speed of light as tears pool in her eyes.

A panic attack.

"Miss Arias."

She ignores.

"Miss Arias!"

Fear is consuming her.

My hands cradle her face, tilting her chin to peek into her gut-wrenching irises. "Isabela!" Her name rolls off my tongue like it was designed for me. A sign of vulnerability glimmers in her eyes. It's crossing the line— detaching her from her future husband's clutch.

"Just look at me," I soothe her, massaging circles onto her skin. "Breathe with me. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. You can do this. You will live to see your dream come true."

I hold her hand, keeping her behind me in case anyone tries to shoot her— it will go through me first. There are stakes when you're a person's bodyguard— you have to be willing to give your life up for them to get the job done. Fear is left on the doorstep.

I'm not afraid to be consumed by the darkness.

It's actually my best friend.

With every bullet soaring through the sky, I weave us in the opposite direction until I reach the assault rifle abandoned on the staircase. I rain the den with slugs, and smudge the floors red. It's a psychopath's dream.

Isabela's warmth infuses my skin. It makes the world that much clearer than if I was just battling on my own. We reach the bottom stair— the only people left with beating hearts.

"Are you okay?" I ask, tapping on the side of her thigh.

She exhales. "Never better."

Glass crunches against my feet as I lead us toward the exit. Damien can fuck-off. I don't get paid to help him solve his problems. I'm getting Isabela somewhere safe.

"Watch out!" Isabela shouts, charging head first into my stomach, and knocking us down as a bullet whirls past us.

Anxiously, she grabs a pistol and aims it at the culprit — a man in a perfectly tailored suit and fedora. I wrap my hand over hers, on the grip, and add pressure to her finger on the trigger.

Boom!

His brain spat the walls behind him, and his body slumps down to the ground. Her chest rises up and down in rapid succession as the gun slips from her fingertips and thuds to the ground.

Applause erupts from behind us. "My tesoro. You have never been more attractive to me."

Like a monster, Damien emerges from the darkness, his face stained with blood. His lips curve into a sinister smile as he leans down and drags his bloody fingers along Isabela's cheek.

"Thank you for killing Paola's murderer." His eyelids rich with lust. "You might not be that useless after all."

All the air in Isabela's lungs gusts out when Damien squeezes her into a bear hug. He threads his fingers through her hair. And it would be a lie if I said I didn't feel some type of way. But I abide. She's his fiancé, after all.

He would be concerned.

"I would take you right here, tesoro, but it's not our time." He breathes into her ear. "Goddamn, I can't wait until our wedding night."

"Yeah," Isabela replies, her voice devoid of emotion. "Me too."

Well.... Julian seems to already get himself into a little predicament... 🙈🙈I guess Isabela has a special charm 😝😝😉! What do you think it would take for Isabela to forgive Julian?

Who do you think would make the first move? Who do you want to make the first move? 👀👀

Ugh, reading Damien forcing a hug on Isabela is torturous... 🥴I wanna stab my fork in his eyeballs.

Hope you guys enjoy this chapter and I can't wait to upload the next chapter for you guys👀❤️💜

I hope it keeps getting better and better for you! Love you and I can't wait to talk in the comments with you guys ❤️💜❤️💜❤️