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Isabella’s POV
The thumping bass echoed through the walls of the club, drowning out the voices of the crowd and blurring the edges of my reality. I pressed my back against the bar, my drink clenched tightly in my hand, and watched the sea of bodies move in a chaotic rhythm. This was not how I had imagined my night going, but after what I had walked in on earlier this afternoon—my boyfriend tangled in sheets with his step sister—I was desperate to escape. With each sip of my cocktail, the alcohol washed away the sting of betrayal, transforming my anger into a reckless desire to lose myself in the night. My long brunette hair cascaded over my shoulders, and I could feel the eyes of the men around me lingering on my curvaceous figure. But tonight, I was not interested in their attention. I just wanted to forget. As I took another sip, I noticed him. A tall figure leaned casually against the opposite wall, his dark hair slightly tousled, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. His piercing gaze locked onto mine, sending a thrill of excitement down my spine. There was an undeniable magnetism about him that made it impossible to look away. He was breathtakingly handsome, dressed in a tailored suit that hugged his broad shoulders perfectly. He doesn't look like he belonged here. Well, neither do I. I felt heat creep up my cheeks as he approached. “Can I buy you a drink?” His voice was low and smooth, sending shivers through me. “Sure,” I replied, trying to sound nonchalant as my heart raced. With each passing moment, the world around us faded away. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear, and I could smell the intoxicating scent of his cologne. I had never met anyone like him before, and the connection was instant. We moved to the dance floor, where the music enveloped us like a warm blanket. My anger faded with every beat, and I let myself get lost in the rhythm. He pulled me closer, our bodies swaying in sync. His hands rested on my hips, igniting a fire deep within me. I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt this alive, this desired. “You’re stunning,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my neck. I shivered at his touch, the heat rising in my cheeks. “Thank you,” I said, my voice barely a whisper as I leaned into him, craving more of his intoxicating presence. The night blurred into a haze of laughter, drinks, and electric touches. Before I knew it, the bar had turned into a whirlwind of pulsating bodies and flashing lights, and I was dancing only for him. Each moment spent together deepened my need for him, as if he were the antidote to my heartbreak. When the clock struck two, I was too far gone to care. “Let’s get out of here,” he suggested, his dark eyes glinting with mischief. A thrill ran through me, and without thinking, I nodded. I had always been cautious, but tonight, I craved adventure, craved something different. As we stumbled out of the club, the cool air hit my skin, refreshing yet exhilarating. The gorgeous stranger called a driver and we climbed in, the world outside a blur of lights and shadows. “Where to?” the driver asked, but I didn’t care. I was lost in his gaze, feeling a wild connection that felt too intoxicating to resist. “Anywhere,” I breathed. The cab stopped outside a luxurious hotel, and my heart raced with anticipation as we entered the dimly lit lobby. The stranger pulled me into the elevator, and as the doors closed, I felt a jolt of excitement. This was reckless. This was everything I tried so hard to avoid. But right now, this was what I craved. When we reached his floor, he led me to his room, and the moment the door clicked shut behind us, I was engulfed in a wave of desire. He turned to face me, his expression shifting from playful to serious, the tension between us palpable. “Are you sure you want this?” he asked, his voice low and husky. “Yes,” I replied, my voice trembling with anticipation. I could feel the heat radiating from him, and it drew me closer, urging me to bridge the gap between us. With a swift movement, he closed the distance, capturing my lips with his. The kiss ignited a spark, and I melted into him, feeling the world fade away. His hands tangled in my hair, pulling me closer as his tongue slid against mine, igniting every nerve ending in my body. Every kiss was electric, a mix of desperation and desire, his hands exploring my body with a hunger that made my heart race. I had never experienced anything like this—never let go of myself so completely. I could feel the walls I had built around my heart crumbling with each touch. He backed me against the wall, his body pressing against mine as he trailed kisses along my neck. I gasped as pleasure surged through me, and I knew in that moment that I was willing to let go of everything. “Tell me you want this,” he murmured against my skin, his voice thick with desire. “I want this,” I breathed, the words spilling from my lips without hesitation. With a growl of approval, he lifted me off my feet and carried me to the bed, his lips never leaving mine. The room spun with the heat of our bodies as he laid me down, his eyes dark with need. As he explored my body, a whirlwind of sensations consumed me. His mouth traveled down my neck, across my collarbone, and down to my breasts, his hands caressing every curve of my body. I arched into him, feeling alive in a way I never had before. “Take me, now,” I gasped as he moved lower, trailing kisses along my stomach, teasing me with every touch. My body responded eagerly, yearning for more as he slowly pulled me to the edge of ecstasy. “Trust me,” he whispered, his eyes locked onto mine, filled with a mix of desire and something deeper. I surrendered completely, my body responding to his every movement. This was raw, passionate, and utterly intoxicating. The world outside faded into nothingness as we became lost in each other, surrendering to the fire that consumed us. As he finally entered me, I felt a rush of emotions wash over me—pleasure, vulnerability, and a sense of connection I had never known. This was my first time, and it was everything I had dreamed of and more. With each thrust, we moved in perfect harmony, our bodies entwined as we reached new heights of pleasure. It felt like an explosion of stars as I clung to him, losing myself in the moment, letting go of all my pain and betrayal. “Isabella,” he groaned, his breath hot against my ear as he pushed deeper, and I felt a wave of warmth wash over me, pulling me closer to the edge. We collapsed together, breathless and intertwined, our hearts racing in unison. But as the euphoria began to fade, reality crept back in, and I could almost hear the echoes of my life calling me back. The next morning, I stirred awake, sunlight streaming through the hotel window, the room bathed in a soft golden glow. I blinked, my mind still hazy from the alcohol of the night before, and turned to my side, expecting to find the stranger beside me. But the sheets were cold, and the bed was empty. Panic flooded through me as I sat up, scanning the unfamiliar room for any sign of him. My heart raced as I recalled the previous night in fragments—dancing, laughter, kisses that ignited a fire within me. But who was he? The details were blurred, clouded by the haze of intoxication. I felt a rush of confusion and guilt wash over me. What had I done? My heart sank as the weight of my actions pressed down on me. I had thrown caution to the wind, seeking comfort in the arms of a stranger, and now I was left alone with my thoughts. I hurriedly dressed, trying to piece together the remnants of the night. My thoughts raced as I made my way to the door. There was no sign of him anywhere, and the reality of my situation began to settle in. I had given myself to someone I barely knew, and I had no idea what I'm supposed to do. The thrill of the night was replaced by a growing sense of dread. I was left wondering if I would ever see him again—and if I could even face the consequences of my reckless craving. As I made my way to the elevator, I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in my gut. What had I done? The doors closed behind me, sealing away the night that had forever changed me. All I had now were memories, and the lingering question of who the fuck just broke my virginity.Isabella’s POVThe TV was still frozen on that last frozen frame…the chaotic swarm of reporters and protesters outside the precinct…when the feed suddenly jolted back to life.A black cargo van had screeched to a stop right in front of the station steps. The side door flew open. Two figures…hooded, moving fast…shoved a bound woman out onto the concrete. She hit the ground hard on her knees, hands zip-tied behind her back, ankles bound together, duct tape wrapped tight across her mouth. A large white poster board was duct-taped to her chest in big black marker letters:I AM THE MASTERMINDThe van peeled away before anyone could react.The crowd exploded.Reporters surged forward like a tidal wave, cameras flashing, microphones thrusting toward her face. Phones were held high, live-streaming everything. Protesters pushed against the barriers, screaming questions. “Who are you?!” “Why did you target Damien Voss?!” “Talk!”The woman struggled against the restraints, muffled sounds coming
Isabella’s POVThe living room of the Voss estate felt like a war room nobody had bothered to clean up…empty coffee mugs everywhere, blankets thrown over chairs, phones charging on every surface. Last night was hell. Nobody got more than twenty minutes of real sleep. Every buzz from the gate intercom, every notification chime, every random car horn outside had us bolting upright like we were under attack. By morning Gerald and Jaxon were already gone, stationed at the police precinct like sentinels. Gerald flat-out refused to leave…he kept his stance about how the first investigation had been “a setup from the beginning” and how he wasn’t letting this new team pull the same tricks.Now we were all glued to the massive flat-screen in the living room. Ellie, Agnes, Jace…who’d shown up maybe two hours ago looking like he hadn’t slept in days either, and me. The news feed was live from outside the precinct downtown. Reporters swarmed the steps like vultures, microphones thrust at anyon
Horace Villa****But it was.Out on the patio, lit by the harsh glow of the security lights, lay a crumpled bundle that shouldn't exist. A bloodied piece of cloth…stained with rusty, dried blood…and right beside it, glinting under the moon, a knife. The knife. The one Olivia had gripped so tightly that night, the one she'd plunged into Cleo's body over and over after choking the life out of her.Olivia's breath caught in her throat. She bolted for the door, yanking it open with a force that made the hinges creak. The cold evening air hit her like a slap, but she didn't stop until she was right outside, skidding to a halt just beyond the threshold. Her mouth fell open, wide and frozen in shock, as she stared down at the horror in front of her. Speechless. Utterly speechless. The world narrowed to that bundle…what looked like the top Cleo had been wearing that day, the simple black blouse now torn and crusted with blood that had once been fresh and warm.The others piled out after her
Horace Villa****The woman on the phone started laughing again, louder this time, wild and sharp, like glass breaking in slow motion. “Bet you’re really curious huh? Whose blood could it be?” She repeated, in a singsong tone.Olivia’s voice cracked as she spiraled. “Who the hell are you?!” she screamed into the room, even though the phone was in Osmond’s hand. “What gave you the confidence to act this crazy? Answer me!”The laughter cut off suddenly.“It’s me, silly,” the voice said, sweet as poison. “It’s your home girl, Cleo. The one and only.”Olivia’s head snapped up in shock. Her eyes went huge, like someone had punched her in the soul.“Cle…Cleo?” she stuttered. Then her legs gave out immediately.She dropped straight to the floor in a heap, knees slamming hard against the wood. Her chest started heaving, tight and painful, like her ribs were caving in. She clutched at her shirt, gasping, face turning red then white then red again.Her father rushed over, dropping down beside h
Horace Villa****Olivia’s face went from pale to flushed red in seconds, like someone had flipped a switch inside her. She gripped the phone so tight her knuckles turned white, and without a word she started pacing the living room…fast, angry steps that slapped against the old wooden floor. Back and forth, back and forth, like a tiger stuck in a cage too small for its rage.Osmond watched her for a second, eyebrows drawn together. “Olivia,” he said, voice low but sharp. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”She didn’t even look at him. Just kept pacing, phone glued to her ear, lips pressed into a thin, furious line.He tried again, louder. “Olivia! Fucking say something!”Still nothing. Whatever was being said on the other end had her completely locked in, eyes wide, breathing shallow and quick.Osmond’s patience snapped. He jerked his chin at one of his men…the biggest one, built like a refrigerator with arms. The guy stepped forward without a word. Olivia saw him coming too late…she twist
Horace Villa****Olivia’s pulse spiked so hard she felt it in her throat.Her pulse thundered in her ears.Could it be Damien’s men? Had suspicion finally found its way to her door? Had his people somehow traced the plan back here?What if they’d heard something…just enough to connect the dots…and decided to end the masterminds behind the arrest, starting with her family?Her breath hitched.Or worse…what if it was the police?What if someone had talked? What if one careless whisper had unraveled everything she’d fought so hard to bury? What if Osmond turned against her, and sold her out to the authorities?The thought curdled in her chest, cold and suffocating. For a split second, blind panic flooded her…who could it be? Who could have followed her? Who knew about this place? Had someone tailed her after all? But then reason clawed its way in.Wait.It could be them after all. The crew she’d hired…the professionals who were supposed to stage the diversion, crash the transport, and







