Isabella's Alive

Marco didn’t flinch as I screamed, but I saw the muscle in his jaw tick. He stared at the severed hand lying on the marble floor, blood pooling beneath it like a sick offering.

The guard at the door was pale, his voice hollow as he muttered, "Boss, it's her... it's Isabella, the CCTV caught her. She managed to escape from the dungeon."

Marco stepped forward, blocking the gruesome sight from me with his body. I clutched the silk sheets, my stomach churning, bile rising in my throat. I wanted to ask what the hell was going on, but the words wouldn’t come. All I could do was stare at Marco, silently begging for answers.

He turned toward me slowly, his expression unreadable but his eyes... they were lethal. He crossed the room in three long strides and knelt in front of me.

"Emily," he said gently, his voice tightly controlled, "you need to breathe. Look at me."

I was shaking, but I met his gaze.

"It’s going to be okay," he said. "I won’t let anything happen to you. Do you trust me?"

I didn’t even know anymore, but I nodded. He brushed his fingers across my cheek, and then stood. He turned to the guards, barking a sharp order. "Get this cleaned up. Now. And lock down the house. No one comes in or out."

The guard who had spoken before shifted uncomfortably, like he wanted to say more. Marco noticed. "Spit it out."

"Isabella had help from inside and we found the mole, Boss. It was one of the guards stationed near the west wing. He tried to run when he saw the cameras being reviewed again."

Marco's expression darkened. "Bring him here."

Minutes later, two guards dragged in a man I vaguely recognized, it was one of the two guards who had escorted me from the blood-stained hallway earlier. His lip was split, blood already drying on his face. But he didn't look afraid. 

Marco looked him over with cold detachment. "Tell me who you’re working for."

The man spat blood onto the marble. "You already know."

Marco cocked his head. "Isabella." The man grinned, a bloody sneer. "She’s smarter than you. And she’ll finish what she started."

I felt a chill crawl down my spine. 

Marco glanced at me. I saw the war raging behind his eyes—a storm of fury barely caged by restraint. He moved slowly, deliberately, walking to the sideboard near his desk. From a drawer, he pulled out a matte black pistol.

The traitor didn't flinch. He just laughed. "What, gonna shoot me in front of your little pet?"

Marco didn’t respond.

Instead, he came to me.

"Emily," he said softly. "Close your eyes."

I blinked up at him. "Marco..."

I hesitated, then slowly, I closed my eyes.

Then I heard the crack of a gunshot split the air. I jumped despite myself, my heart hammering wildly.

I opened my eyes and instinctively looked to the side—but the body was already gone, the floor clean as if nothing had happened. 

His guards were already clearing the room, retreating silently with military precision.

Marco sat beside me on the bed, dragging a hand through his dark hair.

"She planted him months ago," he said finally. "Right under my nose. He fed her information, helped her map the mansion’s blind spots."

I felt cold all over. "Why? Why is she doing this?"

He didn’t answer, Instead, he stood and walked to the window, parting the heavy drapes. Rain had started to fall outside, pattering softly against the glass.

"Isabella was once loyal," he said at last. "But something changed, revenge, you see she was in love with me. I should have seen it coming."

"Do you think... she wants me dead?"

He turned slowly. "I know she does. And not just you. Anyone female close to me is a target."

I looked down at my hands. "Then why are you keeping me close? Why not send me away?"

He took a step toward me, "Because sending you away won't keep you safe. I have more enemies than allies, Emily. The only place you’re safe is beside me."

I wanted to believe that, but the pit in my stomach told me otherwise.

He crouched down in front of me again, his tone softer now. "You need to sleep. You need rest."

"I can’t. Every time I close my eyes... I see her."

He didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he reached into his coat and pulled out something, a chain with a small silver pendant.

"Here," he said, placing it in my hand. "It was my mother’s. Wear it. It’s old... but it's something to hold onto."

I looked at him in surprise, this felt... too intimate.

"Thank you," I said quietly.

He nodded once, then turned away. "Get some sleep. I’ll be in the chair."

I curled up again, my fingers clenched tightly around the pendant. And slowly, though I didn’t expect to, I drifted off.

I woke to the feeling of something cold pressing against my neck.

My eyes flew open, it was a blade, I panicked. 

Held by a woman with blood dripping from her fingers, her hair tangled, and her eyes wild.

Isabella, alive and Smiling.

"Did you miss me, sweetheart?" she whispered.

Marco was nowhere in sight, I opened my mouth to scream—

Everything went black.