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CHAPTER 34
Isabella
I let out a loud, defiant laugh, even as the ropes bite into my wrists. "Do you hear that? I told you," I say, my voice echoing through the still room. "My husband will tear this house down to get to me."
Aurora, my father, and the men gathered in the room stare at me in stunned silence. But beneath their stoic façades, I see it. The unmistakable glimmer of fear flickering in their eyes. Aurora takes a hesitant step back, and I can't help but chuckle, the sound harsh and mocking.
"What's wrong? Afraid? You should be. Because when he gets here, and he will get here, your last breaths will be in agony for ever thinking you could take us from him."
Suddenly, the sound of gunfire erupts, punctuated by shouts that are muffled yet frantic, resonant through the walls of this cursed place. The house shakes with the violence of it all as if the very foundation is rebelling against the horrors it’s been forced to witness.
The men jump to their feet, their previous arrogance replaced with the chaotic scramble of the terrified. It's chaos, and for the first time since I was taken, I smile. Not because I enjoy the terror but because I know that Damien is coming. He is the storm itself, and he will stop at nothing to find me. Aurora's command slices through the tension in the room like a blade.
"Guard the door!" she barks, and the men hastily comply, their weapons now pointed at the door.
Their eyes are wide, and their movements are jittery. I'm watching, calculating, as the gunfire and shouts from beyond these walls continue, unwavering for a few more agonizing minutes. And then, as if the world has suddenly lost its voice, quiet descends with suffocating absoluteness.
It's in the silence that it happens, a loud pop, jarringly out of place. The two men at the door don't even have a chance to turn before they collapse, their bodies hitting the floor with thuds that resonate through my bones.
"It came from the window!" my father's voice screeches with panic, undercutting the authority it once held. "Everybody get down."
My heart is racing, but not from fear. It's anticipation, a twisted sense of victory even while I’m tied to a chair. Damien is here, and hell follows with him. The door bursts open and in walks Damien, Victor, another guy I've never seen before, and a group of men.
"Isabella," Damien breathes with a sigh of relief. Then he gazes around the room, his eyes widening in shock. "Aurora? Are you alright?" He asks. "Did they hurt you?" Aurora stands there like a deer caught in headlights. "Why aren't you tied up?" Damien asks.
"Because she's in on this whole ordeal," Seraphina says.
"Seraphina, are you alright?" Victor asks her. The gaze he’s sending her causes me to scrunch my eyebrows.
"I'm peachy," she says with a bloody smile.
"Who hurt her," Victor says when he sees the blood on her mouth. "Who hit her."
Seraphina tilts her head. "That asshole over there."
Victor raises his gun and fires two shots faster than you can blink. The guy that hit Seraphina hits the floor with a thud.
“And people call me a hot head,” the mysterious man said.
“Shut up, Julian,” Victor snaps.
“I’m just saying,” Julian replies. “I never knew you guys were as bloodthirsty as me. We’ll have to do this again sometime.”
The tension in the room clings to my skin, thicker and more visceral than the dust I in the air. Aurora stands petrified, her façade of control shattered, revealing the naked trepidation beneath and the fear of consequences she never anticipated. My father's posture, once composed and imposing, is now hunched, quivering like a leaf in the grip of an impending storm. Their fear rolls off in thick waves, clashing with the seething, almost tangible rage emanating from Damien, Victor, and Julian.
Damien's eyes burn with a ferocity that matches the inferno I envision surrounding us. The righteous anger of a man whose world has been threatened. Fury glows in Victor's gaze like a protective inferno searing for justice. Julian is covered in an aura of untamed violence, exuding a hunger for carnage as if reveling in it were his natural state. The air crackles, charged with the impending wrath of retribution and the sweet scent of vindication.
Damien's voice cuts through the tense air, every word laced with incredulity. "Aurora, what the hell is happening? How are you involved in this?"
"Fuck!" my father bellows, and the veins in his neck bulge visibly as he paces like a caged animal. "Do you have any idea what you've cost me, Isabella?" He turns to face the room, eyes wild with disarray. "I orchestrated a masterpiece, a scheme that would've secured my money!" His hands are clenched into fists, trembling at his sides.
"But no," he spits, whirling to point an accusing finger at Damien. "You, with your righteous crusade, had to come storming in here, killing everyone to rescue her worthless ass!"
I can't help but interject, my voice icy as it cuts through his tirade. "Yourmasterpieceinvolved selling out your own daughter. How did you expect it to end?"
He ignores me, continuing to rave, turning towards Aurora. "And you! You were supposed to make sure the Nightingales took Isabella. My plan was perfect!"
