Victoria

A soft breath escapes, between my parted lips, as Isaiah remains standing - as do I.
The vast room falls silent.

I don't know what exactly I have in mind, of what to say to him, of how exactly I'm going to convince him. I just know his wicked intention is to kill Rio. I can't have that happen. My heart skips a beat against my ribcage, at just the thought of the possibility.

I watch Isaiah peer over to his side; his subtle gaze lingering over his right shoulder. I only gain sight of the side of his sharp jawline, his cheek and his lashes.

"Why are you so infallible when it comes to the possibility of him dying?" He turns around, a cryptic smirk playing about on his lips when his inscrutable brown irises lock on me.

My gaze glares in his direction. "I can think of more reasons than you ever could." I start, beginning in my steps near him.
But I don't continue to approach him, no, for his proximity is infinitely toxic enough.

I leave ten feet in separation between us; his tall and distinct figure facing me boldly beneath his black v-neck that clings tight onto his skin - and the silver pistol that's inevitable in display, in his grasp.

I suppress swallowing the lump in my throat, at the thought of that pistol's purpose - Isaiah's purpose of it in his hands.

I won't let him touch Rio.

I part my lips, in preparation of my intention. "Look, can we just...clear the elephant in the room?" I breathe.

Isaiah's deep brown irises squint over in curiosity, at me, yet I pick up the glimmer of mischief flickering within them.

"You remember me." I add, softly, watching him in wait.

Isaiah runs his tongue across his lip, seemingly in thought. That is, before he runs a hand through his ruffled black hair, and his lips plaster a grin.

"Yeah we're not discussing this." He remarks. Just then Isaiah turns around with his gun still in hand, continuing in his determined tracks toward the double doors.

"Wait- you can't kill him!" I exclaim, watching him continue to distance himself.
"And why is that?" He questions lazily, never turning around.
"I already told you!" I raise my tone, just when he twists the doorknob.

"Because he'll kill you!" I yell, when he stops firmly again. But this time, finally, he turns his to meet my warning gaze.

I feel my shoulders tense. Isaiah watches me; the familiar unreadable emotion hiding behind his mysterious irises - as his jaw is set.

I didn't realize the exceeding rate my heart picked up, the blood pumping vigorously in my veins now at the closeness of him leaving to track down Rio. Though I knew, deep down inside, Isaiah wouldn't succeed.

So why am I stopping him?

Suddenly, the grand double doors fly open, before Isaiah. Our gazes immediately jolt ahead.

Standing in front of him is one of his men, I take it, with a stern and solemn expression - his warning gaze steadying on Isaiah.

"Someone broke into the lounge, stole the briefcase of cash." The man informs him, as I listen in. "The guards are chasing after 'em now. They're headed towards the main court-"

Isaiah hurriedly pushes past the guy that holds the information, before he glances back at me. "Come with me." He orders, his tone partially pinched with infallible authority, but a hint of gentleness lingers.

I swallow lightly, on the hard floor. And I pace toward the two men, when Isaiah leads the way.

Seconds down the long hall, I watch Isaiah pull open a glass door that brings in a blinding light - the outside. I instinctively squint my light brown eyes behind my shielding hand, as I follow him.

Running up behind his broad figure, and after they adjust, my eyes quickly scan across the yard when we step out. It's spacious and open, the greenery is keen and mowed, including bushes that align a fence afar - in the center of the yard - in which Isaiah runs toward.

The main court, I presume.

Under the baby blue sky, gunshots are suddenly fired around the private perimeter. I jump vaguely, at the familiarly alarming sound.

Alert, I rush behind Isaiah's figure. I'm unarmed, and I don't like it.

"Isaiah I need to get back inside I-" A bullet must've flown by me, by the quickness of Isaiah's next action. When the latest shot was fired he hurriedly pulled me down with him - our bodies harshly dropping onto the grass in result.

Flat on my stomach I cover my head, as a couple more shots are fired our way. I might've screamed, throughout, before one more sudden gunshot is fired.

The yard becomes silent, aside from my exceeding breaths. I hesitantly peer up, carefully dropping my hands from my head. I slowly glance beside me, behind the disheveled brown strands across my face, at a slightly tense Isaiah who's mysterious irises are already searching either of my own.

And I can't tell if he's checking to see if I'm OK, or if he's waiting for a clear coast, for himself.

But after someone shouts that the thief was struck down, and Isaiah jumps up to his feet and takes off, that wonder is quickly summed up.

I scoff, pushing myself up from off the ground, and I come to a stand on my own two feet. Isaiah's way ahead of me, as he enters the main court feet away - disappearing behind the trimmed bushes. I brush myself off, ridding the dried dirt on my jeans, before walking after him.

But as I near the entrance to the main court, an unsettling feeling consumes my gut.

This person they killed, this person they shot... it couldn't of been Rio...

Right?

He wouldn't of stolen money - he would've took down Isaiah. He would've... saved me.

I take precaution, as I slow down in my steps, coming up to the bushes that Isaiah's inscrutable figure has vanished behind. My heart pounds mercilessly.

And as I turn the corner, a gizmo is centered in a valley bestowed in a combination of deep red flowers, as well as dark purple plants and shades of navy blue flowers surrounding it. My first thought of the sight is how a gang like this can own a serenity so... peaceful.

But the few men that linger around, feet from my side, are looking down upon a body, I acknowledge. The vast serenity looses it's peace, quick. I don't hesitate to head over toward the vague crowd.

I step over an open briefcase - stacks of the green paper tamed by bands spilling out of it as I do.

Focusing ahead, I push through the taller figures that hover, forcing my way toward the body. My heart still hammers.

And when my light brown eyes finally steady on the breathless figure, above the green grass in the main court, I feel my heart skip a beat.

It isn't my fiancé.

On the ground lies a man in a long black coat - his blonde bangs flopped over his forehead as his eyelids are shut.

I feel a warm breath of relief escape my lips.

I gathered it wasn't Rio. But part of me, the bigger part of me that hoped he would show up sooner or later, ponders on how he's ever going to get past the countless guards of Isaiah's place - and through him: the guy I, for some reason, tried to stop from getting killed earlier.

Sure, Rio can gather our gang, set out a search party or whatever.

But how exactly are they going to find me, here?

My eyes flick up, instantly latching onto Isaiah's, who stands across me - the breathless body below parting us.

For a moment, I catch the sudden quirk of his lips, as he watches me. It's a cold grin that I wish I could smack off of him.

I instead avert my gaze below again, my rapid heart consoling as I peer down to the body once more. And I fiddle with the engagement ring on my finger, twirling the diamond band around my fingertip.

My heart begins to ache.

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