𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀 ||

"Isabella, I know you're busy..." I hear my brother remark over the music blaring in my room. I continue to stare at the canvases that I have been staring at for the past four hours, and despite my best efforts, there's little to nothing on it. I'm losing motivation. The red streaks that I had put on there looking more and more like blood by the second. God even my artwork looks like a murder scene. 

I let out a low groan, finally glancing away from it. "What do you need? You're interrupting me." I say, folding my arms, the wet paint on my figures accidentally smearing on my white shirt. Serves me right, wearing a goddamn white shirt while painting without a fucking apron on. Makes me look like a newbie. 

"Well, I just wanted to inform you that Jax will be coming in for a meeting in a few hours." He says, his eyes moving from mine to the painting behind me. I let out another groan, unable to hide the frustration that is etched onto my face. 

"Great, I get to see the fucking Crimson Prince again!? Why is she your go-to person when we're in trouble? Are you two fucking or something? You two don't even have a fucking alliance." I complain, digging my nails into the skin of my bicep. 

"Isabella, I am not the leader of this Mafia, you are. It is up to you if you want to make an alliance with Jax O'Conner. She is more than willing to oblige you." Jorden states firmly, "And she's gay, she doesn't like a dick." 

"Aww boo hoo," I unfold my arms, moving my fists under my eyes, mimicking a crying face, a frown forming on my lips. "I bet you really wanted to rail the shit out of her, didn't you? You horny bastard."  

"Shut the hell up." Jorden snaps, I roll my eyes, glancing back at my painting, starting to hum along to the music again. 

"Well, you act like the goddamn leader, maybe I should just make you the leader, I don't really want it anyways, I'd rather paint and kill people, not boss people around and have them do the killing for me," I say sternly. 

Jorden lets out an irritated sigh, I can practically see him dragging his fingers through his hair, a habit he's had since we were kids. "Isabella, you know this isn't just about you. This Empire, this fucking Mafia needs you at its helm. You have the vision and the strength. And Jax - She's a valuable ally, whether you like it or not." 

I turn around, glaring at him, the weight of the responsibility pressing down on me. "Fine. I'll meet with you. But don't expect me to play nice." 

"I never do," Jorden mutters under his breath as he leaves the room, his shoulders tense with the train of our small argument. I clench my fists, my nails digging into my palms, creating little crescent moons that string with each heartbeat. 

As the door closes behind him with a soft click, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the half-finished canvas that seems to mock me. The red streaks, so reminiscent of blood, blend into the chaotic background, a reflection of my own mind. The tension in the room lingers, reminding me of the responsibilities I can't escape. The only escape is death. 

I take a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering annoyance. The thought of dealing with Jax O'Conner, the infamous Crinsom Prince, only adds to my irritation. Her reputation precedes her - ruthless, cunning, and dangerous. Every encounter with her feels like stepping into a den of vipers, each word a potential trap. But, I guess, duty calls, and I know I can't afford to let my personal feelings get in the way. Not now. Not ever. 

Stepping out of the shower, I look at my reflection in the mirror, the spitting image of my mother. Her features stare back at me - high cheekbones, full lips, piercing brown eyes. She used to be the definition of beauty and grace, a captivating presence in any room, lighting up everyone's life with just a smile. But after the accident, after she lost her mind, she became the definition of crazy. Her once elegant demeanor shattered, leaving behind a shell of the woman she once was. 

She used to tell me, A pretty face doesn't mean a pretty heart. I guess that rang true for her. Her beauty hid the confusion and unrest inside, and now, every time I look in the mirror, I see both the allure and the madness. My reflection is a constant reminder of the hereditary legacy I carry - not just the physical beauty, but the gray area between grace and chaos. 

Every day I can't help but wonder, if I too, am destined to walk that small fragile line of ice that could crack and break at a moment's notice. If I will one day paint this world in the colors of my madness. 

I let out a heavy sigh and decide to get dressed before the meeting start. Wouldn't it be funny if I just walked in the naked? I roll my eyes at my inner dialogue. Nah cause Jorden would kill us with his bare hands. 

Standing before the mirror, taking in my reflection. The rush-red suit fits me perfectly, tailored to hug my curves just right while exuding an air of authority. The high-waisted paints elongate my legs, and the blazer sits comfortably on my shoulders, making me look both powerful and reined. My white blouse underneath is slightly unbuttoned, giving a glimpse of my cleavage. 

My blonde hair falls loosely around my shoulders, a sharp contrast against the rich earthy tones of my suit. The natural light catches the golden strands, making them shimmer slightly, almost like a halo around my head. My black nail polish adds a touch of edge to the otherwise sophisticated appearance. 

The subtle buzz of my phone snaps me back into reality, I roll my eyes, seeing Jax's contact pop up. I swear I blocked her!

Crimson: Hey little Dove

God, I hate that nickname, what is with it anyway? Doves are the simple of innocents, like the fucking Holy Ghost in the Christian religion and Crimson knows I'm anything but fucking innocent. 

Isabella: What do you need Crimson? Are you going to be late for the meeting? If so you better come begging on your knees for me to even allow you into my house. 

Crimson: As fun, and freaky as the sounds, darling, I'm almost there. Just wanted to make sure you weren't getting cold feet.

A slow, exasperated sigh escapes my lips as I roll my eyes. I glare at my reflection in the mirror, my fingers hovering over the keyboard, unsure of what to say. 

Isabella: Cold feet? You think I'm afraid of you? Think again, Crimson. I'm just preparing to deal with your ugly face. 

I hit send, smirking at my own boldness. I pace around the room, the weight of the upcoming confrontation heavy in the air. Oh my god, ugly face? What am I? 10 years old? 

My phone buzzes again. 

Crimson: Oh, I never thought you were afraid, little Dove. Just making sure you're ready to face me. It's been a while since we danced this dance. 

I scoff, feeling the all-too-familiar heat of anger bubbling up. Jax always knows how to push my buttons and get under my skin. I take in a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heartbeat. She will be the death of me.

Isabella: I've been ready for this since the day you waltzed into my life. Don't keep me waiting, Jax. 

* * * * 

Standing from afar, watching as Crimson or Jax O'Conner steps into the room, a powerful aura surrounds her. By the way, she glances around, I can tell she's mentally mapping out all the exits, assessing how many of my men are on guard, and calculating her chances she needs to make a quick escape. Her olive green eyes lock onto mine, and a small teasing smirk forms on her lips before she looks away, exuding confidence and control. She gives Jorden and me a once-over, trying to figure out how many weapons we have on us.

Her curly dark brown hair rests just below her shoulders, giving her a touch of feminity, yet I can tell she's anything but delicate, especially from our previous encounters. Dressed in an all-black suit that looks tailored to hug her covers perfectly, highlighting her muscular frame, her biceps subtly flexing as she folds her arms. Gold rings are eccentrically placed on her fingers, and a snake necklace is placed around her neck. As always, she commands attention and respect, and we can't help but give it to her. 

I let my gaze travel over her face, taking in the scar that runs over her eye and lip. I wonder how she got that scar? She didn't have it the last time I saw her. But that was over a year ago. 

 Tattoos peek out from under the collar of her suit, hinting at the stories and secrets inked onto her tan skin, making me wonder what other tattoos she might have. Her sharp jawline contracts with her plump lips, creating a striking balance of strength and allure, both Feminine and Masculine. Jax is the definition of beauty, a living piece of art. 

Everyone turns to look at Crimson as she speaks, "Little Dove, you seem to get yourself into a whole lot of trouble," Breaking the silence in the room. I tighten my jaw, a shiver running down my spine from the nickname. 

"Crimson, it seems like you're the one causing it all the time," I say firmly while crossing my arms. Her gaze moves down my body as she gives me a slow once-over. My body ignites at the mere sigh of her, and I find it all incredibly thrilling. 

"Oh, please, dive in. You already know that I'll always be there to protect you and be your knight in shining armor," She says, with a wink. 

"Or you'll be the dragon that burns everything down," I shoot back, my tone simultaneously amused and challenging. 

Another chill runs down my spine when Jax laughs, a deep, rich sound. "Depends on the day, doesn't it?" With an overwhelming presence, she steps closer, "You always did like to play with fire." This shit is too gay for me. 

Even though my heart is racing like a fucking racehorse, I lash out. "And you always did like fanning the flames," Refusing to be intimidated.

She tilts her head, her eyes gleaming with unmistakable mischief. "What can I say? I enjoy watching as my little dove dances in the flames."

"Careful, Crimson. One day, you might end up getting burned." I warn though the thrill of our banter makes it hard to keep my voice steady. Gay. 

"Maybe," She admits, her gaze never leaving mine. "But oh, doesn't that sound thrilling? I'm shaking in my fucking boots." 

"We called you here because we've been having trouble with a Mafia that went underground almost 20 years ago," Jorden steps forward, clearly feeling the tension in the room. Crimson glances over at him nodding. 

"I'm aware," She says coldly. "You really think I'd come all this way without having any information?" She tosses a file onto the table. "The same fucking Mafia attacked me too. Otherwise, I wouldn't have given two flying shits if you're empire went down." 

I roll my eyes, clenching my jaw as I grab the file, looking at the pictures that look the same as the ones we got. Each word is different like ours, but together they make a sentence.

"Welcome, The, End,  Your, Reign, Princess, and," I read her words out loud before grabbing my file. "Welcome to the end of your reign, my lovely Prince and Princess." I read the full sentence out loud before glancing up at Crimson. 

The room falls silent, everyone absorbing the situation. The threat is clear and personal. This underground Mafia isn't just targeting my empire; they're coming for both of us. 

Crimson smirks, a dangerous glint in her olive-green eyes. "It would seem we have a common enemy, Isabella." 

I narrow my eyes, "We didn't invite you here to state the obvious," I remark. 

Jax's lips curl into a dangerous grin. "Right let's get one thing straight, Isabella Rossi," Crimson remarks, her voice dripping with unmistakable menace. "You didn't invite me here. Your brother did, out of a misplaced sense of good faith. I've bailed you out more times than I care to count. Your brother and I have formed a bond in those moments, so he asked me to play nice." She takes a tantalizing step closer, her eyes locking onto mine with an unsettling intensity. "But make no mistake, little dove, I will kill you if it comes to that. No price compares to the thrill of taking a life, especially one as valuable as yours, little dove."

My heart pounds in my chest, a mix of fear and defiance surging through me. I ball my fists at my sides, my jaw tightening, and I swallow thickly. "Is that a threat?" I ask, my voice steady despite the anger and fear that is eating from the inside, gnawing at the pit of my stomach. 

"It's a promise, darling," Jax Replies, her smile widening. "Remember, I've already saved your empire more than once. That question is, how many more times will you need me before you realize you can't do this alone?"