𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀 ||

I think I'm going to throw up. 

I stare at the two bodies, their decaying forms lying just mere feet away from me. The two people I was sent to kill just a few days ago are now a grotesque reminder of how fucking wrong this mission went. What was supposed to be an easy job has turned into a nightmare. Here I am, trapped in a sweltering basement with no air conditioning, the stench of rotting flesh assaulting my senses. 

The sight is horrific. Their skin, a putrid shade of greenish-gray, is bloated and splitting in places, oozing foul-smelling fluids. Maggots writhe in their stomach, swimming in the liquefying remains. I can hear the sickening squelch of their movements, a constant, maddening noise that makes my skin crawl. 

Flies swarm around their bodies, drawing to the stench and the promise of decay. Their incessant buzzing is a macabre symphony, each note a reminder of death and rot. I watch in morbid fascination as the maggots, fat and wriggling, feat on the flesh, burrowing deeper, eager to consume every last bit. 

The smell is unbearable, a nauseating mix of rot and bodily fluids. It clings to the back of my throat, making it hard to breathe. I gag, bile rising in my throat, but I force it down, knowing that vomiting would only make this whole situation worse. 

I glance around the basement for the millionth time, looking for any sign of an escape, but there's nothing. No windows, no doors left unlocked. Just these decaying corpses and the suffocating heat. It feels like I'm trapped in a Saw movie. My mind races, trying to figure out how I ended up in this mess and how I can possibly get out of it. 

The maggots seem to sense my presence, squirming faster as if anticipating their next meal. The thought sends a shiver down my spine. This is how I die, I think to myself. Not in a blaze of gory, but trapped in a basement with the stench of death and the sound of maggots eating away at the remains of my failed mission. Great. Maybe they'll write a fucking documentary about me once they find my remains. 

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves, but the air is thick with the scent of decay, making it impossible to find any relief. I feel a wave of dizziness wash over me, my vision blurring as I struggle to stay conscious. I have to find a way out of here before the maggots decide I'm their next feast. 

As if on cue, there is a sharp ripping sound that ripples through the room. I watch in horror as the maggots finally break free of the bloated stomachs. Their writhing messes spill out, a sickening cascade of white worms glistening in the dim light. I can practically hear those I've killed, their voices echoing from beyond the grave. 

"No, no, no, no, no," I say rapidly, scooting against the floor, backing into a wall and pulling my legs to my chest. My heart pounds in my ears, drawing out the buzzing of the flies.

Oh, yes, yes, yes. Their voices haunt me. This is for killing us, you faggot bitch. 

"Fuck, no, no, no, no, no, no, no," I whisper to myself over and over, wrapping my arms around my body in a desperate attempt to find some sort of comfort. But there's none to be had. The maggots are everywhere, crawling over the bodies, over the floor, and towards me. 

See you in hell, you carpet eater. 

Their taunts echo in my mind, mingling with the grotesque scene before me. I can see their faces in my mind, twisted in death, eyes accusing and mouths forming silent screams. the guilt and terror gnaw at me, just like the maggots will gnaw at my flesh. 

"Please God forgive me," I whisper, squeezing my eyes shut, trying to block out the horror, but the sound of the maggots is relentless. The wet, squelching noise as they move, the occasional crack as they break through the decayed skin. "I'm sorry for all my sinful way. I relinquish all my wicked, sinful way," I cry out, my voice breaking with desperation. 

"Aw, that's too bad. I believe I would have loved your sinful ways," A voice cuts through the room, dripping with mockery and confidence. I glance up, my hair falling in front of my eyes as I continue to rock myself back and forth. through the haze of fear and tears, I can barely make out the silhouette of the speaker. Short, confident, and undeniably female. 

I struggle to focus, my vision still blurred by tears and terror. The figure steps closer, her features becoming clearer. She's petite but carries an aura of authority that makes the air around her feel heavy. Her olive green eyes gleam with a mix of amusement and something darker as she surveys the macabre scene before her. 

"Tell me, little dove, who are you?" She asks, bending down, a few feet away from me, her piercing olive green eyes locking with mine. I glance away, looking at the decaying bodies in front of me. 

I can't tell her. She could be one of my many enemies. Besides, why is she here? It doesn't make sense. I need to come up with a name, or something, but whatever I say won't make any sense. Why would I be here? 

"Um, hello, dove, he wasn't the one talking to you," She remarks, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she laughs slightly, the sound cutting through the oppressive atmosphere like a knife. 

"Uh..." I pause glancing back at her. My voice hurts from going from screaming for someone to help me to not talking at all. "Bella," I say softly, barely managing to get a word out. 

"Isabella," She corrects, her tone sharp and commanding. Her eyes narrow, and I realize she knows exactly who I am. My heart sinks. 

"Who are you?" I question, trying to make my voice sound as confident as possible. A smirk forms on her lips as she stands up, her movements graceful and calculated. 

"Jax O'Conner." She states. The Crimson Prince? Why would she be here? 

Crimson, they call her - The Crimson Prince of the O'Conner Mafia, a name synonymous with power and ruthlessness in the underworld. Everyone seems to believe she's a male, hence the title "Prince" added to her name due to her brutal methods of killing. But I've always had a sneaky suspicion that she was a female. 

"You make it sound like I'm supposed to know you," I remark, swallowing thickly. My mouth feels dry, and my heart sounds against my ribcage. 

"I know that you know who I am." Jax remarks, glancing over at the bodies with a casual disdain. "Your brother sent me to find you. He seems to think that I won't kill you." She glances back at me, a sickening grin plastered on her lips. "But, with someone who's worth as much as you, I wouldn't hesitate to put a fucking bullet in your head."

A cold chill runs down my spine. "What does my brother want?" I ask, trying to keep the fear out of my voice. 

Jax chuckles a dark and unsettling sound. "Oh, he's worried about you, little dove. He thinks you might be in over your head, especially after your father was killed. Taking over an empire like that can be... Draining to some." She mocks, stepping closer, her presence overwhelming. "But he also knows how valuable you are, how many people would pay a torture to get their dirty little hands on you."

I grit my teeth, fighting the surge to back away. Jax straightens up, her lopsided grin suggesting she's enjoying my discomfort. "You're in quite a predicament, Isabella Rossi. I could help you out of here, but first, I need to know if you're worth the trouble."

Her eyes flicker with amusement as she leans in, the scent of her perfume cutting through the stench of decay. "Do you know what they call me, Isabella?" She asks, her voice low and menacing. 

"The Crimson Prince," I respond, my voice barely above a whisper. 

"That's right," She purrs, "And do you know why they call me that?"

I shake my head, not trusting my voice. 

"Because love, I don't just kill," She says, her tone almost playful. "I make it an art. I make sure my victims understand the true meaning of pain before they die. And right now, you're dangerously close to becoming my next masterpiece." 

The room feels like it's closing in on me, the smell of rotting flesh mingling with the fear that's practically radiating off me. I have to stay calm, I have to find a way to survive this. 

"What do you want from me?" I manage to ask, my voice trembling. 

Jax's grin widens, and she straightens up, her eyes never leaving mine. "I want to see if you're worth keeping alive. Prove to me that you're more than just a pretty face with a famous last night. Show me that you have what it takes to survive this god-forsaken world."

Her words hang in the air, a challenge that I know I can't afford to fail. I take a deep breath steeling myself for whatever she has planned for me. "Fine, Crimson," I say, my voice stronger than I expected. "What do you want me to do?"

Jax's eyes gleam with satisfaction. "That's the spirit, I'll ask for a favor later on since you are just 17. Now little dove, let's see if you can fly." 

"You should go," I breathe out, my voice trembling with a mix of desire and desperation. "You should definitely go."

"Go here?" Her mouth is now on my shoulder, her lips trailing hot, feather-light kisses that ignite my skin. 

"Or here?" She moves up my neck, her breath warm and tantalizing. Each touch sends shivers down my spine, and I let out a breathy moan, my head falling back, exposing more of my neck to her. 

"Remember that favor you owe me?" Jax murmurs against my skin, her voice a seductive whisper. Her hands glide over my waist, pulling me closer as she continues to place gentle kisses along my neck and jawline. I nod slowly, lost in the sensation, every nerve ending on fire. 

"Yes," I manage to gasp out, my body responding to her every touch.

Her lips move to my ear, nibbling lightly before whispering. "Good. Because I intend to collect." 

She presses her body against mine, her hands exploring with deliberate slowness. The heat between us intensifies, and I feel a surge of desire that makes my knees weak. 

"Jax," I moan softly, my hands finding their way to her back, pulling her even closer. The friction between us is almost unbearable as she continues to toy with my clit, and I can feel her smirk against my skin. 

"Do you want me to stop?" She asks teasingly, her voice dripping with desire. 

"No," I breathe out, my voice barely above a whisper. "Don't stop."

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𝐂 𝐇 𝐀 𝐑 𝐀 𝐂 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑  𝐀 𝐄 𝐒 𝐓 𝐇 𝐄 𝐓 𝐈 𝐂 𝐒

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𝐍 𝐎 𝐓 𝐄:

There are so very heavy topics in this book, and if you didn't read the trigger warnings, please go back and read them in the author's note. I wouldn't want you to get invested in a book and then get turned off by something that you weren't prepared for. 

Also, this book isn't a high priority at the moment. Actually, I'm kind of taking a break from writing (Yet I keep writing or starting new books😀🔫). My biggest priority at the moment is a book I've been working on for yearssssssssssss, I'm co-writing it with my best friend, EmmmaJonnes so please go check it out if you'd like. 

Anyways, happy reading :)))