Mafia king and demon, Noah Gabriel is everyone's fear, and the very mention of his name makes one shudder.
Everyone adores Isabella Rose Robinson, who is known as an angel, and she has her unique style of speaking.
After they meet, Noah forces her...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Trigger warning⚠️
Isabella's POV:
I could hear the man's groans in the distance, each one punctuated by his pained breaths. The strikes he delivered echoed against the walls as if seeking some twisted form of justice. I rolled into a tight ball, my sobs breaking through the cold night air. The harsh reality of the situation felt surreal, like a nightmare I couldn't wake from.
It wasn't my fault. I had stayed late at the bakery, mopping up after the day's work. Ava had been called away early, her family in need. My mind replayed the same mantra over and over.
It wasn't my fault.
The sound of a gunshot pierced through the darkness. My heart skipped a beat. Was someone dead? I couldn't comprehend what was happening, but the deafening echo of the gunshot was terrifying.
''No, no, did someone just lose their life?'' I screamed into the void, my voice trembling.
"It's alright," a deep, husky voice assured me.
I could barely see through my tear-blurred vision, but the voice was familiar. I wiped my eyes as best as I could, slowly raising my face. It was Noah. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat echoing through my ears, drowning out all other sounds. My body felt like it was caught in a vice, trembling uncontrollably.
"I can't breathe," I gasped, struggling for air as the world seemed to close in around me.
"Listen to my heartbeat," Noah's voice was steady, almost calming. He gently placed my hand on his chest, guiding me to focus on his steady rhythm.
His gaze was intense, holding mine with an unwavering calm. I tried to focus on his breathing, mirroring it as best as I could. In and out. The rhythm began to stabilize my racing heart. His presence felt oddly protective, as though he could shield me from any impending disaster.
"Is he d-dead?" I stuttered, my voice barely a whisper, and the fear that gripped me was almost suffocating.
"No," Noah replied firmly. His assurance did little to calm my rising fears. Men, in general, seemed like the embodiment of danger. The idea of Noah, with his gun and his brutal justice, only added to the confusion in my mind.
As if sensing my unease, Noah knelt before me, his face close enough for me to feel his warm breath against my skin. His attempt to comfort me was in stark contrast to his intimidating presence. He wore a suit jacket that now enveloped me, its warmth a small comfort against the biting chill.
Andrew arrived, his concern evident as he enveloped me in a tight hug. It was a brief moment of solace, but the fear still gripped me. The arrival of Daniel and Rowan only added to my anxiety. Their sympathetic glances did nothing to ease my discomfort.
Noah's orders were quick and harsh. "Andrew and Daniel, take him to one of the cells." The word 'cells' echoed in my mind. Was Noah some sort of mafia boss? The thought sent another shiver down my spine. It was a grim thought, but if that man was gone forever, I wouldn't shed a tear.
I leaned against the wall, my head resting on my trembling hands. I wanted nothing more than to cry, to let the pain and confusion flow out of me. The cold breeze made my body shiver uncontrollably.
Suddenly, Noah's jacket was around me, offering warmth and a strange sense of security. He stood before me, his black shirt partially unbuttoned, an aura of authority and unspoken emotion surrounding him.
"Rowan, get in the car. I will bring her," Noah instructed.
I was paralyzed by fear and indecision. He would take me home, but what did that mean? I couldn't stand the thought of being alone again, but I was terrified of his gun and the power he seemed to wield.
"Come on, give me your hands; it will be fine," Noah said, his patience clearly wearing thin. His tone was commanding, but the softness in his voice was undeniable.
My heart raced with conflicting thoughts. The darkness of the streets was less inviting than the fear of Noah's intentions. My options were limited, and though my subconscious screamed at me to run, I chose to trust Noah's intentions.
I took his hands, feeling the warmth of his grasp envelop me. My back throbbed with pain from where I was pushed earlier, and I winced as he lifted me with ease. His strength was palpable, and I found myself oddly comforted by his proximity. My head rested on his chest, his heartbeat a steady rhythm beneath me.
As we got into the car, his arms never left me. I was still on his lap, held tightly against him. The warmth and safety of his embrace were a stark contrast to the night's events. I felt a tear slip down my cheek, and Noah's touch gently wiped it away.
"Stop crying, you're safe," he said, his voice a blend of harshness and tenderness.
I was exhausted, my eyelids heavy with sleep. His embrace was incredibly soothing, his heartbeat and warmth creating a sanctuary from the pain. As I looked up at him, his eyes meeting mine, I felt a strange mix of fear and comfort. My eyelids finally gave in, and I began to drift off, the comfort of his arms easing me into sleep despite the chaos of the night.
