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...
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Isabella's POV:
I was disoriented, unable to process what was happening as my vision blurred and darkness closed in. Noah's voice cut through the fog of my consciousness, his tone a mixture of urgency and concern.
"Fuck, yes, yes, go ahead!" he shouted, and I felt him gripping my fingers, his gaze intense and worried. The panic in his voice was unmistakable, and it felt oddly comforting amidst my panic.
Michael was on the phone, speaking quickly in Italian, and I could hear the siren of the ambulance approaching. I felt Noah's hands on my cheeks, his voice stern but soft, trying to keep me conscious.
"Isabella, open your eyes," he commanded, but I could barely respond, my vision darkening further.
When I woke again, the ambulance had arrived. Noah's face was a blur as he helped me onto the stretcher, his movements careful but hurried. The paramedics swiftly attended to me, and I felt the cool, controlled air of the ambulance as it sped towards the hospital.
As I lay there, oxygen mask on my face, I heard snippets of conversation between the doctor and the paramedics. Noah's responses were short and clipped, his frustration palpable. Despite the chaos, I found a strange solace in his presence.
When we reached the hospital, the emergency team took over, and Noah had to step back. His face was the last thing I saw before they wheeled me into the emergency room. His eyes were
full of worry, and for a moment, I wished I could reassure him that I would be okay.
Noah's POV:
I watched as Isabella was rushed into the emergency room. The chaotic mix of concern and helplessness left me feeling unsettled. Her pale face, the blood, the fear—it all haunted me as I stepped out of the room.
The emergency doctor had given me instructions to wait outside. The sterile smell of the hospital and the clatter of medical equipment only heightened my anxiety. Michael stayed by my side, his silence a reflection of the tense atmosphere.
I paced back and forth, frustration mounting with every passing minute. My thoughts were a whirlwind, unable to focus on anything other than Isabella's well-being. I had to keep reminding myself that the doctors were handling it, that they had everything under control.
A few hours later, the emergency doctor emerged. His face was stern but not grim. "How is she?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
"She's stable for now," the doctor said. "We've managed to stabilize her vitals. We'll need to run some more tests to determine the underlying cause of her symptoms. You can see her once we've completed the initial assessments."
I nodded, trying to process the information. "Thank you," I said, though the words felt inadequate.
As the doctor walked away, I turned to Michael. "Stay here and keep me updated," I instructed. He nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation.
I took a seat in the waiting area, my mind racing with thoughts of Isabella. The urgency of the situation had brought out emotions I wasn't accustomed to handling. Despite the chaos and my own fears, I couldn't shake the feeling that I needed to protect her, to ensure she was safe.For now, all I could do was wait and hope for the best.
