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 stepped into the room I'd be staying in, and my breath caught in my throat. The walls were a soft grey, lending a calm, almost soothing aura to the space, yet there was something undeniably luxurious about it all. The bed, massive and inviting, dominated the left side of the room, piled high with pillows of various shapes and sizes. A black blanket, smooth and rich in texture, was draped elegantly over the bed, contrasting beautifully with the lighter tones of the walls.
My eyes drifted to the mirror near the balcony. It was large, framed in sleek black, and angled just so it could catch the first rays of morning light. The balcony, hidden behind sheer curtains, overlooked the backyard. The curtains fluttered gently in the breeze, letting in just enough light to create an ethereal glow that danced across the room. The view beyond them was serene, almost dreamlike, with the faintest whisper of greenery from the garden below.
A small, cozy couch nestled in the corner with a minimalist black floor lamp beside it. Everything in the room screamed elegance, from the polished wood to the subtle accents that hinted at the room's undeniable expense. It felt like stepping into a magazine spread—a place too perfect to be real.
Curiosity pulled me toward a door beside the bedside table. I turned the knob and pushed it open, revealing a bathroom that was nothing short of extraordinary. Black marble walls glistened under the soft lights, casting reflections that added depth to the already opulent space. A small, freestanding black bathtub sat majestically in one corner, its glossy surface inviting me to sink into its depths. The sink, sleek and modern, matched the deep, inky tones of the room, as did the toilet.
Even the towel hanger was perfectly aligned with the room's aesthetic, an understated touch that didn't go unnoticed.
As I stood there, taking it all in, I couldn't help but feel a strange mix of awe and unease. Everything was so perfect, so meticulously crafted, that it almost felt like I didn't belong. Yet here I was, standing in the middle of what could only be described as a sanctuary of luxury.But despite the room's beauty, there was a heaviness in the air, a reminder that I was still very much a stranger in this world.
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After exploring the room, I decided it was time to freshen up. I went over to the shopping bags I had tossed onto the bed earlier and grabbed some fresh clothes. The bathroom was just as luxurious as I remembered, with its black marble walls gleaming under the soft lights.
As I stepped into the shower, the warm water washed away the tension of the day. For a moment, I let myself forget everything—the kidnapping, the fear, the uncertainty—and simply enjoyed the sensation of being enveloped in the steam and warmth.
Once I finished, I slipped into a pair of white sweatpants and a black shirt we had picked up during today's shopping spree. It felt good to wear something new, something comfortable. Today had been surprisingly nice; we shopped, we laughed, and even indulged in McDonald's. I hadn't eaten out in six months because of my illness—too risky, too many unknowns. But now, none of that really mattered. My future felt as uncertain as ever, so why not enjoy the little things while I could?
