𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐗 𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑.
one of the youngest self-made assassins, doesn't show fear towards anyone. he's isn't loyal, generous or ambitious. felix is as cold as a hard stone. it's nearly impossible to get under his skin.. until he meets her, isabella...
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"Isabella Demon, goes by Bella. Seventeen years old, mother and father still alive." I inform Carl as I walk inside the room. Isabella is lying on her back on a table. She's still under narcotics so she won't be awake for another half hour or so.
I originally planned to transport her to the warehouse but since she started to look paler by the minute Carl, our medic, suggested he quickly checked her up.
Carl finally looks up at me as he takes his doctor's toy out of his ear. "And pregnant," he adds.
As soon as the words leave his mouth, I stiffen.
She's pregnant? I couldn't have heard that right. She can't be, it's nearly impossible with what she does. Do her parents know? How long has she known? Does she even know?
"You sure?" I ask as I walk towards the window, putting one hand in my pocket and serving myself some Cabernet Sauvignon with the other.
"Positive, she's still not that long in, but definitely pregnant," he confirms.
Taking a sip from my wine, I stare at the little snowflakes falling down the skies. It didn't snow a lot in Washington, although I didn't mind. I hate the cold, but not as much as I hate summer.
"Sir," Carl's voice fills the room again.
"Mhm?" I hum before turning around to meet his gaze again. "If you want to keep her alive, I suggest you don't give her any more of that," he tells me, pointing through the window to the jars of medicine Luke was storing inside white cases.
Leaning against the windowsill, I pick my glass up again and take another sip while looking at Isabella, who was still lying unconscious on the table.
I examine her for a while. She looked so peaceful, lying there on the table. As if there was nothing to worry about in this cruel world. I would be lying if I said I didn't feel any sort of jealousy.
"Will she die if I keep giving her that?" I finally ask Carl.
He gulps before looking back at Isabella. "There sure is a high chance,"
"What about the baby?"
"What?"
"You heard me,"
"Sir, I don't thin-"
I interrupt him by hanging my hand in the air. These stupid doctors don't know how to shut up and just answer the fucking answer.
"I don't want to hear your opinion. Will the baby still survive?" I repeat myself.
Another visible gulp slips down his throat. "If she's dead before six months of the pregnancy, yes." he finally answers.
I close my eyes as I clench my jaw. I knew that if I wanted Isabella dead, the baby would die with her, I just-. Never in my life have I killed a child, let alone an unborn baby and I don't really plan on doing that.
"Is the baby already properly grown?"
"From what I can tell, she's about eleven weeks pregnant, which means the fetus has already started it-" he kept on talking as I couldn't take another word.
"Yes, yes it has," he took the hint.
"I see, can you take the narcotics out of her body?" I ask him, walking away from the window.
"I'm afraid not, it's been too long and I don't know if it went through the umbilicus or not but I can give her something to loosen it up," he replies, immediately walking towards his equipment.
"You do that, I need to go." I let Carl do whatever he needs to do as I walk out of the room. Running a hand over my eyes, I sigh before going to the van waiting on me outside.
୨୧
three months ago
(212) 555-1234 backdoors. twelve o'clock, prompt.
As soon as I notice the clock hitting midnight I make my way to the location. I've been here for about four hours and all I've been doing is nothing but small talk with all kinds of people.
Usually, I didn't mind the talks but this time I couldn't focus on any of them. Because all that's been going through my head was the image of the brunette that collided with me earlier tonight.
She looked absolutely gorgeous in the pitch-black dress she wore that utterly matched her silky hair and chocolate-brown eyes. For the rest of the night, I've been keeping an eye out for her, hoping I could introduce myself a little better. But unfortunately, there has been no other sign of her, yet.
Opening the big white doors, I enter the side ballroom. Presuming to be met with a group of agents, I am a bit surprised to find only one.
"Mr. Ivanov," I reveal my presence to the man looking outside the big mullioned windows. He chuckles before turning around so I can finally see his face.
I always wondered what he looked like. But now, after seeing his face, I honestly don't know why, he just looked like any typical man, though he looked younger than I expected him to be. Blonde hair, a pair of brown eyes, and a full black suit, with a matchy tie.
As soon as his mouth opens, I notice how deep his voice sounds. "If you really thought Mr. Ivanov himself would come all the way up here to receive one little diamond, I'm sorry to disturb your imagination."
"Russel's the name," he continues before grabbing a pair of leather gloves from his pocket and putting them on while walking to the big table in the middle of the room.
"Well, if you think I'm here to contribute one little diamond, as you call it, I don't think you know the proper reason why you've been sent here," I tell him, putting on my own gloves.
He glares at me as he lifts a small, black briefcase.
"This diamond is worth at least 117 billion dollars, not to mention its rich history of being passed down through generations of great families," I inform him as he walks toward me.
"Well, if it's worth so much, why part with it?" he asks, opening the attache case resting in the palm of his hand, causing it to emit a distinctive clicking sound.
I snicker before grasping for it in my pocket.
But as soon as I feel nothing but air, I know I'm jeopardized.
"Is there a problem?" Russel's voice reverberates through the expansive chamber as I glance ahead.
I was certain I had placed the little case in my pocket right before attending the ball. There was no way it had fallen out of my pocket becau-
