Pretty When You Cry ୨୧ Rafe Cameron

twenty eight

After what felt like an eternity of sitting on the edge of the bed, attempting to push through the searing pain pulsating from her scraped-up leg, Isla was startled by two loud knocks echoing through the door, accompanied by muffled words from the other side, 'dinner time'.

As a tall man opened the door, he escorted her down the stairs and into a dimly lit dining room. Three plates were elegantly set on the table, and the room was empty except for a broad-shouldered figure with closely cropped hair, who was intently studying a painting on the wall.

At the sound of her footsteps, he spun around, causing Isla's pulse to come to a sudden halt.

Rafe Cameron stood in front of her. His hair was buzzed off and his skin was bronzed. He also looked much stronger than he ever did, which told Isla he'd been lifting weights. His lively change in appearance was quite a contrast to Isla's, as she looked like a skeleton.

'Isla?' Rafe said astonished that Isla was here. He was here for a bid on the cross, so it made zero sense that Isla would be here. He noticed her frailness, the tired look in her eyes. Whenever she had been these last six weeks, she wasn't well fed, that's for sure.

Thoughts ran through Islas's head about this having something to do with Ward since Rafe was here, but that made no sense. Why would he not be expecting her?

A tanned ebony-haired man emerged from another doorway, his neck adorned in gold chains. 'Hello,' he grinned.

'Who are you? What is this??' Isla inquired, her voice stripped.

'My name is Carlos Signh, and you— one of you, have something I want,' he replied eerily.

'I thought you were buying the cross off me??' Rafe said, sounding frustrated.

'You see Mr. Cameron, I am interested in the cross. However, that isn't the real prize here,' Singh responded.

Isla scoffed, 'How can a billion-dollar cross not be the 'real prize'?' The excessive greed displayed by wealthy individuals often left her utterly astounded.

'This,' Singh replied, pointing to a painting of a city made of gold, 'this is El Dorado, the real treasure. A city made entirely of pure gold. One of you has Denmark Tanny's diary, the key to finding the treasure.'

The Pogues did have this diary, but Isla wasn't aware of that. It came into their possession while Isla was stuck with Rafe.

Isla was beyond sick of this gold bullshit. She didn't give a fuck about being rich, she just wanted to be normal for once. 'I didn't even know that existed, and I've been on a deserted island for weeks. What could I possibly have to offer you?'

'Yeah I don't know anything about this either, I'm out,' Rafe said, pulling his seat out from the table and trying to exit the room, only to be pushed back in by a security guard.

'Do I look like a fool to you Mr. Cameron?' Singh said angrily.

Rafe simply shrugged, a smug expression on his face. He clearly didn't understand the gravity of the situation the two of them were in.

'Escort them upstairs, and you two look outside when you get up there,' Singh demanded, causing to men to bring them upstairs and throw them into the room Isla was formerly in.

Isla made her way to the window, her footsteps echoing in the tense silence of the room, as Rafe paced back and forth with a worried expression. Meanwhile, Jimmy Portis, the pilot, was bound with rope and unable to move. and circled by more men strapped with guns. Singh came outside and at the same time, Rafe came to watch with Isla. Singh took a gun out of his back pocket and pointed it at Jimmy Portis' head, looking up at the window and making eye contact with Isla. He blew Jimmy's brains out. Isla shuddered and Rafe turned away.