Part 83

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Isa's POV
From the very first seconds I woke up today, it felt rough, not because it seemed like getting out of bed was painful, because it always was, but because I was convinced that I would soon everything I've been trying to avoid for weeks.

I inhale sharply as I pull on my matte black heels. The dark red dress had a slit right up my thigh, allowing the silky fabric to flow with every step I took.

There was a strap on my right leg to which I attached my gun. I could hear my heels clicking on the marble floor in the hallway.

When I drive off there, I tense up every other second. I grip the steering wheel tightly, my palms sweating slightly with fear, a large dose of adrenaline merging with almost every other emotion I'm feeling. I would burst into flames in an instant if I felt another spiral of emotions on top of the many I've already experienced.

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When I arrive I park the car a few meters from the building, considering the many cars that lined the streets along the sidewalks, it was even necessary, Sam didn't know about it, and I'm glad I decided to do it Not telling her that I'm literally throwing myself into a battlefield, she would probably freak out.

I stood taller and swallowed my every intuition, feeling incredibly scared. Realistically and on the topic of survival I should have run away and forgotten all about it but I can't.

As my graceful steps make their way to the entrance, amazed when the guards take one look at me and say nothing, allowing me to continue walking straight into the building.

Strange, I think to myself.

While I know for a fact that my father is aware of my invitation to this so-called "meeting," he has undoubtedly spoken to my grandmother, so something tells me that's why they let me through.

Men stared in my direction every now and then and noticed me when the Miss Gates herself arrived, not only men but also women eyed me suspiciously, they knew who I was, but their confusion became much more evident when I was there without anyone at my side page was seen.

Everyone chatted quietly with each other, the sound of a violin gently piercing the quiet murmur of the room. I was offered white wine, which I took with a polite smile, but knowing my father's lessons, I didn't take a sip.

?: Miss Gates.

A man with a thick familiar Italian accent says behind me. I turn around, careful not to spill any wine on my hand.

I: Marco.

I say with raised eyebrows, recognition masking my fear. He looks me up and down for a moment before sighing.

M: You look...pretty.
I: Thank you, now tell me, did my father send you? Hoping he would ask me to come to him as nicely as possible?

Marco looks taken back, parting his lips slightly before swallowing nervously.

M: Y..yes, he did. He wants to see you immediately.
I: I thought so.

A quiet hum escapes my lips and Marco looks visibly tense. I squint my eyes and feel an assertion bubble up with every confident word I utter. My insides churned with fear while my heart played the strings of the situation like a harp.

M: Follow me, Miss Gates.

He orders, turning around. I follow until we are in a corridor, silent and without confidence in the way of socialization, now that we are in an area very guarded by my father.

I keep one hand discreetly on my right thigh, ready to draw my weapon if I'm forced to use it. My lips press together tightly and I breathe in quietly, just as Marco opens a door, behind which my father is waiting on the other side.

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