Bound By Sin

Confrontation.

The night was dark, the road illuminated only by the dim glow of Nicholas's headlights. He drove aimlessly, his fingers gripping the steering wheel, his mind a tangle of thoughts, plans, and the cold realization of what he had to do. He didn't know where he was going; he just needed to clear his head, to think. But the more he drove, the more his mind circled back to one person.

Isabella.

She had to be dealt with. She had suggested going to the police. She was the loose thread that could unravel everything. And now, as he drove through the empty streets of their quiet town, his eyes scanning the sidewalk, fate seemed to intervene.

There she was.

Isabella was walking down the sidewalk, alone, her head slightly bowed as she made her way toward the corner store. Nicholas's heart leaped in his chest, a cold, calculated chill running down his spine. This was it. His opportunity. He slowed the car down, pulling up beside her, rolling down the window.

"Isabella!" he called out, his voice startlingly casual, almost friendly.

Isabella flinched slightly at the sound of her name, and when she turned to see Nicholas sitting behind the wheel, her face paled just for a moment before she quickly masked it with a small, tight smile.

"Oh, hey, Nicholas," she replied, her voice steady, but there was an undeniable tension in her tone. She was already scared of him—he could see it in her eyes. But she was trying to hide it. She didn't know he had heard her conversation with Genevieve the night before. She had no idea that he knew her plan.

"Where are you headed?" Nicholas asked, leaning slightly out of the window, his voice easy, smooth, as though nothing was wrong.

"Just going to the store," Isabella replied, her steps slowing as she walked alongside the car.

"I'll take you," Nicholas offered, his smile friendly, but there was something off about it—something too wide, too forced. "You'll get there quicker. Come on, hop in."

Isabella's heart raced. She didn't want to get in the car with him. Every instinct screamed at her to stay far away from him, but she couldn't let him see her fear. Not yet. "No, it's fine, really. It's not far, and I don't mind the walk."

Nicholas' smile didn't falter, but his eyes darkened slightly. "I insist, Isabella. It's no trouble at all. Just get in the car."

Isabella shook her head again, her steps faltering as she tried to keep walking. "I appreciate it, but really, I'm fine."

That's when Nicholas' patience snapped.

He stopped the car abruptly, the screech of the tires echoing down the empty street. His hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white, and he turned his head toward her slowly, his expression transforming from false friendliness to something much darker, something terrifying.

"Isabella," he said softly, his voice dripping with cold venom, "I swear to fucking God, if you don't get in the fucking car, I'm gonna kill you."

The blood drained from Isabella's face, her breath catching in her throat as terror washed over her in a sickening wave. Her legs locked in place, and she stared at him, frozen. The way he said it—so calm, so matter-of-fact—it was like he wasn't even angry, like he had just accepted what he had to do, and now he was simply stating a fact.

Her heart raced, pounding in her ears. She was trapped. She could feel the cold grip of fear closing around her, tightening, but her survival instincts kicked in. Without a word, she nodded and slowly walked around to the passenger side of the car, her hands shaking as she opened the door and slid inside.