Saving Isabella

Chapter 14: Party time

A/N 

Guys I actually can't belive I'm over 1.700 reads! What the actual fuck! Anyways the next few chapters, this one included, are going to be more interesting. If you want to comment, anything really that would help me out a lot, thanks, I hope yall have a great day.

I'm pretty sure I'm not allowed my phone because it was in my backpack and nobody bothered to give it back. I don't care really, I mean I'm super bored but it could be so much worse, plus I can't wait to get completely stoned tonight. It's not like I'm not already in trouble, might be drunk out of my mind or high or a combo when I get beaten up. Even though I don't have my phone I have an alarm clock on my dresser so I can see the hour.

The minutes finally hit 10:00, and I rush to the bathroom, pulling out my small makeup bag. I've already got foundation on, covering up the bruises as best as I can. I add a bit of blush to bring some life back to my face, giving my cheeks a faint pink glow. With quick strokes, I apply mascara, making my lashes look longer and thicker. A thin line of black eyeliner follows, sharp and precise, giving my eyes some definition.

For the finishing touch, I blend on a soft, blue eyeshadow. It's subtle but enough to make my eyes stand out. I study my reflection—my makeup looks good, hopefully good enough to distract from my worn out outfit. I'm giving skater-girl vibes.

Before I leave, I reach into the toilet tank and grab my stash—weed and ecstasy pills—tucking them away safely. Ready to go.

It's 10:23, and I still need to sneak out. Pre-gaming isn't necessary—I can still feel the lingering effects of my earlier drug cocktail. I grab my wallet, stuffed with my fake ID, and quietly move toward the glass doors that lead to my balcony. They squeak as I open them, making me curse under my breath. The cold evening air hits me as I step outside, biting against my skin and sending a chill down my spine. The night feels still, the sky above heavy with clouds, blocking out most of the stars. I ease the doors shut behind me, this time silently.

I glance down from the balcony's edge. The drop to the ground below is steep—at least 10 or 12 meters, far too risky. The front lawn stretches out beneath me, vast and perfectly manicured, leading toward the long driveway and the quiet street beyond. The house looms behind me, a sprawling mansion with its towering walls, large windows, and elegant stone facade. Dominic is already down there, leaning against the cold stone wall, his posture relaxed, but his eyes are locked on me, questioning. His dark silhouette stands out against the dim light cast by the mansion's exterior lamps.

I slip my wallet into my pocket and step onto the balcony railing. Dominic's expression shifts from casual to alarmed, but I pay him no mind. My focus is on the first-floor balcony below me, which is positioned on a different wall to my right. The two balconies form a 90-degree angle—mine faces the front of the mansion, overlooking the expansive lawn and the street, while the first-floor balcony faces the eastern side of the property, looking out toward the dense woods that surround the estate. The trees loom in the distance, their dark outlines barely visible in the night, enclosing the entire property except for the southern side, where the main entrance lies.

My plan is clear: jump across to the first-floor balcony, using the stone ledge as a foothold. It's risky, but the woods and darkness provide enough cover for me to make my escape unnoticed.

I take a deep breath and steady myself on the railing, feeling the cold metal under my fingers as I glance toward the first-floor balcony. My pulse quickens, but I block out the fear. It's all or nothing now. With one swift motion, I launch myself into the air, pushing off the railing as hard as I can. My body surges upward, the cold wind rushing against my face. I bend forward mid-flight, tucking my legs tightly to my chest. In a fluid motion, I twist and rotate, performing a somersault as I soar through the air.