Lucky has a good life: he has his brothers, his bike, and a stable job.
Isabella is happy just where she is. She's safe, she's in college and had her family. Who cares if her parents are a little judgemental?
But when fate comes into play and they f...
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Isabella was helping Katar in the kitchen the next day when her phone began to ring.
"It's an unknown number sweetie," Katar looked over at her phone, and she went to pick it up, "Hello?"
"If you react to this message in anyway, I will kill your little Asian friend standing beside you," the deep voice said down the phone, "so don't react, my darling."
"Vicky... hey," Isabella said casually, and Katar smiled before returning to make sandwiches. Isabella slowly wandered out of the kitchen until she was out of earshot. The deep voice chuckled, "Good. Now, I heard you got yourself into a little.... trouble. Am I right?"
"Marcus," she spat, "I'm right aren't I? Marcus Gonzalez."
The voice on the line was silent for a moment, "I prefer uncle Mark, but whatever suits."
"What do you want?" Isabella rolled her eyes, and Marcus laughed, "well, to put it simply, I need your help. When I promised your mother to get you away from the bikers, she promised me you would help me take them down. I did my part. The fact that you returned is not my problem."
Isabella bit her lip nervously, "I'm not helping you do anything."
"I can't have a small-town motorcycle club make a fool of me and live," Marcus chortled, "it won't stand well with my men, and it doesn't stand well with me. Your mother-"
"My mother– your sister– does not control me. So whatever she promised you, forget it. These men have taken care of me and protected me," Isabella spat, "do not call this number again."
She hung up the phone before he could say anything else, biting her lip as she thought of what to do.
Seconds later, she was walking down he hall to the last place she thought she would go, and knocking on the door. Phantom opened it, looking down, unimpressed at her, "Yes?"
"We need to talk," Isabella's tiny fur guts ducked under his huge arm and walked into the office. He sighed, closing the door behind him and following her over, "what is it?"
"I just got a call from my uncle," she said, and he was instantly on high alert, "What? What did he say?"
"He wanted me to help 'take you down'," Isabella explained, "my mother promised him that once I was returned home, I would tell him everything. Destroy you from the inside, out."
"So that's what he wanted? For you to spy on us and for us to go down," Phantom frowned as he looked out the window, "and what did you tell him?"
"I told him I wouldn't. You... your club has protected me. From my mother, my father. From this whole Gonzalez thing. I would never sell you out," Isabella said softly, and he raised a brow, "so why come tell me? Why not tell Lucky?"
"You're the President, are you not? Besides, Lucky would throw a bitch fit and probably break a table," Isabella sighed, and Phantom nodded, "You did the right thing, coming to me. I appreciate it."
"I don't want you to hate me," Isabella blurted out, "not because I particularly care, or because I want you to like me, but because it stresses Lucky out that his President doesn't approve of his girlfriend. So for the sake of him, can we at least pretend to get along?"
Phantom eyed her for a minute, "Fury was right. You are selfless."
She just sighed, waiting for his response to her initial question. His arms folded across his big chest as he spoke, "I don't hate you. I just don't trust you. But you've come to me with this information, and I'm beginning to second guess my doubts."
Isabella nodded, satisfied. "Well. I'll see you later then."
