❀❀❀
Isabelle prepares some tea for herself. Despite having a complete pantry, the house feels so empty. Beautiful, but it's nothing more than a hollow shell. If she prances around carelessly, it will crack and crumble before her eyes.
An elegant display for guests, towers of food and drink merely for decoration. Glittering chandeliers and humble servants, eager to assist. The Valdez are merely attending and she's their esteemed guest. If they kidnap their guests to show them off, Isabelle assumes she'll live for a little while longer.
The smell of diamonds, wine and sugarcoated smiles. Rich people and their tacky taste for parties. Perhaps it's an open threat, having decorative weapons placed throughout the hall. Not that she'd be strong enough to pull a sword out of the wall, nor swing it around like a princess out of a novel.
Xingchen would go full geek, if he was here. He'd love to see such pieces, maybe even bargain to get his hands on them. In her eyes, they're just old things.
A group of musicians play in the center, utterly ignored by the audience. Isabelle stares at the food on display, lost in thought as she stares at a tiny piece of tiramisu. A woman passes by her and she pauses. A seductive blend of spicy, fruity and amber notes all brought together with honey and musk.
Poison by Christian Dior? Finally, someone with sophisticated taste. It's her mothers favorite perfume. As a little girl, she loved to play in her mothers dresser and pretend to mix those colorful bottles, as if she was a magical girl creating potions. With a deep breath, she pushes away her thoughts.
The joy a little group of friends had among themselves make her scowl. The entitled, sheltered children of the elite. All that's left for them to do is attend parties and have money handed to them by their parents. Life is a beautiful thing. Yet what most get confused about is the simplest rule. This world, without a doubt, has its favorites. Earn the favor by cheating others for their own personal gain.
Not a single genuine smile in sight. The maids only do what they're told, if they were ordered to shoot, without a doubt they would.
Tonight, Isabelle finds herself trapped. Consider her a prized pet, locked away in a cage of glistening gold. An extravagant, over-the-top gala with tacky designer outfits. A gown made solely of white leather and straps worn by one guest catches her attention.
She'd never be caught dead wearing that. Regardless, she greets them with a smile and makes small talk.
"Care for a dance, my lady?"
He offers his hand. The pair of green eyes scan her figure with a bright smile. A shame his lips don't match the look in his eyes. Handsome yes, but she'd rather keep him at a distance. If she isn't wary, he could slip past the bars of the cage he put her in.
"Santiago. Don't call me that." She avoids eye contact, ignoring his hand. His chin barely touches her bare shoulder and he chuckles. She needs to be taken out, by a sniper or on a date, at this point either one is fine. Bonus points if he's the one behind the gun.
"My apologies." He comments. She raises an eyebrow and takes a step away. Excuse him and his lack of understanding personal space. Goodness.
"What do you want?"
"Please, relax. I would like to know you better. Nothing more."
She pouts crosses her arms. If he's looking for a fight he'll get one. Isabelle glances at the glasses on display. It'd take her a few seconds to break one and stab him.
"Do not try any stunts tonight, Isabelle." He plucks a drink from a passing waiter and enjoys himself. Isabelle crosses her arms and sighs. Fine, she'd humor him.
"I haven't even said anything."
"Trust me, it is not worth the effort."
Isabelle straightens his tie and adjusts his collar. Men and their boring sense of style.
"Come close, quick."
His hands wrap around her waist but their bodies do not touch. Isabelle opens her mouth, ready to complain but he hushes her. Keep at it. If he even tries anything she'd jab his foot with her heel.
"What now?"
"There are rumors circulating. Something along the lines of us being.. involved."
Isabelle snorts and lets out a laugh. She apologizes and tries to hold it in but laughs even louder. Her lips ache with how much she's smiling as she hungrily takes in air. First of all, her date for tonight has eyes for her bestfriend. A rather poor choice but she'd respect his preferences. He and Tristan were.. together? Friends? For some time. He opened up to her about his feelings for him and even gave her advice on how to survive in this place.
"Don't flatter yourself." Isabelle pushes him away. She'd trust him.
Santiago entertains others with small talk as she enjoys herself, stuffing her face with bite-sized servings.
❀❀❀
The dishes before her are delicious on her tongue, but she can't bring herself to swallow another bite. Had it been under normal circumstances, she'd be ecstatic to meet such a beautiful family.
It's common knowledge that the Valdez has influence, not to mention fortune that could be traced centuries back. In business, they are untouchable. One look at them and it became clear who won the gene lottery. Fair, glowing skin paired with dark, luscious hair.
Isabelle envies them. Not just their genes, but their mere existence. While she and her parents put in blood, sweat and tears, these people merely got the favor of others simply by being born. No inch of effort would match the favor they have. It's one of the many truths that's hard to swallow. Isabelle swallows and glances around.
The couple are silent, asking a silent question with their expression. Isabelle sits straight and crosses her legs.
"What are you keeping me alive for?"
There had been rumors this family used rather extreme methods to get as they desired. Santiago smiles and put down his napkin. No, the smile he had shown earlier is a different look from now. She stares at her plate.
Could he be two-faced? What if he poisoned her? She blinks.
"Reassurance. Your father stole from mine."
She raises an eyebrow. They dare weigh her worth in material wealth alone.
The timing of it all is simply too convenient. Whatever was stolen isn't her issue. Rather, it shouldn't but because of how carless her father is, she has no choice but to get involved now.
Isabelle opens her mouth and Santiago kicks her leg under the table. She bites her lip and kicks back. It would have to wait, Isabelle isn't going anywhere at this point.
One question is answered by another question.
"I am merely sparing you to show my goodwill." Antonio steeled his fingers. Ah yes, like that answer solved any of her problems.
"If Mattias were to, unfortunately, run away, we'd have no choice but to kill you." Sofia points out. For someone with soft, enchanting beauty, she has a sickeningly sweet voice. Isabelle thought of an Azalea, a breathtaking but deadly flower.
What are they playing at?
"Don't worry. As long as you follow the rules, we won't harm you."
He heart drums in her chest. She looks down, blinking away the tears as her hands shake. Santiago squeezes her hand underneath the table.
She does not trust their promise at all.
❀❀❀
After their so called dinner had wrapped up, Isabelle was brought back to her room by their son.
The son she doesn't know if she can trust. The door closes with a soft click.
"You must listen to reason." He said. He loosens his tie and reclines on the mini-couch in her room.
"But that's so boring."
Santiago sighs. She grabs a ceramic vase and dares him to come closer. He closes the gap between them with two steps. Great, now what? She puts the vase down. It's a cute shiny pink one that she'd rather not see break into pieces.
"You aren't as innocent as you seem. I like it." He places his hand on her shoulder. Isabelle made a face. What could she do, really? She slaps his hand away.
"You didn't have to kick me!"
She lies on her bed and stretches. Isabelle couldn't wait to whack that stupid look off his face. After that, she'd treat herself at the mall. She barely had any jewelry on her, that simply wouldn't do.
A nice, thick brownie would be amazing right now.
"My bad. I had no other idea at the time on how to keep you quiet." He flashes a half-hearted smile. Oh, he wanted an excuse alright. Rude.
"'Fine, whatever. I don't care anymore, go away." She said. She covers her face with a pillow as she hugs a plush toy.
Men and their half-hearted crap.
"Isabelle, is there anything you'd like to do?"
"Get out of here." She deadpans.
"Out of the question." He responded.
"I'd like to go shopping tomorrow." Isabelle chirps. If she recalls correctly, there was this exquisite jewelry on display she saw the other day. It seemed like the perfect gift for her mother, and a good backup plan if she were to run off. Perhaps, would she need money, she'd trade it at a pawnshop and live comfortably. Yes, solid plan.
He coughs. Santiago sits on the corner of her bed, silent. Isabelle's eyes lit up, eagerly waiting for an answer. She rolls over on one side, hugging a pillow.
"Any other request, your highness?"
Seeing how fit he is and with that charm, it's no wonder Tristan was all over him. Who knows? They might meet and it'll start again. Jennifer and Daniel wouldn't like it, that's for sure.
"You're going to laugh."
"Try me."
"A big teddy bear. I want one in blue." She emphasized, making an invisible circle with her hands. The bigger, the better! Isabelle wanted to hug it each night and pretend it was Stephen.
He shows his crossed fingers and erupts in laughter. Isabelle rolls as her face burns in shame. She knew he'd find it funny.
"I'm sorry it's just.. you looked so serious." Santiago wheezes. She pinches his leg and rolls over. Santiago didn't need to know why. He ought to respect a lady's privacy! He stays for a bit longer and wishes her goodnight, taking his leave.
The moment he closes the door, Isabelle lets out a groan and throws a book across the room.
❀❀❀
The inviting aroma of coffee and warm bread nudges her awake.
"Good morning."
"Good morning, miss. Did you sleep well?" The maid replied. Yeah, right. Try getting kidnapped. A knock on the door makes her look up.
"Good morning, Cross." Santiago greets, pulling a stool up. She waves it off and stretches her arms.
"Morning, Santiago." She said. Isabelle takes a generous bite into her breakfast, being as unladylike on purpose. Santiago opens the doors and a maid walks in, carrying a body-size pastel blue teddy bear. Isabelle's eyes widens in delight. He bought it already!?
She reaches out towards it, forgetting her breakfast. The sensation of a soft fluffy plushie made her feel like she is hugging a cloud. Isabelle rubs her face into it, taking in the scent of soft blueberries.
"As you requested, a big blue plush bear."
"Bear." She coos, hugging it so tightly. Santiago gives her thick fashion magazines. Isabelle blinks. Did he mean that literally or? She couldn't believe it, she said that as a total joke.
"You're letting me?"
"Of course."
"I really get to pick? You're not half bad after all!" She pulls him in for a hug. They talk more as she ate breakfast in bed. Santiago proved himself to be a talkative fellow who would chat the day away, if he could. Their time was cut short, being called by his parents.
"Try some of these." Isabelle nibbles on her macarons.
"I'll pass."
"Come here and open your mouth. I know you haven't eaten." She said. Santiago obliges and he pauses, as if his mind just reset. He wipes his mouth and rests his hand on the nape of his neck, staring at her tray.
She clears her throat and tucks hair behind her ear. After a moment of silence, he suddenly has a phone call. Santiago is holding his phone upside down as he talks, excusing himself and it makes her smile.
Isabelle happily spends her day checking out the brochure, checking out clothes and a new bedroom set. After talking to the maid about it she speeds off looking for him. Not knowing exactly where he is, she walks around the rather spacious mansion alone.
Tacky display for the nth time and these corridors all look the same. It's eerie, like no time ever passes here.
The sound of a conversation makes her pause. She peers past the corner and finds Santiago talking to his parents. Keen on keeping herself out of sight, she hides behind the wall and listens closely.
"To get their hands on teens, youth camps nowadays give away magic candy for a taste of heaven? Despicable."
Isabelle didn't have the slightest idea to what they were talking about. Candy? She could go for some candy right now. The fizzy rock kind that bubbles in her mouth, she loved those.
"Father, we haven't been paid for our goods. I'm looking into how they got hold of some." Santiago mentions.
"I haven't been able to get in touch with James Cameron for over a month. What have you done?"
"I wasn't the one who killed him. What about Samuel? He nearly died." Santiago said.
Isabelle's her heartbeat gets stuck in her ears.
"You disobeyed me!" Antonio hissed.
"My darling son, what if you had gotten hurt?" Sofia cooed.
"Mother, please. The conflict with the gangs over James' murder hasn't been resolved yet." Santiago explained.
Isabelle covers her mouth with her hands as her body trembles beyond her control.
Please don't be the James she knows.
No, maybe they just had the same name. Years ago, when neither of her parents showed up for family day, he came out of nowhere and became her dad for the day. Isabelle couldn't wrap her head around it. Mister Cameron, the only guy Tristan is intimidated by.
"What about the Pierce boy?"
Isabelle rubs her pendant in between her fingers, listening to their conversation.
"Leave that to me." Santiago answered.
The sound of approaching footsteps and her chest twists with cold fear. She scrambles for any open door and forces herself into one. A sigh escapes her lips as her back slides against the door.
A soft whimper in the room. The sound of a sad, quiet call for help tugs on her conscience. Against her better judgement, she looks up. She faces a man strapped to a chair, with visible wounds and blood everywhere. Beside him is a table with what looked to be surgical tools and antiseptics, also stained with blood.
What?
The man's mouth is gagged but at the sight of her he sways, an effort to get her attention. Isabelle shakily walks towards him and pulls down the rag from his lips. She grabs a knife and slowly cut the ropes, setting him free.
"Thank you, miss."
Honestly, she needs to stop meeting people like this. First, Samuel and now this fellow.
Is the universe trying to tell her something? Isabelle dropped the weapon. Maybe she's meant to be a public servant of sorts. He stands up slowly with her help and looks around. He grabs an injection and administers it into his arm. Isabelle flinches.
Needles.
"Isabelle.. Cross." She looks away. It smells terrible, as if mold and blood came together and had a party in some humidity.
"Peter Young." He smiles softly. She takes a clean cotton pad and douses it in sterile water, gently cleaning what she could. Isabelle then proceeds to place antiseptic on his wounds and bandages him up as neatly. He flinches and groans but doesn't stop her.
Binge-watching all those medical dramas did come in handy! Chloe was right! As usual.
"How can I repay you, Miss Cross?" Peter asked. He rubs his wrists, still pink from the tight bindings. Isabelle holds his hands, her lips quivering as she squeezes her eyes shut. The first people to come into her head aren't her family, but Tristan and his relatives.
"Please, stay alive." She pleads, placing a silk handkerchief into his hands.
"It appears we're in the same boat." He comments, chuckling softly.
"I guess you can say that."
"I'd hug you but I'm in dire need of a bath." He smiled sheepishly and scratches his neck.
"It's okay." Isabelle giggles.
"Could you do me one more favor, Cross?"
She nods.
❀❀❀
Following his directions, Isabelle shut off the power switch, causing the house to turn dark. Shouts, orders and a rush of people. She immediately runs towards her room.
The sound of fighting and gun fire make her drop to her knees and cover her head.
"Do not allow him to escape!"
She slowly crawls in and immediately shuts the door. The eerie moonlight paints the room in an unwelcoming light. She lift her hands up to pray. After reciting three times, the lights switch on. Isabelle flung herself towards the window and spots a figure running past the gates, barely visible.
She lets out a sigh of relief.
Peter promised to come back with help. Hopefully, she'd last long enough.
Would they make her do terrible things, to pay off this stupid debt her father ignored?
She won't be able to know until it already happens. Damn it all. Isabelle kicks off the sheets, unable to sleep. A knock on the door made her roll her eyes and she slaps her bathrobe on. Santiago greets her with a smile and hands her a paper bag.
They're not brownies.
Isabelle peered inside and finds office wear. Were they going somewhere? He closes the door behind him.
"Look, your father's debt isn't something you can pay easily." He points out.
Her mother should be able to handle it, no problem. Her family wasn't rich by any means. They simply knew how to manage their money well. Well, at least her mother knew how to.
"What makes you say that?" She said.
"Three hundred thousand, Isabelle." Santiago clicks his tongue. She drops to her knees and covers her ears.
How in the world did he owe that much!? Had her father gone into gambling, again? He promised to stop. All men do is lie.
"If.. if you give me time, I can pay it back. Someday. I promise!" Isabelle pleads. It wasn't much, since she'd probably die before then.
Would she have to dabble in dirty work, for her freedom?
"Can you, someday?" Santiago crosses his arms. Things were not in her favor.
"That won't do. Why don't you work for me, instead?" He suggests. She has no clue to what kind of work they do. If it's anything like what she overheard, she's a goner.
Isabelle swallows.
"Unless... you'd rather sell your body." He cracks his index finger.
Santiago presses her body against his. This isn't good. He gently traces her neck, slowly making his way to her cleavage. Isabelle bites her lip. Not hearing a reply, he traces it farther to her stomach.
"Well?"
❀❀❀
The office isn't as bleak as she expected. It looks like an extension of the mansion, much to her surprise. Isabelle squares her shoulders. She got to wear slacks, at least.
She'll show them. In no time, she'd kick him out and this will be owned by her. They're rather too fit for her liking but she adores the style. Like a strong, competent boss. The sole heiress of a large company, a little drama fantasy she conjured up.
Santiago pressured her into making a decision.
She'd need to work for any chance of escape, somehow. A man named Logan is entrusted to look after her, as the newly recruited member. Logan Allen. Mister red hair and big blue eyes, eager for any order. Perfect. He seems reliable, with such obvious muscles. Regardless, he has a sweet smile with the personality to match. His voice however, is as deep as a trench in the pacific ocean.
The task in front of her doesn't register and her mind wanders. In the middle of dancing in white, pink pearly clouds, the image of a green-eyed young man smiles in her direction. Her daydream disappears in a puff of smoke and she's brought back to reality.
The more she thinks about him, the more confused she gets. How many sides does he have? The guy who told her about his past love, all melodramatic with smiles. He had a genuine, kind look in the eyes.
A plump-looking man with a group of men in suits pass by, checking her out and scoffing. Isabelle narrows her eyes, crossing her arms.
"Who do you think you are, glaring at me like that?" He threatens. For an nasty old guy, he still has guts of steel. His breath smells of smoke and something rotten she doesn't recognize.
Her lack of a response seems to agitate the man even further. He raises his hand to hit her and in response she kicks his groin, crumpling to the ground in pain.
"Don't involve yourselves! I'll deal with this whore." He raises his hand towards his followers. Isabelle rolls her eyes. Oh? How far can he reach?
"Come on then, you old fart." She flips her hair.
Isabelle is not be a fighter, but she is agile. It has been years since the last gymnastics competition, but the body remembers. Thanks to her coach, daily training became a habit. The man charges and she lands a kick to his chest. With a gasp, he stumbles into the arms of his men.
She dashes forward, giving a generous flurry of kicks to her opponents.
"You were saying?" Isabelle smiles. The old man grabs her leg and forcefully pulls her to the ground. He raises his fist and lands a punch, the sting of pain. The others grab her and place her hands behind her back.
"You cowards!" Isabelle spat. They punch her stomach, knocking all the air out of her lungs. She sputters and gags.
"Hey!"
Logan rushes in, fending them off and dragging Isabelle out. Looks like someone took their sweet time. He shuts the door behind him. Couldn't he have done that sooner? Goodness, men and their delayed timing. She crosses her arms.
"For such a sweet face, you sure do pack a punch." He said.
Isabelle laughs nervously. He took out a kit from a cabinet and hands her an ice pack. She presses it against her aching muscles.
"I'm going to feel this in the morning."
This would definitely bruise.
"Let me treat your wounds, okay? I won't.. you know." Logan held a gauze in one hand and betadine in another. Isabelle sees other medicine on the table.
"Okay." She nods. Just looking at the bottles, she feels the sting already. The rings those goons wore weren't for show. Logan gently applied medicine to the side of her face. It has been too long since her body ached this way.
Why does this feel familiar?
He puts a band-aid on her cheek and on the bridge of her nose.
"All done!" He smiled. Logan's eyes widened all of a sudden and he pushes her down. The door swings open, followed by the clang of metal.
"You're dead meat!"
Tell her something she doesn't know, why won't he? Isabelle feels warm liquid seep onto her leg. Logan winces, slowly standing up. A knife is buried in his arm and he pulls it out.
"Get behind me."
There isn't much she could do against bullets and knives.
"Step aside, brother." The leader of the group motioned towards Logan. Were they blood related? Isabelle notices they keep calling each other that. Are they all Valdez, or was it that kind of organization?
"I don't take orders from you." Logan replies.
"Get him!"
Logan engages in a full out fight with five men. One collapsed, causing a gun to slide onto the floor.
All that fighting with a wound in his arm?
He looks so cool. He is busy with one opponent. Isabelle notices another is aiming right for his head. Without a second thought, she grabs the discarded gun and shoots at him. Her body recoils from the gun. The man cries out, a gaping hole now present in his chest. He aims his gun at her but collapses, revealing a figure in the doorway. She trembles.
"How dare you disobey me!" Santiago declares. He shoot at the remaining three, who fall to the ground, lifeless. Isabelle covers her mouth, staring at the dead bodies. He just killed them as if they were flies.
Could she be next?
Santiago kneels in front of her. He stretches out his hand and pat her cheek tenderly. Isabelle looks away, pushing him off.
"I won't hurt you."
He hoists her onto his shoulder, as if she's a sack of potatoes.
"Hey! Where the hell are you taking me!?" Isabelle kicks and slaps him as much as she can, throwing a tantrum.
"The hospital, woman! Where else?"
❀❀❀
"Oh my goodness! I had the exact same dream!" She giggles, switching gear in game. She got the hang of playing after a day of embarrassing moments and Santiago let her play with him.
Headshot. She smirks, proud of her new achievement.
"Truly?" He said, eyes glued to the screen. He had been eliminated minutes ago by a sniper, unfortunately. Funny how he was the one who taught her how to play.
"You nuts? Of course not." She laughs. One last opponent to worry about now and victory will be hers.
"Winner winner, chicken dinner!"
She wanted to relieve her stress, since shopping didn't cut it anymore. Her original plan was to demolish the living room, and he introduced a game. A form of entertainment.
Isabelle half expected chess or monopoly, but no. A battle royale kind-of-game with violence and rivalry. Perfect!
A group of men walk into the room and greet him. One whispers into his ear and he sighs. The atmosphere of the room turns tense and she shuts off the screen. Another round would have to wait.
"Is it that time already?" He checks his watch and rubs his temples. He waves them off.
"Are we going out?" She said. Either another appearance or a session at the office, doing practically nothing worthwhile.
What fun is it to stare at papers and stamp them away? The few things she enjoys is the delicious coffee. Aside that, nothing.
How is Allen doing?
Last time she saw him, he got chewed out.
"Go on, take her away."
The group grab her by the shoulders and hold a knife against her throat. She swallows, the sensation of the sharp blade on her skin. One deep breath and it'd cut her.
What? Is he that bothered by a video game!?
"Santiago? A little help?"
"A shame." He stands in front of a mirror, putting on his tie. He slicks his hair back, as if she isn't about to have her throat slit.
Some great friend she chose.
"But--"
He chucks his phone aside, cracking the window with it. She avoids eye contact, staring at the glistening tiles.
"You told me yourself that you set him free. Face the consequences of your choice, Isabelle." He grabs his coat and puts it on.
"I.. I thought we were friends. I trusted you."
"Well then, you can't exactly blame me, can you? It was your mistake." He pats her cheek and with one last command, she's dragged away.
They bring her to a room. The smell of mold and iron. She pleads while crying, kicking and screaming, but they strap her down onto the chair regardless.
Why so tight? Goodness.
Isabelle squints her eyes shut as tears spill. Her limbs feel as if they're curling in themselves, trying to shrink and somehow escape. The world becomes a blur as memories flash before her eyes.
The group leave the room and she's left with silence. Eerie, haunting silence. Her mind goes blank as she sees a familiar face leaning on the door frame. The same, cold green eyes and stoic expression.
"How long until you break, I wonder?"
He smiles as if he is about to cry. As he shuts the door behind him and picks up a syringe, his expression didn't change.
"Try me."
❀❀❀