Chapter Twelve – The Ones Who Watch
957 Words
Chapter Twelve – The Ones Who Watch
Isla’s breath quickened as the two men stepped out of the black sedan. Dressed in suits too clean for a small-town street and with movements too sharp to be casual, they didn’t belong here. They belonged to him—to Aiden’s past. And now they were standing at her curb, staring at her house like it was prey.
She backed slowly into the doorway, heart pounding like a war drum in her chest. Her fingers trembled as she dialed Aiden’s number again.
Straight to voicemail.
Panic rose in her throat, but she forced herself to stay calm. She couldn’t afford to be weak—not now. Aiden trusted her to stay inside, but how could she just stand by?
One of the men moved closer, his steps slow and deliberate. He stopped at the edge of her lawn, tilting his head ever so slightly, like a predator studying its prey.
“Miss Isla Belle?” His voice was smooth, too smooth. Polished. Dangerous.
She didn’t answer.
“I know you’re scared,” he continued. “But we’re not here to hurt you. Not unless we have to.”
Her blood turned to ice.
The other man circled to the side of the house, disappearing around the corner.
She didn’t think. She ran.
Through the living room. Down the hall. She grabbed her keys from the hook and sprinted to the back door. Just like Aiden had. If she could get to her car, she could find him.
But the second she flung open the door, she collided with a tall, dark figure.
A scream tore from her throat—until the figure caught her in strong arms and whispered, “It’s me.”
Aiden.
Relief crashed over her, followed instantly by fresh terror.
“They’re here,” she gasped, gripping his jacket. “They’re outside—right now.”
“I know,” he said darkly. “I saw them before they pulled up. That’s why I came back.”
He closed the door quietly behind them, pressing her back against the wall as he peeked through the blinds. The cold fury in his eyes made her shiver.
“Two of them,” he muttered. “Could be more waiting down the street.”
“What do they want?” Isla whispered.
“Me,” Aiden said simply. “They don’t care how they get to me—through my business, my reputation, or…” his eyes dropped to hers, “the people I love.”
Her heart faltered at the word. Love.
He didn’t take it back. He didn’t correct himself. Instead, he cupped her face in both hands and looked at her like she was the only thing tethering him to this world.
“I won’t let them touch you,” he said, his voice low and fierce. “You hear me, Isla? I will burn everything down before I let them hurt you.”
A sound echoed from the front of the house—knocking this time. Polite, sharp, calculated.
Aiden’s jaw tightened. “Go to the bedroom. Don’t come out until I say.”
“Aiden, no—”
But he silenced her with a kiss. Not soft. Not sweet. It was rough, desperate, a kiss that tasted of danger and promises he wasn’t sure he could keep. When he pulled away, his eyes burned into hers.
“I mean it, Isla. Please. Let me do this.”
She nodded, heart racing.
From the bedroom, Isla crouched behind the partially closed door, listening.
She heard the front door open. Voices. Calm, controlled.
“Mr. Blackthorne,” one of the men said. “You’ve been hard to track.”
“I’m not hiding,” Aiden replied smoothly. “You’re just looking in the wrong places.”
“We need to talk. About your... obligations.”
“I burned those bridges,” Aiden snapped. “I’m not part of your world anymore.”
There was a pause.
“That’s unfortunate,” the man said. “Because that world still owns you. And now, thanks to your little… friend, we have leverage.”
The silence that followed was heavy. Then Aiden’s voice, cold and lethal.
“If you so much as breathe her name again, I’ll put you in the ground.”
Isla’s blood ran cold.
“We’ll be in touch,” the man said. “Enjoy your little vacation while it lasts.”
The door shut.
Footsteps faded.
Moments later, Aiden opened the bedroom door.
“They’re gone,” he said.
Isla flew into his arms, the adrenaline catching up to her. “They know about me. They know who I am.”
He held her tightly. “I know.”
She pulled back, staring into his eyes. “Then what happens now?”
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a small black envelope. He held it out to her.
“What is this?” she asked.
“Proof,” he said grimly. “Of everything. Who they are. What they’ve done. It’s why I came back here. I wasn’t just running from them—I was planning to expose them.”
Her hands trembled as she took the envelope.
“You’re going to need to decide, Isla,” Aiden said softly. “If you’re in this… or if you want to run. I won’t blame you.”
She looked up at him, chest heaving.
“I already made my choice, Aiden. The moment I fell for you.”
His shoulders sagged, the fierce mask slipping away, and for a moment, he looked like a man on the edge of breaking.
But she was there.
And she wasn't going anywhere.
- Writer
