BLOOD AND DEVOTION

Chapter 3:

ISABELLA:

I hated colours, I hated anything bright or abstract or wild that's why my entire wardrobe is filled with black. I stare at myself in the mirror for the upteenth time deliberating whether I should wear this gown or not because I know my mother would take my life if I showed up in trousers and a shirt.

The gown wasn't bad, it was a skin tight lace gown that had a slit that went up to my thigh and had a really low back showing my back tattoo. I put my hair in a sleeck bun and pair the outfit with some Louis Vuitton heels and a small purse that can hold a knife that's the only accessory I need. I don't dress up and wear heels as much as I should but that doesn't stop me from having the latest designs.

“You look…breathtaking” I hear Cara as I slowly walk down the stairs.

“No look at you. You look like a princess” I tease her and laugh. We were polar opposites since birth, she's a bright, colorful, cheerful, has a successful career as an artist and nothing with the drug world but me? dark, brooding always and I hate people.

“Who knew you could walk in heels” Cara laughs and carries her bag from the chair.

“Haha, you know mum basically taught us how to walk in heels before we could even walk” I sigh, “Miguel would be here any minute now”.

“You two still pretending like you're not in love with one another?” she smiles sheepishly.

“No Cara, we're not in love we're working partners” I grunt, “you know this I've told you a million times”.

“Mhmm mhmm okay okay” she smiles, “he loves you though, I should know I love him. Have you seen that man? Boyyyy is he fine”.

I laugh heartily, “God Cara”.

“Gossiping about me..again?” We both turn to see Miguel.

“She was” Cara points at me, “I'll never gossip you handsome” she winks and enters the elevator.

I smile a little, “how is the arm?”

He looks subtly at his arm, “never been better” he smiles.

I walk to the elevator “Come on, we'll be late”.

*************

My mother ran multiple non profit organizations that ended up making millions and she'll decide to give back to the society again and the cycle continues. I wasn't close to my mother, I didn't understand anything she did or her reasons behind them, Cara did, they saw life differently than me and my father and that was fine. I walked round the gala quietly, nodding to a few people, avoiding my mother at all cost. I wasn't a heavy drinker, hell I barely drank hence me holding the same drink since the beginning of the event. I look around and try to understand where the uneasiness that's filling my head is coming from, I stand at the bar and I feel a stare burning at the back of my head.

I didn't want to acknowledge whoever it was but I knew if the person finally stepped out in the light I wouldn't hesitate to gut the fucker.

I clutch my purse again and sip my drink a little still looking for who's staring at me, “refill?” I hear the bartender say from behind me.

I turn, “I'm good thanks” I give a tight smile.

“You've been holding the same drink since you got here” I hear a deep voice behind me and I open my purse quietly to bring out my knife.

I turn around and I'm met with the bluest eyes I've ever seen, tall, in his well tailored suit that fit him perfectly and he engulfed the whole space, it felt like it was me and him in the whole event and I looked so small in front of him, the height difference was really loud. I close my purse and sip my drink again staring into his eyes, “stalking me?”

He laughs a little, “My apologies, you just…well you're kind of the centre of attraction right now so”he says as he puts both hands in his pocket.

I subtly look around and scoff in irritation, “centre of attraction?”

“Have you seen yourself?” He chuckles a little, “you have no idea”.

I take a deeper look at him and notice his tattoo peeking out from his neck, “American?”

“Half American, half Spanish” he stretches out his hand to me, “Mucho gusto soy Justin Warren”.

I look at his hand and my eyes go back to his face and his bad Spanish accent makes me irritated even more. I sip my drink again, “Disfruta la fiesta” I give a tight smile and walk away.

Enjoy the party.

I go to the restroom and see Cara giggling with one of the men by the door. I shake my head and walk past them and enter the restroom.

I stand in front of the mirror to retouch my makeup and adjust my hair, when I feel a presence behind me, I bring out my knife.

“Here” a letter is dropped beside me but before I could react the presence disappears. I open the letter and just three words, bold, in all caps and written with blood.

“I’M COMING ISA” my heart drops.