Chapter 7 – The Unseen Enemy
615 Words
The night air outside Marco’s estate was cold enough to bite through the thin silk of Izzy’s blouse, but she welcomed the chill—it kept her thoughts sharp. The moment they’d stepped out of his office in Chapter 6, the atmosphere had shifted. Every guard they passed seemed more alert, their eyes scanning the grounds like something could happen any second.
Marco walked beside her, his phone pressed to his ear, speaking in a low voice that she couldn’t quite catch. She didn’t try to listen in; if he wanted her to know, he’d tell her. Or… he’d tell her what he wanted her to know.
They reached the car, a sleek black Maserati that reflected the moonlight like liquid ink. Marco opened the passenger door without a word. She slid in, trying not to feel like she’d just stepped into a moving cage.
The ride was silent at first, the only sound the soft purr of the engine. Finally, she broke it.
“You’ve been on edge all evening.”
Marco’s jaw flexed, his eyes never leaving the road. “Because there’s a storm coming, Isabella. And I need to make sure we’re not the ones struck by lightning.”
“Cryptic,” she muttered. “You mean someone’s after you?”
He gave a humorless chuckle. “Not just me. Everyone under my roof.”
Her stomach tightened. “Including me?”
“You’re in my house. You’re in my world. That makes you a target whether you like it or not.” His tone was matter-of-fact, but his hand tightened on the steering wheel. “And I don’t leave my targets unprotected.”
They pulled into the city, the glow of streetlamps painting Marco’s face in warm flashes. Izzy recognized the neighborhood instantly—old warehouses by the docks, the kind of place where deals were made in whispers and blood washed into the sea before sunrise.
“What are we doing here?” she asked.
He glanced at her briefly. “I need to meet someone. Stay in the car. No matter what you hear.”
Her instincts screamed that was a bad idea. “And if things go wrong?”
Marco’s lips curved into something between a smirk and a threat. “Then you’ll see why I’m feared.”
He stepped out, his coat swirling in the wind, and headed toward a dimly lit building where a single man stood smoking. Izzy watched as they spoke—calm at first, then sharper, gestures cutting through the cold night air. The man flicked his cigarette away and reached inside his jacket.
Izzy’s breath caught. She knew that move.
Without thinking, she shoved open the car door. Marco turned just as the man’s hand emerged with a pistol, the barrel catching the moonlight.
“Marco!”
Marco spun, grabbing the man’s wrist before the shot could fire. The struggle was quick, brutal—two sharp moves and the gun clattered to the ground. Marco had the man pinned against the wall, his forearm crushing his throat.
Izzy stood frozen for a moment before running toward them. She didn’t get far. A second man appeared from the shadows, stepping directly into her path.
“Well,” the stranger drawled, his voice smooth as oil, “looks like we caught ourselves a little prize.”
Before she could react, Marco’s voice cut through the night—low, deadly, and absolute.
“Touch her, and you don’t leave here alive.”
The second man’s smirk didn’t falter. “Then I suppose we’ll see who’s faster.”
Izzy’s pulse thundered in her ears. And she realized—whatever this was, it was only the beginning.
- Writer
