the planned robbery
771 Words
The sound of sirens filled the street.
Isabella stood outside the café, watching the police take away the attackers. Her expression remained calm, but her eyes were colder than before.
Something wasn't right.
A random robbery was one thing.
But the way that man looked at her...
It wasn't fear.
It was recognition.
"Are you always this reckless?"
Ethan's voice pulled her attention back.
She turned.
He stood beside his car, his suit perfectly arranged as if he hadn't just fought three armed men.
"I saved a child."
"You almost got yourself killed."
"But I didn't."
His jaw tightened.
"You think surviving makes you invincible?"
Isabella crossed her arms.
"And you think controlling every situation makes you powerful?"
For a moment, Ethan said nothing.
Most people lowered their heads when they spoke to him.
Isabella challenged him like they were equals.
It was irritating.
And strangely interesting.
"You have a habit of making problems for yourself."
"And you have a habit of thinking everyone needs your permission to live."
His eyes narrowed.
"Careful, Isabella."
She smiled slightly.
"Was that a warning?"
"No."
He stepped closer.
"It was advice."
Before she could respond, her phone rang.
The name on the screen made her expression change.
Samantha.
Her stepsister.
She answered.
"What do you want?"
A sweet voice came from the other side.
"Isabella, where are you? Father has been worried."
A cold laugh almost escaped her lips.
"Worried?"
"Of course. We are family."
Family.
The word felt like a joke.
The same family that smiled at her while secretly waiting for her to disappear.
"I'll come home when I want."
The call ended.
Ethan watched her carefully.
"You don't get along with your family."
"That's none of your business."
"You're about to become my wife. Everything connected to you becomes my business."
She looked at him.
There it was.
Not concern.
Not affection.
Ownership.
Ethan Blackwood didn't ask.
He decided.
"I hope you remember one thing, Isabella."
"What?"
"This marriage is an agreement."
Her expression didn't change.
"Don't worry. I wasn't planning a love story."
That answer surprised him.
Most women wanted his attention.
His money.
His name.
But Isabella looked like she would walk away from all of it without hesitation.
...
Later that evening.
The Sinclair mansion was silent.
Too silent.
Isabella entered the house and immediately noticed something strange.
The lights were dim.
No servants.
No guards.
She slowly removed her coat.
"Samantha?"
No answer.
She walked upstairs.
A noise came from the hallway.
She stopped.
Then suddenly—
Someone grabbed her from behind.
Isabella reacted quickly, hitting the person's arm and breaking free.
The man cursed.
"You little—"
Before he could finish, she kicked him back.
But there were more.
Two.
Three.
Her eyes hardened.
"So this is how you welcome your family?"
A slow clap came from the top of the stairs.
Samantha appeared.
Beautiful.
Elegant.
And completely fake.
"Still fighting, Isabella?"
Isabella stared at her.
"You sent them."
Samantha smiled.
"You always were clever."
"Why?"
Samantha walked down slowly.
"Because you have something that belongs to me."
"The company?"
"Don't pretend you don't know."
Her smile disappeared.
"Grandmother should have left everything to my mother. Not you."
Isabella laughed bitterly.
"So that's what this was about?"
"The shares."
"The inheritance."
"Everything."
Samantha's eyes turned dark.
"You have no idea how annoying it is watching everyone treat you like you're special because of something you didn't even earn."
Isabella stepped closer.
"You think I wanted any of this?"
"You think I care?"
Samantha whispered.
"I need those shares."
"And if I don't give them?"
Samantha smiled.
"Then you won't be alive long enough to refuse."
Suddenly—
The mansion doors opened.
Everyone froze.
Ethan walked inside.
His expression was terrifyingly calm.
Behind him stood his security team.
"What exactly is happening here?"
Samantha's face changed.
"Ethan..."
He ignored her.
His eyes moved to Isabella.
For the first time, he noticed the bruises on her arm.
Something cold flashed in his eyes.
Not love.
Not yet.
But anger.
Someone had touched what belonged to him.
"Who did this?"
Nobody answered.
Ethan loosened his cufflinks.
"Fine."
His voice dropped.
"I'll find out myself."
He looked at Isabella.
"You are coming with me."
She raised an eyebrow.
"You don't give me orders."
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"There it is again."
"What?"
"That attitude."
He stepped closer.
"One day, Isabella, it will get you into serious trouble."
She looked directly into his eyes.
"Maybe."
A pause.
"Or maybe it will save me."
For some reason, Ethan couldn't look away.
And that annoyed him more than anything.
- Writer
