When Two Guns Meet

Isa refused to leave the bathroom. She sat inside the bathtub with her knees folded and her face submerged in the warm water. Her heartbeat refused to settle. It throbbed like a trapped animal banging on its cage. Pressure crawled over her chest and refused to let go. She hated this feeling, hated how it wrapped around her like a chain. She hated even more that it involved her mother because Viktor knew exactly where her weakness lived. He always did.

Elena’s voice echoed from somewhere inside the room.

“Isa, come downstairs. Breakfast is ready.”

The words broke through Isa’s thoughts like a stone tossed into still water. Slowly, she lifted her face from the bathtub. Droplets streamed down her cheeks and chin. She grabbed a towel and pressed it firmly against her face. Her body moved on its own, barely responsive, drained from everything she had endured the night before.

Once she dressed, she stepped out of the room and slowly descended the staircase. Her gaze traveled everywhere. The house glittered with gold, marble, polished wood, and spotless surfaces. Every corner screamed wealth and power. Every detail whispered that she did not belong here.

A butler approached her and gestured politely.

“Please follow me, Miss Isabella.”

He led her through a long corridor decorated with paintings in large ornate frames, each one lit by soft white lights that made the hall feel like a private museum. Eventually he guided her into a massive dining hall. A long table stretched across the room like a runway, surrounded by carved chairs that looked both expensive and uncomfortable.

The butler added in a calm tone,

“He enjoys hosting parties. The dining hall was designed according to his specification. He also requested that breakfast be served here today.”

Isa nodded even though she had not asked for any explanation. The butler moved behind her chair to pull it out, but Isa stopped him with a quick gesture.

“I can do this myself. It is fine.”

She pulled the chair and sat, waiting. Elena had called her downstairs but was nowhere to be seen, which annoyed Isa more than she cared to admit.

Minutes passed before Elena hurried into the hall.

“I am so sorry honey, I was so busy. You know we are leaving for our honeymoon today and”

Isa cut her off sharply.

“Mom, I am not interested in knowing what you will be doing during your honeymoon.”

Elena forced an awkward laugh then rushed upstairs. When she returned, a man walked beside her. The moment Isa locked eyes with him, her entire body stopped. Her grip loosened on her phone and she nearly dropped it. Her stomach twisted and her breath vanished.

The man smiled warmly.

“You must be Isabella. Your mother told me all about you.”

His voice was deep and coarse, carrying the weight of authority that forced attention. Isa blinked twice and still could not believe what she was seeing.

She turned slowly to Elena, her voice cracking.

“He is my new stepfather…”

Elena nodded with a small apologetic smile.

“Yes, he is. I should have told you earlier but you were never interested in my love life.”

Isa swallowed hard. Elena was right. She never cared about the parade of men in her mother’s life, especially after the divorce from her second ex husband that had sunk Elena into a depression so heavy Isa dropped out of high school to take care of her. Love and men became distant things she wanted nothing to do with.

But this man in front of her was not just anyone.

It was Senator Robert Carver.

Viktor hated this man. Truly hated him.

Now this man was her stepfather.

Worse still, Viktor wanted his son dead.

Which meant the target she had been ordered to kill was now her stepbrother.

“Just end my life already,” Isa whispered without thinking.

Elena and Robert burst into laughter like she had said something adorable. Isa stared at both of them, unable to feel anything except rising dread. Robert placed a comforting hand on the table.

“I know this must be a shock to you, Isabella. But I hope we can all become one family. I would like that very much.”

“I hope so too,” Isa whispered, though guilt crawled up inside her like smoke.

She repeated silently to herself,

“You should not feel guilty. You had no choice.”

Her hand tightened around the cutlery, knuckles white.

A rushing sound of footsteps entered the hall. The butler appeared with a worried expression.

“Master, the young master has not returned home since yesterday. I tried to reach him but he has not responded.”

Robert’s smile faded instantly. Isa observed quietly. They did not look like a family with an emotional bond. Robert’s worry seemed mixed with another emotion she could not read.

Isa did not care about their family relationships. She only cared about one thing.

The son.

Her target.

She pulled out her phone and opened the photo Viktor had sent her. She zoomed in and studied the face carefully. Black hair. Green eyes. Sharp jawline. A nose that was straight but slightly crooked near the bridge. Medium thin lips. A face that carried a strange familiarity.

Alexander Carver.

She murmured the name softly.

Her eyes narrowed at the green color in the photo.

“Why do they always have green eyes,” she muttered in annoyance.

Elena suddenly leaned forward.

“Young lady, no phone while eating.”

Isa dropped the phone and fixed her gaze on her plate. Anything to avoid Robert’s eyes. She slowly picked up her fork and began to eat.

Robert told the butler sharply,

“Tell him to return home. It is time he meets his new family.”

“Yes Master,” the butler said and hurried out.

Silence returned to the table. Isa finished her meal, pushed her chair back and left without saying anything.

“What is wrong with her,” Robert asked Elena as Isa walked away.

Elena chuckled.

“Do not worry love. Isa is just Isa. She will adjust once she has no other option.”

Isa rolled her eyes while walking down the corridor. She had heard that line her whole life. She doubted she would ever adjust. She only wanted one thing at the moment.

To know when Alexander Carver would come home.

According to the information she had gathered before, Alexander was known for being rebellious, dangerous and cold. He did not associate with his father. He never appeared in political scenes. No one even believed he and Robert were related because of how different they were.

Isa continued exploring the mansion with careful steps. The long halls, delicate decorations and wide open spaces were a reminder of a world she never thought she would enter. She imagined what it would feel like to have this kind of wealth for real, not as a temporary guest but as someone who earned it.

A soft sound behind her snapped her from her thoughts.

It was small, almost like a shift in the air.

Isa immediately slipped her hand into her pocket and touched the gun. Her senses sharpened. She did not turn around. She waited.

Then a scent drifted toward her. Something masculine. Cedarwood and spice. Strong. Distinct. It curled into her chest and tightened her lungs.

A deep voice spoke behind her.

“Who are you.”

His tone held no curiosity. It held threat. Heavy and cold. It slid across her skin like a blade. The hairs on her arms rose as the warning inside the voice settled into her bones.

Isa did not answer. Her fingers curled around the trigger of her gun. Heat pooled in her chest, not fear but readiness.

The voice roared again.

“I am talking to you.”

Something cold pressed against the back of her head. Metal. A gun.

The pressure of danger became almost comforting. Isa felt a slow smile spread over her lips. Her instincts took over. She spun around, fast and controlled, and pressed her gun firmly against the center of his forehead.

Everything after that shifted like a storm about to break.

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