Chapter 2 (Strangers)
Released chapters is in the novel part of the book. Read the novel for more.
“Who are you?”
A gun pressed hard against her back. Isa froze. Whoever it was must have thought she was an intruder. In a place like this, she couldn’t blame them. Anyone would.
“I asked you a question, miss. Turn around.”
She obeyed slowly, hands lifted in surrender. The music in the hall still played, blending with the hum of conversation and laughter. The officer in uniform glared at her, scanning from head to toe with suspicion.
“I’m a guest too, officer. No need to get so tense,” she said, smirking slightly.
The smirk didn’t help. His hand stayed on the gun at his side.
“Since you’re a guest, where’s your invitation card?”
Isa blinked. Her fingers slipped into her pockets, searching. Empty. Her heart sank. The invitation her mother had given her—she had left it at home. She never even looked at it properly.
She tried to hide her nervousness with a smile. “I think I might have misplaced it.”
“I’m sorry then. You’ll have to leave.”
He grabbed her arm roughly and started pulling her through the crowd. People turned to look, whispers spreading like wildfire. Isa struggled to free herself, twisting and pulling with all the skill she had, but the man was stronger.
“Wait, what’s going on?”
The voice stopped everyone. Isa’s breath caught. It was her mother.
Elena stood there, radiant in a white wedding gown, her hair curled perfectly, her face glowing. Isa had never seen her mother this beautiful. For a moment, it didn’t feel real.
The officer released her immediately and stood upright. “I’m sorry, ma’am. She said she’s a guest, but she has no invitation.”
Elena’s smile faltered. She took Isa’s hand gently and turned her toward the man standing beside her. “I want you to meet him with your own eyes, Isa. He’s your new stepfather.”
Isa’s expression hardened. She had heard those words too many times before. Another stepfather. Another man who would eventually ruin her mother.
Elena had been through four of them already. The last one turned her into an addict in the name of love and left her broke. Isa was the one who got her into rehab. Isa was the one who paid their rent, who kept them alive when everyone else disappeared.
And she had made her mother promise never to go back to that life again.
“Mom, you don’t need to tell me who he is,” Isa said coldly. “As long as he treats you right this time, I don’t care.”
She turned and walked out, ignoring Elena’s calls.
The ride home was silent. Isa needed to breathe, to wash the night off her skin. But when she arrived, something felt wrong.
A strange car sat in their driveway. Sleek, black, expensive. Nothing her landlord could afford.
Her stomach tightened.
She pressed her lips together and walked to the porch. The air felt unfamiliar, heavy, almost hostile. Something was off.
Still, she unlocked the door and stepped inside. The moment she did, her chest tightened even more.
The walls weren’t the same. The wallpaper had been changed to a soft pastel shade that made her dizzy. Their family photo was gone, replaced by a painting of a plant. The house looked… staged.
Isa pulled out her phone and texted Elena.
Mom, what’s with the house? Did you change the decor overnight or something?
No reply.
She pocketed the phone and went to the kitchen. The air carried a scent that didn’t belong to her or her mother. Someone else had been here.
“Damn it,” she muttered.
Then she heard it—music. Faint, coming from upstairs.
Her pulse quickened.
Isa grabbed the gun she always carried and climbed the stairs quietly, her boots pressing softly against the wooden steps. Whoever was in her house had chosen the wrong place.
As she reached the top, the music grew louder. She turned toward the door at the end of the hall and pushed it open.
Inside were four guys and a girl, laughing, drinking, and dancing. Bottles littered the table.
Rage surged through her.
She stepped in and raised the gun. “Who the hell are you people?”
The room fell silent. Then one of them snorted. He poured himself a drink, walked up to her, and held out a cup. “Take this, princess. You look tense. You’re getting wrinkles already.”
They all burst out laughing.
“You can’t just break into my house and act like idiots,” Isa snapped, her grip tightening on the gun.
The laughter grew louder. One of them shoved the girl aside and stepped forward. “Is this chick serious?”
Another moved closer and slapped the gun out of her hand. It hit the floor with a dull thud.
Isa froze in disbelief.
The guy sneered. “Who sent you here? You high on something?”
Her cheeks burned. Never in her life had anyone disrespected her like this. She clenched her fists. This was her home. They were in her territory.
“Get out,” she hissed.
“Old bitch,” one of them muttered.
Before she could react, he pushed her hard. She hit the floor, pain shooting through her arm as a sharp edge scraped her skin. Laughter filled the room again.
They poured their drinks on her, one after another, like it was a game. Isa gritted her teeth.
“You have no idea who you’re messing with,” she said darkly.
One stepped on her back, pressing her down. “You can’t just walk into our friend’s house and claim it’s yours. We’re not nice people.”
Her voice came out cold. “Who’s your friend?”
He pressed harder on her spine, his voice close to her ear. “You don’t want to know. Because once you do, you’ll beg for mercy.”
Isa let out a low laugh that made them all pause.
Another one kicked her stomach, making her curl up and gasp. “What’s so funny?”
Today couldn’t get any worse. Her target had been killed by someone else. Her mother was married again. And now strangers were humiliating her in her own house.
“You should leave,” she warned.
They ignored her. One of them grinned. “Since Raven D isn’t here yet, let’s entertain ourselves with her first.”
Isa laughed again, low and dangerous. They thought she was bluffing. They had no idea who she really was.
One pulled her up roughly by the chin. “This isn’t your house, bitch.”
Another slapped her across the face. “Never come here again.”
The one who had her gun examined it, pointing it toward her playfully.
“Careful,” Isa said. “You’ll regret that.”
He smirked. “What will you do? Shoot me with your toy?”
“I’m not scared,” she whispered. “You should be.”
He laughed and pressed the gun against her forehead. “Let’s see.”
Isa didn’t flinch. She stared straight into his eyes. His finger hovered over the trigger.
Then everything changed.
A tall figure stepped through the doorway, silent and composed. Dressed in black. Helmet in one hand. Mask covering half his face. His eyes, green like emeralds, locked on her. A scar ran down his nose, sharp and defined.
His voice cut through the room like a blade. “What’s going on here?”
The boys froze.
“She came in saying this was her house,” one of them stammered.
The man stepped closer to Isa, his gloved hand lifting her chin. His touch was rough yet strangely careful.
“Is this your house?” he asked.
Isa nodded.
He studied her for a moment. “Then I’m sorry, darling. You must have misunderstood. I bought this house from the previous owner this morning.”
Her breath caught.
Previous owner.
Her chest tightened as realization hit her.
Her mother had sold the house.
Without telling her.
