Devour You

56

Victoria

Stepping out of the draining bath, I take my time drying the drips of water on my smooth skin by the towel in hand, before wrapping it around my clean body.

Combing my fingers through my wet brown hair, I pull open the bathroom door to get to my dresser in the bedroom. I take in a breath when I prepare to pull open the top drawer of my dresser.

"Hey Rio that bath you suggested really helped..." I shout from upstairs, when my brown eyes scan across the pairs of my clean underwear. "I feel so much better!" I add aloud, while a small grin tugs at my lips.

Wrapped in my fluffy white towel, I take out a pair of red laced panties, holding them up to align with my mischievous gaze. Thinking to myself that my fiancé would love me in these tonight, I smirk and take them into my firm grasp, shutting the dresser drawer.

I spin around on my bare heels, gathering nothing in return but silence from Rio. The mischievous grin still plays about on my pink lips. "Rio?" I call out, beginning in my steps towards the bedroom door.

As I near it, I heard something faint and low, but can't really tell what it was from up here. My brows furrow, as I leave my room to walk up to the staircase. "Are you starting on dinner?" I ask curiously, my voice hinting an intrigued tone while I listen for his voice.

Hopping down the stairs, I come to a quick halt when I realize the sight amongst me. My uncovered shoulders tense, as a sharp breath of shock is sucked in. I grasp onto the top of my white towel, my brown eyes meeting Rio's...

...And the man who currently stands behind him, with a silver pistol in his hands. The man's dark brown irises are glimmering, once they settle on mine. He immediately vestures a satisfied grin.

Isaiah.

"What are you doing here?!" I question, my voice merely cracked as my breath begins to pick up it's pace again - exceeding by the second.

I lift a hand in a surrendering manner, as the other holds my towel tight against my undressed figure. Luckily for my sake, I picked the longest bath towel after my bath; the thick cloth ending just above my quivering knees as I stand in the middle of the stairs.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" He spits at me, his all too familiar dark eyes blazing. All I gather behind them is pestilence. It makes the tiny hairs on my arms prickle up.

"P- put the gun down." I stammer, watching Rio's tense frame not dare to move a muscle, in his white t-shirt and dark jeans, in front of Isaiah's gun. The two tall distinct figures are facing me.

All I earn from Isaiah is a cold and cryptic chuckle - it echoes down the first story of the house. From it, I feel my stomach plummet.

A mere skip in my exceeding heartbeat occurs, and I'm unsure why. Maybe it's because a part of me figured he would at least lower the gun at my request - like the last time - but he doesn't.

Instead, Isaiah keeps his lethal gaze on me while he aims his weapon at the back of my fiancé's head - the scene of such a position sending chills down my spine. I don't know what to say, or do.

I'm just... petrified.

But, I've never been afraid of Isaiah, so why am I now? Why do I all of a sudden feel like he obtains this merciless power to yank my pounding heart, brutally, from out of my chest?

"P- please... just put the gun-" A sudden gunshot booms across the perimeter, and I nearly jump out of my cold skin. All those puny hairs on my body stand up. And my heart won't stop hammering, dangerously, as I watch Rio fall to the floor.