Our Mission

Chapter 7

- Violet's POV -

I join Darelle on the couch and I notice a expression of distress coating his face. It looked as he hasn't slept since last night.

I groan, throwing back my head onto the cushion and wipe my tired face with my hands. Last night, I can't even make out details on what happened.

"She is not here," Darelle notes.

My stomach turns, sickening me and my body swarm with jitters of guilt.

I turn to him, "what do you mean she isn't here?"

"I was able to track her phone, she's at Lorenzo."

My eyebrows sew together as I bite my nails to keep my demeanor calm. I known Isabella for enough time to know she did not go willingly.

"Have either of you made any sorts of contact?" I ask.

"Well, yes," He hands me the phone, "she seems to be fine."

Fine? Is she insane? She is in a house full of murderers.

I scroll though the messages, analyzing her short texts for any secret codes. But there's aren't any, she is going on about how this is possibly a great idea.

"Have you checked the cameras?" I throw the phone next to him and grab the opened laptop.

I punch in a variety of codes. Each time, bold red letters reading Declined Access, continue to appear.
I pull my hair until it hurts, could things get any worse?

Darelle speaks despite my frustration, "I believe Isabella is fine," he takes a breath, "and the circumstances she gotten herself into, is a success," he finished, seeming even more stunned than me.

I stand up from my seating position. I can't help myself from pacing around the large coffee table but I could no longer sit in place. This was my fault. If I had just stayed with her and remained sober everything would've gone great.

"And how are you sure this is good news?"

"The goal of this mission is to have Lorenzo fall in love Isabella so she can gain information out him," He rises, fixing the end of his fitted tee, "they'll be in each other's way for enough time that he gains feelings."

I stand and listen to their plan. I kept my negative thoughts shut and viewed the potential of all this.

I known Isabella to be smart, strong, and incredibly breathtaking. I took notice how we struggled to get any time, mainly alone time with Lorenzo which has delayed our entire process.

I've seen Isabella wrap dozen of men around her fingers and successfully accomplish her tasks. Isabella earned a great amount of my trust, I can not doubt her abilities.

"We can't sit here and do nothing," I tell him, finally accepting what is happening.

"Of course not."

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