Bullet ✔️

Bonus: The kidnapping

Damian's POV

It was so painfully clear that Isabelle had trouble sleeping. She hadn't been doing well ever since her father...even I had trouble with the words. I knew she blamed herself, but it was just as much my fault. If not more.

I hated watching her in pain, but there really wasn't anything to do but let her heal in her own time. I knew, unfortunately, how it felt to lose a parent. She'd lost both, way too soon, and my chest ached just imagining her pain.

I woke up to an empty, but warm, bed. The door was ajar, so I tried to close my eyes again, not letting the sleep go too far away while I waited for my girl to come back. It surprised the hell out of me how much I enjoyed sleeping with her in my arms, and when she wasn't there, I missed it. I missed her.

It didn't take long, thankfully, before she came back and I could pull her close again. Her sweet scent filled my nose and I smiled when she settled against me, with one of my legs draped over hers. This was what I'd always wanted, but never known about. She brought so much more joy and happiness to my life than she could ever imagine.

Isabelle was my whole damn life, and I was sure as hell going to help her give Orlov what he deserved.

She was sleeping when I woke again, finally. I didn't know how long she'd slept, so I was careful not to wake her as I slid out of our bed, and made my way downstairs. Breakfast sounded great. My stomach was already rumbling as I pulled a frying pan out of the cupboard, and tried to rummage through my memory to figure out what she chose to eat at the hotel all those months ago.

I got such a big selection that morning that she had to have chosen what she liked best. It was French toast, wasn't it? So I decided I had to make some for her, and we could enjoy it together in bed before duty called and we had to go back out there to look for the man highest on my kill-list at the moment.

Honestly, he'd been there for a while, but killing Joel was the last straw. I'd already imagined seeing her walk down the aisle, and he was there giving her away willingly. But now, if I ever got my head out of my ass and went for it, she'd walk down alone.

Fuck, I was in it deep—but I didn't really mind. Isabelle made me smile. She made me laugh. She brightened my whole life, damn it. I was going to ask her to walk down that aisle, and vow to be mine. I had to.

I just had to wait for the right moment. I wouldn't be like James and ask her at the wrong time, repeatedly. Though the words had already slipped out once.

"Daydreaming, are you?"

I grabbed the knife nearest me, one I knew could cut through a pretty big steak with no issue, and turned around at the sound of Orlov's voice. I'd been meaning to tighten the security back up, but never got to it. I regretted it as I tried to strangle him with my stare.

"You're brave coming here," I said through my teeth.

"Am I?" He only chuckled. A low, terrible sound that made my ears bleed.

"Guns aren't the only weapon I know how to use." I lifted the knife as I took two long strides over the floor, ending up with the blade against the old man's neck. "As you're about to see," I added.

"I don't think so," Orlov said, not a drop of worry in his voice, "because if I die, my friend upstairs makes sure your girlfriend doesn't wake up."

My blood turned to ice.

"You're lying," I spat.

Orlov smiled, which made my hand tighten around the hilt of my knife. A drop of blood slid down his neck, much because of his throat's movement when he said, "Go look for yourself."