My Saviour

ISABELLA

The lights inside the club were buzzing with colors, the first thing I hated about this place. People were dancing all over. I rolled my eyes, already feeling overwhelmed.

What's all the fuss about, Is the eclipse aligning with the apocalypse or something?

"Bella, can you go wait for me at the bar? I'm going to meet Michael. I'll meet you in a bit," Ariana said, her voice high-pitched with excitement.

I just nodded, not even in the mood to talk. She'd just broken up with Jordan last week because she saw him with a girl in bed, and now there was a new guy, Michael.

If she had channeled the energy into something better, she might have discovered the cure for cancer.

"There's something different about this one," she'd said. I didn't know where she got the strength to handle all this stress.

Me? I was 19 and had never had a boyfriend. Not that I was lesbian or anything - men were just pieces of shit if you asked me.

I'd rather drool over fictional men than be in an actual relationship.

My dad was the first example of the piece of shit I'd encountered in life. I pushed the thought aside and walked towards the bar, trying to navigate the crowded floor in my heels without falling. I couldn't wait for this night to be over.

I noticed eyes on me - both female and male. I wondered what had caused the stare, and it made me feel self-conscious. I fidgeted with my dress, feeling exposed and uncomfortable under the scrutiny.

I sat on the bar chair, trying to blend in. But the bartender's gaze lingered like he'd never seen a girl in a ridiculously short dress before. "Vodka, please," I ordered, and he quickly snapped back to attention.

I downed drink after drink. Thirty minutes had ticked by, and Ariana was still a no-show. I seethed with rage, If that bitch shows up, I'm going to rip her apart! But for now, I just kept drinking, fueled by frustration.

I'd had way more drinks than intended, but I couldn't just sit there, doing nothing.

I caught someone staring at me. I turned towards the VIP area, and that's when I saw him… Piercing honey-brown eyes locked onto mine, their intensity making my heart skip a beat. The moment he realized I'd caught him staring, a sly smile spread across his face, and he winked at me with an air of confidence. I felt chills run down my spine, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, I turned back to my drink, feigning indifference as I struggled to calm the flutter in my chest.

This was uncharted territory for me. I'd never experienced such a jolt of electricity from a single glance.

I tried to brush it off, attributing the strange sensation to the alcohol coursing through my veins. 'It's just the drink,' I told myself.

It's certainly the drink.

I was pretty intoxicated from drinking too much, but I couldn't just sit there and do nothing.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mr. Honey Brown Eyes stood up, and I found myself holding my breath. Please don't let him come over here, I silently pleaded. But my hope was short-lived.

The deep, rich voice that belonged to those piercing honey-brown eyes filled my ears. “May I have a seat?”

I deliberately avoided eye contact, trying to appear nonchalant despite the turmoil brewing inside me.

“We're at a bar, mister sir,” I replied, my voice sharper than I'd intended, but I didn't bother to soften it. “Seeking permission to sit isn't exactly necessary.”

I thought my blunt response would send him packing, but instead, he slid into the seat beside me, a small, knowing smile playing on the corner of his deep, inviting red lips.

"I was just being a gentleman," he murmured as he ordered a drink from the bartender.

With him sitting closer, I couldn't help but take in the details. His black tee seemed to be stretched to its limits, showcasing the chiseled muscles beneath.

A sleeve tattoo adorned his left arm, adding an edgy touch to his polished appearance. His short, jet-black hair was styled perfectly, every strand in its precise place, framing his chiseled features and those piercing honey-brown eyes that seemed to hold me captive.

There was an unmistakable aura of sophistication surrounding him.

"I think it's better you say hi than to keep checking me out," he dragged the shots he'd just ordered closer to himself.

I muttered a curse under my breath, annoyed that I'd been caught ogling him.

"Checking you out?" I repeated, feigning innocence. "I wasn't," I said, tucking a strand of my blonde hair behind my ears, trying to appear nonchalant even though I had been sneaking glances at him.

"You know I wouldn't dare ignore you if you had," he flashed his perfect white teeth at me in a charming smile.

"Okay, but I didn't," I replied, wishing Ariana would hurry up and rescue me from this awkward conversation.

His gaze drifted down to my thighs, exposed in the short dress, before snapping back up to my face.

"New in this city?" his eyes were locked on mine, searching for a response.

I didn't want to engage with him, but something about his tone put me at ease. I decided to make an effort, if only for a moment. "No," I replied, my gaze drifting to the bar counter, avoiding eye contact with him.

"I would be honored if a sexy chic like you could tour me around," his smooth tone and charming smile made it clear he was used to getting what he wanted. His expensive scent and designer clothes screamed wealth, and I could tell he was the type of guy who was used to being a "good catch."

But I wasn't interested. "Maybe you could get help somewhere else," I tried to make my tone polite, but it came out rather harsh. “There are a lot of pretty chic around as well.”

He smiled intrigued by my response. "I'm not going to bite, pretty," another sly smile spread across his face as he leaned in closer, his voice flirtatious.

But I wasn't having it.

I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes and glanced up, my gaze inadvertently meeting his plump red lips. I felt a sudden jolt, but quickly shook it off. Get a hold of yourself, Isabella, I warned myself. He's trouble, and he looks like the kind of guy who leaves heartbreak in his wake.

Not now, not ever.

"I'll see you later," I said, excusing myself and turning to leave.

"I didn't even get your name!" he yelled over the music.

"I won't tell," I shot back, walking away without looking back. But I could feel his piercing eyes following me, their gaze burning into my skin like a slow caress.

"What about I call you mi Tesoro?" he yelled, but I didn't act like I had heard what he said. I secretly liked the name, though.

I made my way to the lavatory, relieved to escape the loud music. As I walked, I heard a low, menacing hiss: "Ssssss." I turned to see a hulking figure emerging from the shadows.

He was looking at me, I felt a shiver run down my spine. I quickened my pace, but he followed, his eyes fixed on me.

"fella, I'm referring to ya," he sneered.

I spun around, my tone rough. "What do you want?"

He leered at me, his eyes crawling over my body. "I want you in between my legs."

The audacity! I thought, disgusted. I ignored him and turned to walk away, but he grabbed my arm, his grip like a vice.

I struggled to break free, but he was way stronger than me. Panic set in as I realized I was trapped.

"Let go of me!" I shouted, but my voice was drowned out by the thumping music.

The man's disgusting lips were inches from mine, his breath reeking of alcohol. "You're so sexy, let's have fun," he slurred.

Just as all hope seemed lost, someone yanked him away, pummeling him with punches.