The Form Of An Angel

Isabella POV

I joined the stream of pedestrians crossing the busy street, my eyes lifting to the skyscraper looming ahead—the same building where my dad works for Justin Martínez.

The company had been built on Justin’s name and reputation after his father’s tragic passing.

My sister Jean always dreamed of modeling for their campaigns, but she never got the chance.

Today, though, I was here for my dad, who had—once again—forgotten his lunch at home. It had fallen to me, as it often did, to bring it to him.

Jean was off somewhere with her boyfriend, leaving me to be the “responsible daughter” once more.

After everything that happened a few days ago, all I wanted was a moment to breathe—or maybe to cry, if I could even find the tears.

I felt stuck with consequences I didn’t deserve.

My dad tried to reassure me, telling me not to think negatively about the marriage.

But how could I not?

For all I knew, the man I was supposed to marry could be a criminal, a psychopath—or worse—Justin Martínez himself.

Not that it made sense.

Why would someone like him marry me? He was in charge of the wedding, sure, but I couldn’t imagine his reasons.

And yet, here I was, agreeing to something I didn’t want, just to save my family from losing everything.

Taking a steadying breath, I stepped into the building’s lobby, pulling out my phone to let Dad know I’d arrived.

He picked up after a few rings.

"Dad, I’m in the lobby with your lunch." I said, glancing around at the polished interior.

"I’ll be right down." He replied, before hanging up.

As I waited, I took in the surroundings, my gaze drifting over the pristine marble floors and bustling workers moving in every direction.

But then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted someone all too familiar.

Justin Martínez.

He walked through the lobby alongside his assistant, Noah—the same Noah who’d come to our house with the marriage contract.

Justin looked even more striking in person, which was irritating in itself. His jet-black hair was styled perfectly, a clean drop fade framing his angular features.

His dark brown eyes carried a quiet intensity and his cheekbones and sharp jawline made him look like he belonged in some glossy magazine.

He wore a black shirt beneath his tailored suit, the top two buttons casually undone. He was tall and broad-shouldered.

He looked effortlessly commanding, as if the entire room adjusted itself to his presence.

I rolled my eyes and let out a quiet groan, hoping to stay unnoticed. But before I could step out of view, a crowd erupted.

A flood of reporters and camera crews surged into the lobby, swarming toward him.

Security guards quickly moved in, forming a protective barrier as Justin and Noah continued their path toward the exit.

Caught in the chaos, I tried to navigate my way out of the crowd, but it was no use.

Someone jostled me from the side and before I knew it, I collided with something—or rather, someone.

"What the—" The words left my mouth before I could stop them, but they caught in my throat when I looked up.

Justin Martínez.

I stared, momentarily frozen. Up close, he was even more intimidating. Taller, sharper, somehow more…present.

At first, he didn’t seem to notice me, his focus locked on the crowd still unfolding around us. But then, slowly, his gaze shifted and his eyes met mine.

There was a flicker of something in his expression—curiosity? Amusement?

Whatever it was, it lasted only a moment before his face returned to its unreadable, stoic mask.

"Are you blind?" He asked, his voice deep and smooth, a touch of amusement lacing his words.

I tilted my head, narrowing my eyes.

"Funny. I was about to ask you the same thing." I retorted, stepping around him.

A low chuckle escaped his lips as his gaze followed me.

"You’ve got a pretty sharp tongue, don’t you?" He said, the smirk playing on his lips almost infuriating.

I glanced over my shoulder, unable to stop the sly grin that tugged at my lips.

"Are you stalking me now?" I challenged, meeting his eyes head-on.

He spread his arms with a casual grace, glancing around.

"Darling, you’re standing on my property. What do you expect?" His cologne lingered in the air between us—subtle, but intoxicating.

I opened my mouth to respond, but the moment shattered when a security guard grabbed my arm out of nowhere.

Startled, I flinched and turned to glare at him.

Justin’s smirk disappeared, replaced by a sharp, commanding tone.

"Leave her alone. Let’s move." He snapped his fingers without even breaking stride.

The guard immediately released me and I stood there, fuming.

By the time I turned back, Justin was already walking away.

As the chaos of reporters and camera crews began to dissipate, I noticed the lobby returning to its usual calm.

That’s when I spotted my dad approaching with a warm smile.

"Here," I said, handing him the lunch bag.

He took it with a grateful nod. "Thanks, honey. And I’m sorry for putting you through all of this. I know it’s a lot."

I said nothing, my throat tightening as I held back everything I wanted to say.

He sighed, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

"I’ll be home late tonight. Some extra work downtown. Take care, okay?" With that, he headed toward the elevators, leaving me standing there, lost in my thoughts.

Deciding not to linger, I walked out of the building and headed for the bus stop a few blocks down.

It was empty when I arrived, so I leaned against the bench, letting my thoughts wander.

Moments later, the hum of a motorcycle broke the quiet. I glanced up to see a man pulling up in front of me, his face bare without a helmet.

"Need a ride, beautiful?" He asked, his tone casual but his gaze lingering longer than it should.

I shook my head politely. "I think I’ll pass, thanks."

"Suit yourself." He said with a shrug, though he didn’t leave. His eyes traveled over me, making my skin crawl.

"You sure?" He pressed. "Buses don’t run this route too often. Might be waiting a while."

I looked down the road, then back at him.

"I’ll wait for a cab." I said firmly, hoping he’d take the hint.

But before he could push further, a familiar voice cut through the air.

"You heard the lady." It said, low and firm.

I turned sharply, my heart skipping a beat as I spotted Justin standing just a few feet away.

He was flanked by the three bodyguards from earlier, his dark eyes fixed on the man.

The guy on the motorcycle straightened in his seat, eyes widening slightly. "You’re Justin Martínez, right?"

Justin didn’t even flinch.

"Depends who’s asking," He said flatly, stepping closer. "But she’s with me. So get your piece of junk out of here."

The man stammered an apology, clearly thrown off by Justin’s presence. He revved his engine and sped off without another word.

I turned to Justin, my arms crossing over my chest.

"So, you are stalking me." I smirked, raising an eyebrow, but his expression didn’t change.

"You’re impossible to ignore," He said evenly, his tone both exasperated and teasing. "I’ll drive you home."

"But I never asked you to..." I said, confused as I stared at him.

"And I never offered." He countered smoothly, his voice carrying an air of finality.

Without waiting for my permission, he gently but firmly took hold of my arm and began leading me toward a sleek black car parked at the curb.

"How am I supposed to trust you?" I scoffed, trying to match his audacity with my own defiance.

He chuckled bitterly, as if my skepticism amused him.

"Everyone knows me, darling." He replied, his arrogance as unshakable as the confident smirk on his face.

As we reached the car, I spotted Noah standing by the passenger door, watching us. He looked far too amused for someone who seemed to be facilitating a kidnapping—or whatever this was.

Noah opened the back door, gesturing for me to get in.

I glanced between the two of them, weighing my options, before deciding to go along with this... I needed answers, especially about this so-called contract.

Sliding into the back seat, I settled as far from Justin as the space would allow, but it did little to lessen the overwhelming presence he exuded as he climbed in beside me.

Noah took his place in the front passenger seat, leaving me with the uncomfortable realization that there was no easy escape now.

The car started moving, it's quiet engine almost soothing if not for the tension swirling in the confined space.

Justin pulled out his phone, his attention instantly glued to it, making it clear he had no intention of engaging in conversation.

"Don’t I deserve to know who this so-called groom is—the one behind this ridiculous contract?" I finally said, breaking the silence.

My gaze flickered to Noah in the front seat, hoping for answers.

Noah cleared his throat, looking as if he’d rather be anywhere else.

Before he could respond, Justin’s dark eyes briefly met mine, cold and indifferent, before he returned to his phone without a word.

"And why a marriage contract, of all things?" I pressed on, my voice tinged with frustration. "Why should I be dragged into my father’s mess and made to pay for his mistakes?"

Noah hesitated, then finally spoke, his tone neutral, like he was reading from a prepared script. "It was the only way your father could keep his position in the company and erase his debts."

I scoffed at his answer, my irritation boiling over.

"If this is how your company operates, it’s completely unethical." I shot back, turning my glare to Justin.

This time, he looked up from his phone, his expression unreadable as he stared at me. It was as if he found my objections mildly entertaining—or completely irrelevant.

"Excuse me, sir." The driver interrupted, his voice cutting through the tension. "Where should I take you?"

Justin leaned back, tilting his head toward me.

"Ask the lady." He said, gesturing lazily in my direction.

I didn’t hesitate.

"Here is fine." I replied, recognizing the familiar street outside the window. My mom’s pastry shop was just a few steps away.

The driver pulled over, coming around to open my door.

I stepped out of the car, turning to him with a polite, "Thank you."

He nodded, his smile faint but kind, before closing the door behind me.

As I turned to walk away, the window rolled down, revealing Justin’s piercing gaze.

"I trust I won’t be seeing you again, darling." He said, his voice dripping with sarcasm and arrogance.

"I hope not." I retorted, matching his smugness with my own. For all his angelic good looks and confidence, he was insufferable.

His lips curved into a cheeky smirk as he gave me a small, infuriating wink.

Before I could think of a proper response, the window rolled up and the car drove off, leaving me standing on the sidewalk.

I let out a long breath, shaking off the encounter as I turned and walked toward my mom’s shop.

The last thing I needed was for someone like Justin to linger in my thoughts.

As I stepped into the shop, the comforting scent of freshly baked pastries surrounded me.

Mom's warm smile greeted me from behind the counter, her apron dusted with flour and her hair pinned back.

"Oh, sweetie, you're here." She smiled, stepping out from behind the counter to meet me.

Before I could respond, she pulled me into a hug, holding me close for a moment longer than usual.

"I thought you’d gone back home." She said, still holding me tightly.

"I decided to stop by and help out." I murmured, my voice softer than usual.

She chuckled, breaking the embrace.

"Always my dependable girl." She said warmly, returning to the counter.

I managed a smile as I grabbed an apron from the hook behind the counter and tied it around my waist.

But as I turned to organize a tray of cookies, my smile faltered, disappearing altogether.

Tomorrow. I'd be standing at the altar for a marriage I didn't choose.