Chapter 3 The hunt for the Father

Chapter 3

ISLA'S POV

After Father left my room, the fatigue that had been weighing me down lifted immediately. My limbs felt lighter, but my chest thumped violently against my ribs, my heartbeat echoing in my ears. Anxiety crept over me like a cold shadow. Will Evans be interrogated when they find him? Or shot dead on sight? He had dared to touch a Mafia jewel-and for one night. Thankfully, no one knew the truth: he had flashed money at me, desperate, asking me to rid myself of any child I might end up with. The very reason, I was currently in a dilemma. The thought clung to me, sharp and bitter. "Your father has left the house. You can talk to me now." Ford's voice sliced through the thick silence. I had nearly forgotten I'd let him into my room minutes ago. "There's nothing to talk about, Ford." I kept my voice steady, avoiding eye contact. Ford didn't back down. "You're hiding something. Your father only knows half the story." His tone carried the weight of realization, as if the pieces were finally clicking together for him. I shrugged, careful not to betray any flicker of emotion. "Who is this guy? And how did he manage to eat from the forbidden fruit in just a few hours?" Ford pressed. I turned to face him, heart hammering so hard I feared it might escape my chest. Ford was ruthless-second only to Father-but to me, he had always been something more. A steady presence, a cruel kind of protector. Like the mother I never had. My pulse quickened, and I considered lying. It would be so easy to weave a false story. But Ford would find out the truth soon enough-especially now, with Father's men scouring the city for Evans. It would take a day or two to find Evans. "I don't know who he is. It was a one-night thing." My voice trembled slightly, but I slouched, forcing myself to look indifferent. Let Ford get angry-he could rage all he wanted. His features darkened instantly. "So, it was a hit-and-bail situation. He's going to die." Ford cracked his fingers methodically as he stood, the chilling precision of the gesture sinking into my bones. I felt panic flare. "Can we try not to kill him right off the bat?" My voice was quieter, laced with a desperate hope I couldn't entirely hide. I wanted to believe Evans might want the baby-or even me. What I felt that night had been... real. Special. Ford shrugged casually, as if discussing the weather. "I can't say, Princess. I won't be holding back if I'm the one doing the torture." Ford's phone rang. I watched as he glanced at the screen and took the call. Ford didn't flinch; the person on the other end was likely just relaying information-Ford didn't need to respond. His silence made my stomach twist. Ford ended the call and looked back at me, expression unreadable. "Do you have feelings for him?" I blinked, caught off guard. Ford was already moving toward the doorway, which meant he was preparing to leave. "Huh?" I stammered, my voice catching in my throat. "Are you in love with the bastard?" Ford repeated, voice sharp, as if the answer mattered more than life or death. I looked away, unable to meet his eyes. I'd never asked myself that question. It felt like ice against my skin. "I... I don't understand where this is coming from, Ford." Ford leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, hesitating. "I see." His voice was quieter now, but the edge of steel remained. "Your father's men have found him. He's being brought here as we speak." That was fast. It didn't take long at all. It wasn't just any man, that was sent after him. Panic surged through me. "Who was sent after Evans?" My voice was shaky, betraying the dread curling in my stomach. Ford smirked, a cruel twist of his lips. "Amid." Amid. The name tasted like ash in my mouth. Amid was infamous. He was father's third-in-command and the gang's go-to man for the dirtiest, most brutal business. A sadist by reputation. If Evans was in Amid's clutches, survival was a long shot. He'd be lucky if they didn't harvest pieces of him before they arrived at the mansion. Ford seemed to notice my grim expression and scoffed. "Wipe that sad look off your face, Isla. Then prepare to meet us downstairs. Your father has summoned you." The smirk lingered on his face. This whole thing was entertaining for him. "Dad needs me?" My voice trembled with confusion and fear. I couldn't shake the nagging thought-did they not want to kill Evans? Wait. The horrifying possibility hit me. They can't possibly want me to pull the trigger myself. Ford tilted his head, catching the flicker of thought in my eyes. "It looks like you're the only one who can save that coward's life." I barely had time to process his words before the shrill screech of tires tore through the mansion's courtyard, wheels spinning on concrete. "The men were here." Ford said before leaving me alone in my room. I quickly went to change into better clothes. My wardrobe only has four course. Olive green, Navy blue, Black and Burgundy. All colors that hid blood stain in a way. "Oh, Isla." Dad was the first to speak. His voice was cherry. The walk down the stairs was a far contrast. Very slow for someone who hurriedly dressed up. "Isla?" Evans head shot up to make eye contact. "You?" Evans was held down by two guys. He had been beaten a lot, only his face looked recognizable. He didn't look happy to see me at all. I decided to play indifferent. "I told you, I'd get. Didn't I?" I smirked "You whore!" He yelled. Not a wise choice because he was immediately punched on the face. "Speak with wisdom, pretty boy. Our Princess recognizes you, so now your face is open for us." Ford said. I willed myself to show no emotions. "Please, let me go. I didn't know she was a friend of yours. I won't come within two feet from her again. Please!" Evans cried, holding Dad's ankle. "If I let you go, who'll take responsibility for your child?" Dad asked him. Realization for the situation he was in, finally set in. He turned to me once again. Eyes filled with rage. Yes, I had not used his insulting money at all. "You're pregnant?