Pawns in the Game

Nathan's breath came in short bursts, the damp scent of moss and earth filling his lungs as he leveled the gun back at Isabella's head. She knelt, trembling but defiant, her lips curling into that infuriating half-smile as if she still controlled the situation despite the ropes binding her wrists.

"Hey, calm down, Nathan. You don't want to be like me, the heartless bitch, right?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm, her gaze daring him to pull the trigger.

Nathan's grip on the weapon tightened. His voice was cold, calculated. "You keep pushing, Isabella. Don't think I won't do it." He said his expression firm as he kept staring at his father who remained silent.

A glimmer of pain flashed across her face, but she masked it quickly, voice shifting into that same icy taunt. "I'm not afraid of you, Nathan. You're too weak. Always have been. Just like your—"