Intruder

Chapter 8; Intruder

"What is this sound? Who is this?"

Isabelle rushed to the hallway when she heard the loud noise for the second time.

At first, she thought it was nothing…

This house was old, full of sounds. But the second creak was heavier, and then there was another one.

Her heart dropped to the ground heavily, feeling like it was impossible to lift it. 

Isabelle turned toward the noise, but the hallway was empty. 

She stepped backward, one hand pressed against the wall. Then she saw a tall shadow at the end of the hall, near the glass doors.

He didn't belong here…

The man also didn't run. He walked toward her like he had all the time in the world. Isabelle felt like she was iced in place, her body refused to move and turn around..

Then she did the only thing she could…Isabelle finally started to run.

Her bare feet slapped the floor as she turned the corner, but the man was fast. He grabbed her by the arm and slammed her against the wall. Her breath flew out of her chest.

"Found you, little wife," he hissed.

Isabelle struggled. She kicked, scratched, but he was too strong. His grip on her wrist made her cry out.

"You Munros never learn, do you?" he said, leaning closer. "All pride and money, but no brains. Just like your sister."

Isabelle's scream died in her throat.

"You know who killed Charlotte?" she asked, her voice started breaking almost immediately.

But the man didn't answer, and just raised his hand to strike her—

A slow clap echoed from behind them…

"Go ahead," Reign's voice said coolly, from the shadows. "Touch her again. I dare you."

The intruder turned, startled, and Reign walked out of the darkness looking calm and dressed in black. No panic could be felt in his steps. Just a small smirk playing on his lips.

"I won't stop you," Reign shrugged, folding his arms. "In fact, I've wanted to do it myself. She's been annoying me since the day we met."

Isabelle stared at him, confused. Her eyes burned from the anger. Her wrist throbbed.

'He's letting him hurt me?' she thought. 'He wants this?'

The intruder grinned and raised his fist again.

But that was a mistake.

Isabelle lifted her knee fast and slammed it into the man's groin. 

"Yo-you, bi-iiich…." He groaned, doubled over, and dropped the gun he had tucked into his belt.

Without thinking, she grabbed it.

"Back off!" she shouted, pointing it at him with shaking hands.

"Hah…" The man laughed through the pain. "You won't shoot."

Then Reign was behind her, his chest brushed her back.

"Oh, she'll shoot," Reign whispered in her ear. "Let me help you."

His hand slid over hers, fixing her grip on the gun. He adjusted her stance, guided her arm, and aimed the weapon at the man's head.

"Like this," Reign muttered gently. "Right between the eyes…Squeeze slowly. Not too hard…You want him to regret it first."

Isabelle's pulse pounded faster than any athlete doing sprints.

The man's eyes widened. His pants darkened for obvious reasons, and he did what every normal human would do in such a situation-he chose to run….

Down the hallway, and through the door. Disappeared into the night…

Isabelle continued standing still, chest kept on rising and falling faster than the air leaving her lungs.

She turned around, still holding the gun, and pointed it at Reign.

He just smiled.

"Go on," he nodded as if accepting it. "Shoot me."

Her hand shook.

'Do it,' she thought. 'He deserves it.'

But she couldn't pull the trigger…

Reign turned his back on her and walked away, hands in his pockets like nothing had happened.

The gun flew. It hit him right on the back of his head.

He stopped and turned around slowly.

"Did you just throw a gun at me?" he asked, eyes darkened instantly.

"You stood there and watched," Isabelle snapped. "You let him hurt me. You said you wanted to do it yourself. Are you sick?"

"It was a bluff," Reign replied flatly. "To mess with his head."

"And you couldn't tell me that?" she yelled. "You stood there like I was nothing. Like I deserved it."

He walked back to her, getting a little bit too close.

"This marriage isn't real," Reign scoffed coldly. "You don't mean anything to me, Isabelle. You're a contract. That's all. And the sooner we find out who killed Charlotte and my brother, the sooner we can go back to our separate lives."

She looked up at him, full of rage.

"Then next time someone tries to kill me, maybe don't enjoy the show so much," she hissed.

He didn't answer, and just turned and walked away.

Isabelle was left alone in the hallway, her heart still raced, her hand still tingling from the grip of the gun.

She hated Reign…

Every word, every smirk, every look he gave her made her blood boil. Reign Kraus was a nightmare in human form. 

Charming in public, heartless in private. He talked in riddles and looked at her like she was beneath him.

And yet… he helped her.

Not kindly or gently…But still, he had stepped in.

'Why?'

She didn't understand him. She didn't trust him. But something told her—he was hiding something more than anyone else in this house.

And he was watching her. Always…

Isabelle clenched her fists and stormed back into her room, slamming the door behind her. The sound echoed through the hall.

She wanted this to be over. She wanted Charlotte back. She wanted a life where guns, intruders, and liars didn't live under the same roof.

But that world didn't exist anymore…Not while she was tied to Reign Kraus.

Not while someone out there still wanted her dead.

And not while the truth about Charlotte's death stayed buried…

Isabelle looked down at her trembling legs, and saw the same picture she was just holding a while ago.

"Tomorrow we will bury you, Charlotte."