5. Isabel
5
ISABEL
I ’m standing in front of my closet, biting my lip, trying to decide what to wear.
There’s a lot to consider. Do I go bold? Do I go subtle?
I tug a few dresses off the rack, holding each up to my body, checking them out in the mirror. Nothing feels right. Nothing perfectly screams the vibe I’m going for tonight.
I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and pause, my stomach twisting. The memory of the Halloween party, Montclair’s hand on my arm, his breath hot on my ear... I shudder involuntarily, pushing the thoughts back into the dark recesses of my mind. Gross .
His words were even worse. “ You’ll learn how to please me, darling.” That sick smile of his... I roll my eyes and shake it off. I’m doing this for Val , after all, not for him.
I glance at the clock on my nightstand. Nearly time to go.
I sigh and pull the short, purple tie-dyed skirt off the hanger, the one I know will turn heads but not too much. Subtle yet flirty. As I slip into it, my mind races back to the reason I’m doing this. Camila . My best friend, Valeria’s , long-lost love.
Ever since Val and I aged out of Gloomwood Orphanage , she’s been searching for her. She made a vow to find Camila , no matter what it took, and I promised I’d help her every step of the way. We’re closer than we’ve ever been to finding information that leads to her.
I took a part-time job at Vanguard , slipping in as a waitress to brush shoulders with the town’s most elite men. I started going by Margot Vale , a name that offered just enough mystery to keep my real identity safe.
As a reporter for The Black Quill , the last thing I needed was for anyone to suspect I was snooping around. And from what Val and I uncovered in our research, everyone tied to Vanguard has a secret to hide. So , what better way to expose them than to infiltrate their playground?
So far, I’ve only managed to secure one invitation to the Halloween party, after months of flirting with Montclair . It’s reckless, asking him for another, but he’s the only one who’s been easy to manipulate. I don’t know if I should feel proud or ashamed of that.
Once I’m ready, I smooth down the skirt and put on a little lip gloss, feeling more confident with each passing second. This could be it. Tonight might bring us the answers we’ve been hunting for.
My phone buzzes with a text from Val , asking me to come outside.
I grab my purse, slip on my sneakers, and head out the door.
* * *
The grandeur of the Whitmore estate swallows me whole the moment I step into the foyer. The air feels heavy, laden with an uneasy tension that clings to my skin. My pulse quickens as I glance around, and I catch the faint scent of something sweet—maybe it’s the flowers in the grand arrangements, or maybe it’s just the overwhelming sense of wealth that fills the space.
I glance over at Valeria , who stands just behind me. Her presence is a constant comfort, even in a place like this. I feel her hand on my shoulder for a moment before she pulls away.
“ Well , who do we have here?”
The voice slithers out of the shadows, low and intense. My head snaps to the right, where a man emerges. He’s tall and broad-shouldered, with short dark hair and tattoos that snake up from the collar of his shirt and wind down his hands. His brown eyes sweep over me with unsettling focus.
Before we can respond, another man steps forward. He’s leaner but just as imposing, with slicked-back hair and brown eyes, his towering frame radiating authority. “ Looks like fresh meat,” he sneers, his lips curling into a twisted grin before a maniacal laugh escapes him. The sound sends a chill racing down my spine.
Two masks. Identical . Hollow -eyed.
I fight the urge to step back as a third man comes into view. He’s different—striking in a way that’s hard to ignore. Blond hair perfectly styled. Piercing blue eyes that lock on to me. His suit is sharp and tailored, clinging to his frame like a second skin. Everything about him radiates power and control. My throat tightens just looking at him.
“ I’ve never seen you here before, ladies.” His voice is smooth, but there’s a coldness beneath it that raises the hairs on the back of my neck. He reaches for my hand, lifting it to his lips, and his touch lingers just long enough to make my skin prickle.
“ I’m Theodore Whitmore , but you can call me Theo ,” he says with a hint of condescension. He gestures to the two men behind him. “ These are my brothers, Maxwell and Julian .”
“ Not actual brothers,” the leaner one— Maxwell —chimes in, smirking beneath his mask.
Theo turns to him, his tone sharp. “ Thanks for the clarification.”
Maxwell shrugs, a chuckle escaping him as though he thrives on pushing buttons. Meanwhile , Julian stays silent, his gaze fixed on me. There’s something about him—dark and unreadable—that makes it hard to breathe.
“ What are your names?” Theo asks, his eyes fixed on me a beat too long. It’s unnerving.
My mouth goes dry, and I shift on my feet, willing my voice not to tremble. “ I’m Isabel ,” I manage, gesturing to my side. “ And this is Valeria .”
Theo’s lips curve into a slow, sinister smile. “ Welcome to Latibulum Noctis ,” he announces, spreading his arms, as if to embrace the night itself. “ Tonight , leave your inhibitions at the door and enter with an open mind. I promise we’ll show you a good time.”
The words settle in my chest like a stone.
There’s nothing casual about his tone that suggests a normal evening.
“ Follow me,” Theo commands, turning to lead us deeper into the house.
Valeria and I hesitate. My instincts scream at me to leave, but curiosity keeps my feet rooted in place. If there’s one thing I know about myself, it’s that I can’t resist uncovering the truth, no matter how dangerous it may be.
It’s what drove me to pursue a career with The Black Quill . Investigative reporting isn’t just a job, it’s a calling.
As soon as Valeria first told me about Camila and the Whitmores all those years ago, I knew I wanted to dedicate myself to exposing the kind of truths most people are too afraid to face. I was one of the many reasons that shaped my path, transforming a wide-eyed orphan into someone willing to walk straight into the lion’s den.
We trail behind the three men, their presence unshakable, but instead of shrinking away, I feel a spark of excitement humming under my skin. My heart races—not just from nerves, but from the thrill of it all. This is what I crave: the rush, the mystery, the chance to dive headfirst into the unknown.
The dimly lit hallway only adds to the drama, with shadows stretching across the walls like something out of a thriller movie. My mind is already cataloging every detail, every sound. I can’t help it. I thrive on moments like this, even if they terrify me a little.
As the silence grows louder, I feel the need to speak to shake off the tension. Before I can, Valeria nudges me gently, her shoulder brushing mine. “ You were enjoying the attention, weren’t you?”
Busted .
I shrug, my lips curling into a mischievous smile. “ Maybe .”
“ You little slut,” she murmurs with a chuckle.
“ Hey , I’m here for a good time, not a long time,” I reply, heat rising to my cheeks.
Her teasing falters for a moment as she tugs me closer. “ As long as you promise to be safe.”
“ Yes , Mommy ,” I tease, flashing a grin. The nickname started as a joke. Val’s always been overprotective, so it felt fitting.
She groans, rolling her eyes. “ Oh my God . Are you ever going to stop with that shit?”
“ Nope !”
“ Whatever . Just remember, if we get separated and you need help, text me our code word,” Valeria says, her expression serious.
Butterfly . Val picked it years ago because butterflies have always meant something to her.
“ Yes , I’ll make sure to pull out my phone and text you while I’m being murdered,” I retort, trying to keep my tone light, though my stomach twists with unease.
Her steps falter, and she grabs my arm, her grip tight. “ Isabel Lucia Soto ,” she hisses. “ Be serious for two fucking seconds.”
The use of my full name makes me wince. “ Fine , fine. I’ll make sure to reach out if anything looks sketchy.”
She exhales, her shoulders relaxing slightly, but I can still see the worry etched into her features.
As we step further into the mansion, my pulse quickens, the anticipation building with each step. I don’t know what’s waiting for me tonight, but one thing is certain: I’ve already crossed the threshold, and there’s no going back.