The taxi's tires crunched gravel as it rolled up to Diego's estate, the iron gates gleaming like sentinels under the fading sun. I pressed my nose to the window, a grin tugging my lips. The mansion loomed ahead, stone walls draped in ivy, lawns clipped to perfection and that lion's head fountain spitting water with a roar I had never forgotten.
As a kid, I had raced Marco around that fountain, our laughter echoing until Mom whisked me to Haven's End. My black dress swished as I stepped out, paint-speckled fingers clutching my sketchbook. The air carried roses and a metallic tang, sharp like a blade. Last night's flickering light on the pier flashed in my mind, quick, ghostly, gone too fast. I shook it off, the thrill of being back drowning out the unease.
A guard in a dark cap squinted at me, his hand resting on a radio. "Isabella Cruz?" His voice was gruff, like he had rather be anywhere else. I flashed a smile, tossing my hair. "The one and only." He waved me through, his eyes lingering like I was a puzzle he couldn't solve.
The driveway stretched long, the fountain's spray catching the light in tiny rainbows. Inside, the mansion sparkled, marble floors reflecting chandeliers, walls hung with paintings bold enough to steal your breath. I knew every corner: the staircase where I had tripped at seven, the hallway nook where I had stashed Marco's toy cars.
The living room vibrated with life, jazz blaring, glasses clinking, cousins and aunts swirling in a sea of silk and sequins. I dove in, my heart light. Cousin Sofia, her red dress blazing, spotted me and squealed, her heels clicking as she ran over. "Bella!" She crushed me in a hug, her perfume like a flower shop explosion.
"You're back! Come dance, you little artist!" I laughed, spinning her around. "Only if you keep up, Sof!" Aunt Clara joined us, her earrings jangling as she shoved a pastry in my hand. "Eat, Bella! You're too skinny!" Her laugh boomed, and I munched the flaky treat, crumbs dusting my dress.
The room was a kaleidoscope, uncles roaring jokes, cousins sneaking wine, music pulling everyone into a chaotic dance. Marco appeared, his suit sharp, his grin wide as he twirled me. "Bella, you're stealing the show!" he said, but his eyes flicked to the door, quick and jittery, like he was waiting for a storm.
I caught sight of Diego by the staircase, a king in a tailored suit, his gray-streaked hair slicked back. His sharp eyes swept the room, commanding without a word. He looked every bit the businessman, but the way people leaned toward him, hanging on his every nod, made my skin prickle. He spotted me, his face softening into a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
I waved, my stomach twisting, curious but not ready for whatever he wanted to say. Then I saw him. He stood by a velvet curtain, a whiskey glass dangling in his hand, untouched. Tall, with a boxer's frame, lean muscles under a dark shirt, like he could dodge a punch or throw one. His messy black hair fell over stormy gray eyes that locked onto mine across the room.
My heart slammed, like a wave hitting the shore. He stared back, his lips curving into a slow, dangerous smile, and I felt it something electric, like the air before a lightning strike. I didn't know his name, but I wanted to. Badly.
I weaved through the crowd, drawn to him like a tide. He set his glass down, stepping toward me, his eyes never breaking away. "You look like you're about to start a revolution," he said, his voice low, rough like sea glass.
I tilted my head, a grin sneaking out. "Maybe I am. You look like you do join one." He laughed, a sound that warmed my skin. "Only if it's your kind of trouble. I'm Salvador."
"Isabella," I said, my pulse racing. "You here for the party, or just to hold up curtains?" He stepped closer, his breath brushing my cheek. "Here for the view. And you're stealing it."
My cheeks flushed, but I held his gaze.
My heart skipped a beat as Salvador's eyes locked onto mine. I felt a spark of electricity, like the air was charged with anticipation. The music and laughter around us faded into the background as we stood there, frozen in time.
Suddenly, Salvador's hand reached out, and he gently brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. His touch sent shivers down my spine, and I felt a rush of excitement. "Dance with me," he said, his voice low and husky.
I nodded, my pulse racing. We moved onto the dance floor, our bodies swaying to the music. Salvador's hand rested on my waist, his fingers tracing the curve of my spine. I felt a sense of freedom, like I was floating on air.
The music was a blur, but our movements were in perfect sync. We spun and twirled, our bodies moving as one. I felt alive, like I'd never truly lived before.
As the music reached its climax, Salvador's eyes locked onto mine. I saw a flash of desire, a spark of attraction that left me breathless. My heart was racing, my pulse pounding in my ears.
And then, suddenly, the music stopped. The room fell silent, except for the sound of shattering glass. A gunshot echoed through the room, and people screamed.
Salvador's arms wrapped around me, pulling me close. "Get down," he whispered, his voice urgent. I felt a rush of fear, but Salvador's body shielded me from harm.
As we crouched behind a nearby statue, I saw Diego's face, his eyes flashing with anger. "Everyone, stay calm," he boomed. "This is under control."
But I knew better. The gunshot had changed everything. The party was over, and reality had set in. Salvador's eyes met mine, and I saw a glimmer of concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft.
I nodded, my heart still racing. "Yeah, I'm fine." But I wasn't fine. I was shaken, and I didn't know what was happening.
As we stood up, I saw the room in chaos. People were screaming, running for cover. The sound of sirens echoed in the distance, and I knew that this night was far from over.
Salvador's hand grasped mine, and we moved through the crowd, trying to make sense of what had happened. I saw Marco, his face pale, his eyes wide with fear. "Bella, I'm sorry," he said, his voice shaking.
I didn't have time to respond. Salvador pulled me toward the door, his eyes scanning the room. "We need to get out of here," he said, his voice firm.
As we stepped outside, I saw the flickering light again, quick and ghostly. It was like a warning, a sign that something was very wrong. And then, it vanished, leaving me with more questions than answers.
What had just happened? And who was behind the gunshot? I looked at Salvador, his eyes locked onto mine. I knew that I could trust him, at least for now.
But as we walked away from the mansion, I couldn't shake the fear within me.