Page 78 of Broken Blood Ties

I don’t react. In fact, I make a show of using any remaining strength to twist my gaze over my shoulder, pretending to look for someone behind me before meeting his inquisitive, yet smug, stare. “I don’t know who that is.”

The lie slips from my tongue like my life depends on it.

The corner of his mouth lifts, revealing pearly white teeth that clash with his black suit and tie. My attention drifts to a gold pin with the initials EV, the same Tim is wearing. Oh hell. What have I stumbled into?

I gesture toward the pin. “You the leader of this fancy club or something?”

“Or something,” he says.

He tilts his head, studying me before he circles the chair, examining. I snarl when his hand yanks on my slicked-back ponytail.

“You see, I’ve had some EV members verify you’re a Buscetta, and I have to tell you, I’m impressed your father has managed to keep his only child hidden for so long.”

I narrow my eyes to keep them from going wide. Only child? He truly doesn’t know my father has two daughters. “I’m not who you think I am. I’m not this Isabella person.”

Suddenly, his hand wraps around my neck, ushering in a squeeze that makes me wheeze for air. Holy shit, I can’t breathe.

“Don’t insult me. I know who you are, and your father is going to pay handsomely if he wants you back.”

I scoff the best I can with his forceful grip around my throat. “He doesn’t care. He won’t care. I’m not worth anything to him,” I croak.

He considers this, his hand releasing me enough I’m able to gulp in a lungful of air. “EV, or Echelon Vanguard, is not your average club, Miss Buscetta. We’re powerful businessmen, politicians, ex-mafia, doing our best to contend with the Bratva and Cosa Nostra in New York. Personally, it’d be a lot more convenient if you were the Bratva because I’ve been trying to get to Luka Morozov for several years, but I guess a Cosa Nostra princess will have to do.”

He moves to stand in front of me, placing a finger under my chin to lift my gaze to him. My nostrils flare as he licks his lips, eyes dipping to my chest. But before he can reach out to grope me, another man rushes in.

“Mr. Rose. There’s someone else here asking for the girl.”

My heart drops at the same time as Mr. Rose’s hand does. “Well, show them in.”

I hear her cries before I see her. Oh my God, no. No.

A burly guard yanks in Luna, arms forced behind her, and he throws her to the ground. She’s dressed in jeans and a T-shirt way too large for her, and I realize it’s Nikolai’s. She heaves, staring at the red on the floor.

My chest tightens, looking at her. First an arranged marriage, and now this. What have I done? The crushing weight is impossible to shrug off, and warm tears splash down my cheeks.

“Well, what do we have here? Aren’t you a pretty little thing,” Mr. Rose says.

“Luna …” I catch myself whispering her name as more tears slip down my face.

Mr. Rose walks around me, his focus hovering on Luna and he reaches from behind me to drag a finger down my chest.

“Stop! Don’t touch her!” Luna snarls. His hand stills.

“And who is she to you?” The way he says it is coaxing. He’s looking for an answer.

Don’t tell him.

Luna’s face is pale and drawn tight as she stares at where my hands and feet are bound. The pain on her face echoes the look she gave me in my bathroom the other day when I came home high and utterly hung over. She was disappointed, but more than that, she was scared for me.

“Let her go. She’s underage and shouldn’t even be here.”

Mr. Rose lets a slimy laugh slide from him as he moves toward her instead. He approaches Luna, wrapping his fingers around her neck. “You are the one who shouldn’t be here. Our friend here is of some use to us. You may just have to be the scraps. Remove her and give her to one of the men to play with.”

He flicks his hand, and when the guard behind her fists her hair, I scream for her. She fights, but it’s no use, the man is too strong, too motivated.

“Wait, wait! I’m her sister!” Luna yells.

Mr. Rose halts the guard. “Her sister?”