Page 114 of Blood Debt

My body shakes as I stumble forward, adrenaline a fire in my veins. My hands are trembling, my face throbs where he hit me, but I don’t let myself stop.

I burst into an open courtyard, moonlight spilling like a spotlight over the cracked stones. Relief doesn’t come. Instead, my heart plummets.

Marcello Vitale is there.

He stands like he’s been waiting for me, gloved hands folded behind his back, pale blue eyes glinting with amusement. He looks immaculate as ever, his navy suit pristine, his hair in perfect order, as if this whole nightmare is nothing but a game to him.

I freeze. My body screams at me to run, to retreat, but the moment I turn, two guards step out from the shadows, rifles aimed squarely at me.

Marcello smiles, slow and poisonous.

“Well,” he drawls, his voice dripping with satisfaction, “you’re a tough one, Mrs. Bellarosa.”

The title makes bile rise in my throat.

He strolls forward with leisurely steps, as if he has all the time in the world. My hands twitch, my finger brushing the trigger, but I don’t move. I can’t—not with the guards so close.

He stops in front of me, tilts his head, and with a gloved hand, he lifts my chin as if I’m a child to be inspected. His eyes glitter, cold and mocking.

I slap him across the face, the crack echoing through the courtyard. Before his smirk fades, I spit—right across his cheek.

The guards tense, guns cocking. My heart seizes.

Marcello chuckles low in his throat and raises a hand, gesturing them to wait. Then his hand swings across my face. The slap burns, rattling my teeth, forcing a cry from me.

Rage flares hot, and I lunge at him, ready to claw, to shoot, to kill—

A cry stops me.

I whip my head around, breath frozen in my chest.

Down the corridor, two men drag Isla, her body sagging between them. Her face is twisted in pain, sweat soaking her hair, and then—

A dark wetness spreads down her legs. Water trails across the stone floor.

My stomach drops. “No….” The word slips from my lips as my knees weaken.

Her water has broken.

And she’s still in their hands.

Chapter 31 – Cristofano

Marcello’s Estate

A sharp sting explodes across my cheek.

I gasp, choking on stale air as I roll to my side, coughing hard enough to make my ribs ache. My eyes snap open, the world swimming—walls of concrete, shadows, the faint copper stink of blood.

“Cristofano—” A voice cracks, raw, desperate. My shoulder is seized, shaken hard.

I blink, vision clearing enough to see Matteo crouched over me, face smeared with blood, his hair matted, his chest rising and falling in ragged gulps. His hand comes down again, another slap against my jaw, and I groan.

“For God’s sake—thank heavens. You’re alive. You’re alive.” His voice breaks on the words, relief bleeding through the iron he usually wears like armor.

I force myself upright, teeth grinding against the pounding in my head. My jaw throbs where he’s been hitting me, my throat raw as I rasp, “Where—?”

Matteo drags me against the wall, his own body trembling with adrenaline. “Small room. Holding cell, I think. They dumped us here…. They thought you were out cold for good.”