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CHAPTER 15

ISLA

I wake with a throbbing headache, either caused by the car accident or the blow I received to the back of the head by my kidnappers. Either could have easily knocked me unconscious. The last thing that I remember is being pulled from the car with Vincent calling my name frantically. I remember seeing him pinned between the crushed car door and the steering wheel, unable to free himself and help me. Two men dragging me away. They forced me into the backseat and then sped away, and suddenly, everything turned black.

I try to move, but quickly find out that I can’t. Someone has tied my hands behind my back and tethered my ankles to the legs of the chair I’m sitting in. Already, I can tell that I might not make it out of this alive.

I look around the room that I’m locked up in and see nothing but blank walls and a long table butted up against the corner. There are guns on the table, lots of them. The men who stuck me in here with a pile of artillery either think that I’m too weak to get loose from their restraints or too scared to fire one of their guns at them. Either way, they are probably right. Given half the chance, I would try to kill them. But I’m a dancer, not an assassin, trained in pirouettes, not guns, so chances are good that I would miss if I tried to fire a shot.

As I sit there alone in the empty room, I try to swallow my fear. Whoever did this must have orchestrated the whole thing in order to incapacitate Vincent using that planned car accident. Otherwise, there’s no way that he would have let anyone take me. I know that much for a fact . And whoever is behind my kidnapping better hope that Vincent never gets out of that car alive because if he does— they’re dead .

Footsteps and voices appear outside the door, and I once again use my eavesdropping skills to listen to them. It sounds like several men talking, but I don’t recognize any of the voices. Finally, after a few long moments of anxiously wondering whether one of them will come inside—the door opens.

A man walks in and stands in front of me with a satisfied smile at my current condition.

“Hello, Isla,” he introduces himself. “My name is Angelo Barone .”

But the introduction is unnecessary. I might not have known his name before, but I recognize his face.

“I’ve seen you in the ballet's audience,” I say as I try not to sound as scared as I feel. “Do you enjoy the ballet?”

“No, not at all,” he laughs. “In fact, I find it excruciatingly boring , no offense.”

“None taken. But then why attend the performances?”

“I like to keep a close personal eye on some of my most worthy adversaries, and it just so happens that one of them has a fondness for the ballet.”

Vincent . That’s why I’m here—Angelo Barone has somehow figured out that Vincent cares for me, and he’s seeking to exploit that as leverage. I refuse to let him. Not only because I vowed never to let powerful men exploit me again, but because I know now how much I care about Vincent, and I refuse to let this asshole use me to harm the man that I’ve fallen in love with. I sit with that thought for a minute as Angelo continues to look me over. It’s the first time that I’ve let myself admit that I’ve fallen in love with a mafia don, even if it’s just a silent admission inside my head. If I get out of this alive, I’m going to tell Vincent that I love him .

“You’re probably wondering why you’re here, aren’t you?” Angelo sneers.

“I think I have a pretty good idea already.”

What is it about bad guys and their affinity for always wanting to monologue? Does it make them feel more powerful and feared? Angelo continues, despite my reluctance to listen to him.

“You witnessed Vincent Moretti kill one of my men,” he says. “Backstage at the theatre after your solo performance. Do you remember that?”

Obviously, I do. It’s not like one can just forget seeing a murder carried out in front of their eyes. It’s a rhetorical question that he doesn’t wait for me to answer, anyway.

“And after that, Vincent made you disappear. I have to admit that it was hard to track you down. Vincent keeps his building locked up pretty tight, but I have a cop on my side that could pay you a visit and confirm what I already suspected to be true,” he continues smugly. “You see, rumors get around quickly in Vegas, and I have eyes and ears everywhere . That’s how I know that the all-powerful Vincent Moretti is sweet on you.” He breaks into laughter as if he’s just told a joke and amused himself. “It’s such a ridiculous stroke of luck, really—that my previously untouchable rival would let himself fall in love and open himself up to such a weakness.”

“You’re a fool if you think Vincent is weak,” I snap at him.

Instantly, Angelo’s smug look turns into a bitter glare. He reaches out and strikes me across the face with a slap that echoes throughout the room.

My cheek stings, and the ache in my head worsens.

“ Careful, my dear,” he hisses. “You might be the only one who can break the Devil, but be under no delusion about having any power here with me. Because I can break you , one piece at a time, if I want to. I control more people in this city than you know.”

“Is that how you got that dumb cop to do your bidding? By offering him a bunch of money and a promise of power?” I say as I try to stall Angelo from doing anything else to hurt me. I hope that somehow Vincent got out of the car and is on his way to find and rescue me. I just need to stay alive until he gets here.

“Detective Monroe?” Angelo lets out a chuckle. “No, his own obsession with destroying Vincent makes him a useful idiot. You see, your boyfriend caused that cop a bunch of trouble years ago, and Hal has had an axe to grind ever since. He plays both sides when it suits him, and I use his badge and his sheer blind stupidity to give me access to what I want, like you .”

“One day, he will turn on you, I bet.”

“Doubtful,” Angelo says as he leans casually against the table piled with ammo. “It would be hard for him to do that from the grave . Unlike Vincent, I don’t like to leave any loose ends lying around.”

There’s a small knock on the door and Angelo goes to open it. A woman walks inside, which surprises me. She’s lovely, demure, with not a single hair out of place in the sleek, dark ponytail at the back of her head. Angelo goes to give her a performative kiss on the cheek, and she grimaces while he isn’t looking, clearly repulsed by him.

“Allow me to introduce my wife, Natalia,” he beams as if he’s showing off a prized pig. “She’s going to babysit you for a moment while I attend to another matter. Don’t worry, though, I’ll be right back to finish our conversation .”

The implication of his tone reveals that our “conversation” is about to get a lot less friendly when he returns. He wants something from me, something that he can use to bury Vincent, and I won’t give it to him, no matter what he does to me.

As soon as the door closes, his wife’s expression changes, and she comes to kneel in front of the chair that I’m tied to.

“Are you alright?” she asks in a whisper. “I heard you were in a car accident before they captured you and brought you here. Are you injured?”

“I don’t think so,” I say in confusion. “Why are you helping me?”

Her eyes glance at the closed door for a second before answering me. “I don’t agree with the way my husband handles things. I try to help the women who get caught in his crossfire as best I can.”

“That’s really brave of you,” I say with a smile. “I can’t imagine being stuck in this criminal world without even loving the man that you’re tied to within it.”

Natalia’s eyes look sadly back at me. “Just because I don’t love my husband doesn’t mean I don’t have love for many things. In this world, love is the most dangerous rebellion.”

“Can you get a message to Vincent for me? Can you tell him where I am?”

Natalia nods. “I will try. But be careful, my dear. These men are dangerous. Both of them have pride that escalates the conflict between them, an intense rivalry that only men seem hellbent on prioritizing. We women have to stick together and be careful.”

I nod in gratitude, both for her help in getting a message to Vincent and for her words of advice. I don’t think that Vincent would ever hurt me, but it’s true that the mafia underground is a dangerous thing to be involved in for any woman.

Natalia stands quickly when the door opens again, and Angelo steps back inside.

“Thank you, darling,” he dismisses her before turning his attention back to me. “Now, where were we?”

“I think you were about to let me go?” I suggest sarcastically, “Before Vincent gets here and cuts you down to size.”

Clearly, Angelo doesn’t appreciate banter and takes offense at any insults directed toward his authority. He lunges at me and grabs the side of my chair, tipping it backward and holding it there as my feet dangle off the ground and my head grows dizzy.

“You think you’re funny?” he snarls. His breath is too close to my face, and it smells like stale cigars and whisky. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, sweetheart. Vincent isn’t coming to save you. No one is coming to save you. The building you’re in right now is my best-kept secret, and I can count on one hand the number of people who know of its location. You don’t leave here unless I want you to. And if I ever let you leave, it won’t be to run back into the arms of my enemy. It’ll be because you’ll be working for me , spreading your legs and turning a profit to line my pockets.”

That threat sends a chill down my spine.

Angelo lowers my chair legs back down to the floor, and I plant my feet down in front of me as I try to steady myself.

“If you help me, Isla, then I’ll help you,” he grins. “I want to know everything you know about Vincent’s security systems inside that main casino building. I know he has a woman outfitting all his establishments with high-tech security. I want to know who she is. You give me a name that helps me break into Vincent’s buildings, and I’ll let you stay in this room a little longer before I throw you to the wolves. How does that sound?”

“It sounds like you can go fuck yourself ,” I say as I bite down on my lip, knowing that I’ll pay for that remark.

“That’s some pretty unflattering language coming from the mouth of such a pristine ballerina,” he says, narrowing his eyes at me in anger. “Madame Durant would be disappointed, I think. Yes, I know her too—seems you and I have quite a few mutual friends , don’t we? Think carefully before answering my next question, ballerina. Because there are a whole hell of a lot of things that I can let my men do to you if you don’t help me get what I want.”

I glare vehemently back at him, even though I’m admittedly terrified right now.

“What’s the name of Vincent’s tech specialist, and what do you know about the inside of his building? Tell me how I can get in.”

I stare right at him and swallow hard as I ignore the feeling of nausea that my nerves are causing. When I open my mouth to answer him, I do it knowing full well that he won’t like it.

“ No ,” I say. “I won’t help you.”

Angelo comes at me with a fist this time as he strikes me across the face, and my eyes roll into the back of my head.