Page 69

CHARLOTTE

A sweet old lady delivered my food on a tray earlier. I expected it to be Declan.

There’s plenty of things that could be a weapon in this room, but it’s pointless.

The only way now I can survive is by getting him to listen to me.

To tell the truth and hope he believes me.

I keep scribbling in the notepad. Pages and pages of names and locations.

I’ve kept Drago out of it, he’s the final trick up my sleeve if I can somehow make contact.

For now, I withhold. I need to protect him, just like he does me. Until I know of their intentions with this list.

If I can get in Enzo’s good books, my chances of survival are higher.

Once he’s done with me, my life is in Declan’s hands.

And so is his daughter’s.

Every day that passes, a part of me dies that I’m away from my little girl.

Running my hands through my damp curls, with a sigh, I place the pad down beside me and stretch my legs out.

Every conversation I’ve heard over the last ten years replays in my head.

Tatiana is a lost soul. Drago told me this, and it has confused me ever since; perhaps Enzo will make sense of it. So I quickly write that down. Seeing as she seems to be the interest of Enzo.

A pain stabs through my chest, thinking about Isabella being trapped there.

What if Enzo sends an army to the house?

Fuck.

“Drago will protect her,” I whisper to myself, over and over.

I need her back, and I need Declan to listen.

Jumping up from the bed, I frantically beat my fists on the wood to get his attention.

When I hear the lock click, I step back.

“What?” he asks dismissively as he swings open the door.

He doesn’t look directly at me.

“We need to talk.”

His gaze lands on the notepad on the bed, and he walks over to collect it.

Opening it up, he flips through the pages.

“You’ve got quite the memory, it seems. Enzo will be happy.” His voice is flat as he slams the book shut.

“I’m not done with it.”

He flippantly throws it back on the bed. As he brushes past me, I grab his wrist.

“Please. Listen to me. There’s someone at home I need to get.”

He snatches his arm back and doesn’t turn around.

“Your husband?” Venom drips from his tone and he swings the door open.

“No. Someone I actually love.”

“You don’t strike me as someone who knows what love is. Grab me again; I’ll have you restrained, and one of my men will take notes for you. Understand?”

My lips snap shut as he faces me, his eyes darkening.

He’s pissed, so I nod. Now isn’t the time.

“Don’t disturb me again until you’re done writing.”

He scoffs and slams the door shut behind him. Tears burn in my eyes.

This is my final shot and the man can’t stand to be in the same room as me.