Page 187 of The Devil's Thorn

CHAPTER 15

ISABELLA

Thehand over my mouth tightened, and I barely had time to register the second arm that wrapped around my waist, hauling me back like a ragdoll. My boots scraped against the wet pavement, my lungs locking with a sharp breath that couldn’t make it out.

Rain blurred everything. I fought. I thrashed. But the grip didn’t budge—iron and cold and efficient. My back hit a chest, hard, and I felt the size of him. Whoever it was, he wasn’t just grabbing me. He was taking me.

No one said a word. No threats. No demands. Just silence and steel and the sound of my pulse hammering in my ears.

My fingers fumbled for the holster. I felt the cold kiss of the metal handle. I didn’t think. I didn’t need to.

I pulled the gun out and began to lift it—only for a hand to close around mine with bone-snapping force. My scream never made it past his palm. He shoved the barrel away, andthe shot fired off into the night with a deafening crack, hitting somewhere far beside us.

We spun. And I was free.

I twisted, teeth bared, fury bubbling hot—and froze. “Rafael?” My voice was sharp. Disbelieving. “What the fuck?”

He stared at me through the rain, chest rising and falling, soaked shirt clinging to every inch of muscle I wanted to punch. His jaw clenched. “You were going to shoot me.”

“You grabbed me in the dark, Romanov!” I snapped. “What the hell did you think would happen?”

He didn’t even flinch. “Yuri said he saw you leave,” he said, voice rough, low, but not apologetic. “I figured I’d show you just how easy it would’ve been for someone else to do the same.”

I stared at him. Then my palm slammed into his chest. “You think this is some kind of fucked-up lesson?” I hissed. “You think dragging me through the rain, covering my mouth like you’re going to kill me is going to teach me a goddamn thing?”

His eyes didn’t waver. “It’s not about what I think. It’s about what’s real. You could’ve died.”

“And maybe I wouldn’t have,” I bit back. “Because I heard them, Rafael. I know who was involved in that ambush, and it wasn’t the Cartel like you think.”

His brows twitched. I stepped closer, my voice cold, sharp. “They said Viktor’s name. They talked about the Italians. They used the Cartel as a front. You’ve been looking in the wrong direction.”

The air thickened between us. Rain was falling, soaking into my clothes, my hair, but I didn’t feel any of it. Not with him in front of me like that. Not with the storm behind his eyes cracking open.

“You went alone,” he said, low, controlled. “Behind my back.”

“I did what I had to do,” I snapped. “Because you sure as hell weren’t going to let me do anything otherwise.”

“I told you to stay.”

“You don’t own me, Romanov.”

His jaw flexed.

“And what would you have done,” I continued, voice laced with venom, “if it wasn’t you who found me out there? What if itwasViktor?”

“I would’ve buried the bastard,” he growled, stepping closer. “And then I would’ve buried you right after for being so goddamn reckless.”

I shoved him again. He didn’t move.

I could feel the heat off his skin, the way the rain steamed between us like smoke off a fire that wouldn’t die.

“You think you’re the only one who bleeds?” I whispered.

And his answer was silence. Just that unreadable expression. A war behind his eyes.

I could feel the burn in my palms from where I shoved him—again, and again, and again. Rain streamed down my face like it was trying to drown the rage out of me, but it didn’t work. Nothing worked.

“I’m notone of your fucking men you can control,” I hissed, each word slashing between us. “You don’t get to leash me, Rafael.”