Chapter 1
Isabella's POV
Three years ago, my fiancé sold me to rival mafia families. I suffered at the hands of the Benedetti human trafficking syndicate in underground dens at Brooklyn docks. Now, I finally found a chance to escape from their claws.
My lungs burned as I crashed through the underbrush. Branches clawed at my clothes. Behind us, I could hear them. The hunters. Their footsteps pounded against the forest floor in a steady rhythm that made my heart race faster.
"Keep running!" I gasped to the girl beside me, though I could barely hear my own voice over the blood thundering in my ears.
"I can't... I can't breathe," Sarah panted, her face pale with terror. Her dark hair was matted with sweat and leaves. "How much further?"
"Just keep moving," I urged her. "We can't stop now."
She'd been in the underground network longer than I had. Eighteen months of surviving in a world where human lives were currency. But that experience didn't make her any less afraid. If anything, it made her more aware of what they'd do to us if they caught us.
The beam of a flashlight swept across the trees to our left, missing us by feet. I caught a glimpse of the man holding it. Tall, broad-shouldered, with the kind of cold expression that said he'd done this before.
"Where are you, little rabbits?" His voice carried through the darkness, mocking. "Come out, come out, wherever you are."
They were treating this like a game. Some sick hunt where we were nothing more than prey.
"There!" another voice shouted. "I see movement by the oak grove!"
My heart sank. They were gaining on us.
Sarah stumbled, her foot catching on an exposed root. She went down hard, a sharp cry escaping her lips as her ankle twisted wrong.
"No, no, no..." I skidded to a halt and spun around, reaching for her.
"Help me!" Her eyes were wide with panic, her hand stretched toward mine. "Please, don't leave me! I can't run anymore!"
"You have to try," I whispered desperately, grabbing her arm. "Sarah, please, get up!"
"My ankle... it's broken," she sobbed. "Go without me. Just go!"
"I'm not leaving you!"
The crack of gunfire split the night air.
Sarah's body jerked once, then went still. The light faded from her eyes as blood bloomed across her chest. Her outstretched hand fell to the earth with a soft thud.
"Sarah!" I screamed, dropping to my knees beside her. "Sarah, no!"
But she was gone. Just nineteen years old. Three days ago she'd told me about her little brother back home, about how she was going to get out of this life and go back to him someday.
"One down," called a voice from the darkness, cold and satisfied. "Now for the other little rabbit. Did you see how she dropped? Clean shot through the heart."
"Boss wants the other one alive," another voice replied. "But he didn't say she had to be unharmed."
Laughter echoed through the trees. Cruel, inhuman laughter.
I turned and ran, leaving Sarah's body behind in that clearing. I'm sorry, I thought desperately. I'm so sorry.
Hell. That's what Marco had called it. That's where he'd said I belonged. Maybe he'd been right all along.
The memory came flooding back as vivid and painful as if it had happened yesterday instead of three years ago.
Rain hammered against the windows of the Salvatore estate. I stood in the marble foyer, my dress soaked through from running across the courtyard.
Marco's eyes were black with rage and grief, his usually perfect appearance disheveled.
"You killed her," he said, his voice deadly quiet. "You killed Lucia."
The words hit me like physical blows. Lucia who'd treated me like a sister instead of an outsider.
"Marco, please..." I'd reached for him then, just as Sarah had reached for me tonight. "You have to believe me. I would never..."
"Don't." He struck my hand away like I was something diseased. "Don't you dare say her name with that lying mouth."
"But I love you," I'd whispered, tears streaming down my face. "You know I love you. How could you think I would ever hurt Lucia?"
"Love?" His laugh was bitter, cruel. "You call this love? Murdering my sister for what? Jealousy? Because she saw through your innocent act?"
"I didn't kill her! Marco, someone is trying to frame me!"
"The evidence says otherwise, cara mia." His fingers closed around the silver pocket watch hanging from my neck. "Security footage. Witnesses. Your fingerprints on the murder weapon."
"That's impossible! I was with you that night!"
"Until you left." His grip tightened on my grandfather's watch. "Until you said you needed air and disappeared for two hours."
With one savage yank, he broke the chain. The delicate silver links scattered across the marble floor.
"This ends now," he'd said, clutching the watch in his fist. "You're going to pay for what you did. You're going to hell, where you belong."
"Marco, please! Don't do this! I'm innocent!"
"Innocent?" His voice dropped to a deadly whisper. "We'll see how innocent you are after Antonio finishes with you."
The last thing I'd seen before his men dragged me away was the look in his eyes. Not just hatred. Pain. Like he wanted to believe me but couldn't allow himself to.
A bullet whizzed past my ear, splintering the bark of a pine tree inches from my head. The memory shattered, bringing me crashing back to the present.
"Almost got her!" The hunter's voice was getting closer. "She's slowing down!"
"Take the shot if you have a clear line!"
"No! Boss wants her breathing. Says he has special plans for this one."
Hell. Yes, Marco had been right about that. This was hell. Running for my life through a forest where human beings were hunted for sport. Where girls like Sarah died begging for help that would never come.
But I wasn't going to die tonight. Not like this.
I pushed myself harder, ignoring the fire in my muscles and the pain in my side. Through the trees ahead, I could see lights. Not the harsh beams of flashlights, but the warm, golden glow of windows.
A mansion. Massive and imposing, its stone walls rising from the darkness.
This place looks familiar.
But right now, it looked like salvation.
I burst from the tree line and stumbled across a manicured lawn, my bare feet sliding on the wet grass. Behind me, I could hear them crashing through the forest.
"She's heading for the main house!"
"Stop her before she reaches the door!"
"Too late! She's almost there!"
I pounded against the heavy wooden doors. They were carved with intricate designs, family crests and twining vines.
"Please!" I screamed. "Someone help me! They're going to kill me!"
Please let someone be home. Please let them help me.
The door swung open just as another gunshot rang out.