Page 97 of Vicious Temptation

“Bella–” Gabriel’s hands tighten around mine, and I lean in, brushing my lips against his cheek as if I’m giving him a goodbye caress. But I whisper in his ear as I do, pitching my voice so low that no one else will hear.

“I trust you’ll help me if you can,” I breathe against his ear, clinging to his hands. “But only if you can keep them safe while you do.”

A hand grabs my arm roughly, yanking me up and back, away from Gabriel. I clamp my teeth down around a scream, not wanting to already break the promise I made to Cecelia and Danny, that everything was going to be fine. But the memories are crowding in already–of other hands on me like this, dragging me roughly into a car, sliding beneath my wedding dress. Tangling in my hair as I’m pushed to my knees.

I wrench out of the grasp, hard, tilting my chin up as I glare at Igor. “I’ll go with you,” I tell him evenly. “But tell your men to keep their hands off of me.”

The corners of his mouth twitch again, amused. He nods once, curtly, and then strides forward, expecting me to follow. I see his men keep their weapons trained on Gabriel and Agnes and the children, waiting for Igor’s command.

“You promised.” My voice is strained.

“And I will keep it.” Igor pauses, turning slightly to glance back at me. “As soon as you’re at the door with me, devochka. It wouldn’t do to give Gabriel a chance to fight back, before we’re already leaving, would it?”

My heart pounds in my chest. I’m terrified that Igor is going to break his word, that I’ll step out of the house and hear a rattle of gunfire, like that day in the church. The screams of people dying.

People I love.

They’ll die anyway, if you don’t do this. I keep repeating that to myself, as I put one foot in front of the other, all the way to the front door. Igor steps back as he opens it, allowing me to go out first. My heart slams into my ribs as I step over the threshold, squeezing my eyes tightly shut, terrified of what I’ll hear next.

“Let them go,” Igor calls back into the house, and my knees nearly buckle with relief. His hand closes around my upper arm, supporting me, and I draw in a shuddering breath, trying not to think of the times that Gabriel has done something similar.

I can’t think of him now. Not when it’s very likely that he’ll never touch me again. That I may never see him again at all.

The sounds of heavy footsteps come closer; Igor’s men following us out. I open my eyes as Igor leads me towards the waiting car, a black SUV with tinted windows.

“Come along, Miss D’Amelio,” he says, his voice laughably formal. “It’s time to go home.”

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