Page 78 of Inferno

“How?” I throw my arms in the air.

“I’ll speak to Vlad. Meet me in the office after Isabella goes to bed.”

Drago stands and brushes off his suit jacket.

“That’s good. Like life can’t get any worse,” I mumble under my breath.

“Charlotte. Suck it up. You are alive and so is your little girl. Not a hair on her head has been harmed. I am doing my best, and so are you. Stop this fucking pity party. You’ll get yourself killed, and then what happens to her? What kind of mother does that?” he hisses, his eyes darkening, and I jump to my feet.

Within a second, I’m in his face, fists clenched by my side.

“Say it again, Drago, and I’ll fucking drop you on your ass. I might be a bit defeated at the moment. It’s been a rough few weeks. But I’m still in there.”

A slow smile spreads on his lips as he steps back.

“There she is. Keep going. Find her again. The fighter who takes no shit. I need her.”

I blink a few times.

“What has he got me wrapped up in?” I ask quietly, and Drago shakes his head, looking at Isabella.

“Not here.”

I suck in a breath. Here we go.

I’m trapped worse than ever before. Even after he murdered my father after the birth of Isabella—my punishment for getting pregnant and running from him. He knew he now had someone more important to keep me in place.

My daughter.

And the threat that she would suffer the same fate.

The seriousness on Drago’s face tells me this isn’t good.

Chapter 26

DECLAN

Song- Something in the Orange, Zach Bryan

“Fuck, I hate today,” Conan whispers beside me.

I clap him on the shoulder and squeeze.

“Even after five years, it doesn’t get any easier,” I say, looking down at our father’s grave on our estate. Right next to our mother.

Even though they both died in Dublin, we buried their ashes here, together. How it was meant to be.

“He’s with Mom. I bet they’re having a grand ball up there, aren’t you, Da?” Finn tips his cap to the gray stone.

He died protecting us. I shake my head. The old man knew what he was doing.

Sacrificing himself to stop the war.

He gave himself over to the Bowens and let that cunt Arthur lodge a bullet in his head.

It should have been for Conan. Clenching my fists by my side, anger radiates through me. If I wasn’t running from the copsin Italy, I might have made it home in time to stop him from making that decision.

My father may still be alive if she hadn't planted that bloodied knife.

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