Page 57 of Savage Proposal

“Did your father have debts anywhere else?”

Isabella actually laughed. “I think the better question would be wheredidn’tmy father have debts? If there was a place to gamble in New York City, legal or otherwise, he placed a bet there.”

“How often did that get you in trouble?”

She rolled her eyes and stretched. My eyes tracked the movement of her shirt as it pulled up enough to show a sliver of skin; I got caught on the start of her knot of scars, and my stomach burned. “We were evicted half a dozen times, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Is that all?”

“I mean,” she said, looking around the room, “I did wind up here.” Her eyes met mine again. “Look, I don’t know what your point is, but my father isn’t dangerous. He’s an asshole, and he’s self-destructive, but he hasn’t actually hurt anyone.”

My hands balled into fists. “You can’t possibly believe that.”

“I think I know my father.”

“I think you know a version of your father,” I shot back. “You think he’s some harmless?—”

Cold anger snapped across her face. “Ineversaid my father was harmless. He did a lot of fucking harm over the years. I said he wasn’tdangerous. My father doesn’t have the capacity to plan or execute anything like that. The drugs have addled his brain at this point.”

I wasn’t sure if Isabella was being naive, or if she was refusing to see sense because it hurt too much to admit that her father was an evil, narcissistic bastard. “He had no idea what would happen to you when he decided to give you to me,” I reminded her. “I could have turned you around and sold you to the highest bidder.”

She shivered, revulsion clear on her face. “He wasn’t exactly sober in that video,” she said, stubborn to a fault. “He probably doesn’t even remember saying it.”

“Isabella, I have reason to believe that your father was the reason you were attacked when you were eighteen.”

CHAPTER 35

Isabella

If Lorenzo had punched me in the face, it would have been less painful. “Shut your fucking mouth,” I said. My chest and throat were feeling tight; I felt like I couldn’t pull in a proper breath. “You can’t know that.”

I waited for Lorenzo to get angry, but instead, he sat on the edge of the bed with an expression that was the closest thing topitythat I had ever seen on his face. It infuriated me. Howdarehe feel badly right now? I curled my hands into fists to keep myself from hitting him. “I had Damian look into some things for me. The Russian Mafia was the only player using harvesters at the time of your attack.”

It felt like my belly had filled with ice. “Harvesters?”

“Some organizations will sell organs on the black market,” he explained. “You said they hit your renal artery, right?”

I started to shiver, and I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to stop the trembling. I couldn’t force the words out of my mouth, so I nodded.

“Did they pin you to the floor on your belly?”

My face was wet; I had no idea when I started crying, but I couldn’t stop. “How did you?—?”

“If they’d just wanted you dead, they wouldn’t need to do any of that,” he explained slowly, as if he were speaking to a child. “They were trying to take your kidney.”

My throat constricted even more, and black spots danced in front of my eyes. “That can’t be right,” I wheezed. “Why would they do that to me?”

“Debt collection,” he said. “Organs are too messy for an everyday business, but they net serious cash. If someone was trying to clear a debt quickly, it would be the way to do it.”

I couldn’t feel my body anymore. I heard a high-pitched whine in my ears. “What if…” I swallowed hard, tasting bile. “What if someone just decided to?—?”

“To try to sell organs on their own?” he asked. When I nodded, he reached out and put a hand on my leg. “I’m sure people have tried, but the underground organ trade is big business and newcomers aren’t welcome. Without an organization behind them, the harvesters would find themselves missing their own body parts and whatever remained of them would have been tossed in an incinerator.”

I tried to swallow back the lump rising from my stomach. “You think my father sold me to the Russian Mafia to pay off his debts?” I asked, voice hollow.

His fingers squeezed around my ankle, and I knew his answer without him having to say it. More spots started to dance in front of my eyes. My breath locked in my chest.Well, at least I’m on the bed if I pass out.

On the verge of fainting, I felt Lorenzo’s arms as he wrapped them around me. He pulled me against the solid plane of his chest. “Breathe with me,” he commanded, voice gentle. For a few moments, I forced air into and out of my lungs following the steady rise and fall of his chest as a guide.

---