Page 2 of Savage Claim

“Enzo,” Damian said, and my head snapped to him. “I found it.”

I stood but looked back at Cristian. “Are you going to be okay?” I asked, and my brother waved us off, assuring me that he could take care of himself.

We were going to find Isabella, and when I brought her home, I would make sure she wouldneverbe able to leave again.

CHAPTER 2

Isabella

Ihad fucked up big time. Whatever came next was my own goddamn fault.

Pain radiated between my legs, stretching into my belly, but I forced myself to stand straight and look my father in the face.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded, wincing when I tripped over my own words.

My father clicked his tongue against his teeth. The sound sent a wave of revulsion through me. “I’m so…disappointed in you, Isabella,” he said.

A laugh lodged itself in my throat like a blade dug deep into my larynx, and I watched as his eyes narrowed. His mouth dropped into a frown, but with a blink, it was gone again. “You’redisappointedin me,” I said.

My father hummed and leaned back into my couch, and I got a glimpse of a holster threaded through his belt. My chest went tight: he had a gun.

“I always thought of you as a girl who would do anything for her family,” he said. The tone in his voice made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

All of the nihilistic humor that had struck me was gone in an instant, replaced with white-hot rage. “What in the hell is that supposed to mean?” Did he seriously think that he could scold me right now?

“You let that fucker Vitali get his hooks into you,” he spat. White spittle coated his chin, and he wiped it away with a vicious gesture. Anger flashed across his face again, more unhinged this time. I felt a tug in my belly, and I sank my teeth into the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out. I wasn’t going to get very far if I tried to run, not in this state, and even if he hadn’t pulled it out…I couldn’t forget about the gun.

“What did you expect me to do?” I asked. “What did youthinkLorenzo Vitali would do to me?”

He scowled. “He wasn’t supposed tokeepyou.”

“So, what was meant to happen?” I pressed. “Was Lorenzo supposed to take his pound of flesh and send me back to you?”

My father sneered. “Better that than to end up his whore.”

The look on his face made me laugh, even as I wanted to grab my belly as another tug sent pain radiating through me. “What’s wrong with being a whore?” I asked, panting slightly. “You can spend all of the money that you don’t actually have to buy women, but you have a problem with me doing what I need to do in order to survive? Isn’t that a bit hypocritical?”

He stared at me, head cocked. “Are you in pain?”

Fuck. “Would you care if I was? You were fine with me losing a kidney before.”

He scoffed. “But you didn’t, did you?”

“Oh, fuck you. You don’t have to pretend that you care about me.”

My father sprang up, and I flinched back, keeping distance between us. My eyes dipped to the holster on his belt again. Did I have any weapons in the apartment? The only thing that came to mind was the knife drawer in the kitchen, and knives weren’t going to do a thing against a gun. “You’re my daughter,” he insisted. “You’re mine to?—”

“To what?” The question came out in a shout.

The anger that drove his sudden movement seemed to evaporate. His face shifted into a facsimile of pity. “It’s my job to protect you, Izzie,” he said. “I’m your father.”

Bile rose in my throat. It happened every time I heard that godforsaken nickname that he only ever used when he wanted something from me. Like he was trying to butter me up. “Don’t call me that. You’ve never been a father to me. You ran up more than a million goddamn dollars in debt and tried tosellme to pay it off.” A humorless laugh bubbled from my throat, but it ended with a gasp as another cramp rolled through me.

I had to get out of here. A list of options ran through my head,

He stared at me for what felt like a long time, and then his mask dropped. Whatever had remained of my father was finally stripped away: his eyes went cold and dead. “I’m tired of this,” he announced.

I scoffed. “I think that’s the first thing we’ve ever agreed on.” He reached for the gun on his hip and pulled it out. He racked a bullet into the chamber, eyes on me the whole while. My heart jumped into my throat, but I kept myself still and stoic, taking a page out of Lorenzo’s playbook. “So, you’ve come here to kill me? You don’t think anyone will hear the gunshot?”

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