Page 118 of Isabella

Shit.

“M-Mauricio, what are you doing here?” My heart rate starts to pick up.

“I’m shocked you came out here by yourself, Isabella. Where are your guards when you need them?”

I go to take a step back but am halted by the dumpster behind me.

Fuck. Think, Izzy, think.

“What’re you doing here?” I repeat, but I fear I already know the answer to that question.

“You and I are going to take a little ride,” he says while stalking toward me.

My stomach hollows out at his threatening tone. I dart my gaze to my left, trying to figure out my best chance of getting out of here since he’s blocking the door back into the building.

“Don’teven think about it,” he says before pulling a gun on me, which causes me to freeze.

Every muscle in my body locks up. My breath catches in my throat, and I would think my heart stopped beating if I couldn’t hear it pulsing in my ears.

I’ve never had a gun pulled on me before, and with the crazed look in Mauricio’s eyes, if I try and make a run for it, hewillshoot me.

He slithers his way up to me, closing the distance between us, and puts the barrel of the gun to the center of my chest. The smell of cigarettes assaults my nostrils, nearly making me choke.

“Good choice, Isabella. I really didn’t want to have to explain to my boss and yourlittle boyfriendthat I had to kill you before the fun even started.”

My heart sinks at his grimy words. I want to scream for help. I want to fight back. But with Mauricio’s finger on the trigger, I need to be smart about this.

“Now move,” he says. “My car’s over there.”

I wince when he rams the barrel of the gun into my chest, and reluctantly turn toward his vehicle.

Think, Izzy, think. How are you going to get out of this?

But instead of trying to figure out an escape route, my mind is trapped with the possibilities of what’s about to happen. What the hell do Mauricio and his dad have in store for Nicco and me?

69

NICCOLÒ

I’m frozen while my dad stands in the elevator, pointing a gun at my head, with his arm extended out just enough to keep the sensors from closing the doors on him.

“What’re you doing?” I ask, keeping my tone confused even though I know in my gut my dad has somehow figured out my plan.

“Don’t speak, Niccolò. I already know you have your newfound friends in there,” he says, gesturing behind me with his gun before settling it back on me. “Now, here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to hand me your phone, then you’re going to take that gun I know you have in the waistband of your pants and give it to me.”

My dad’s gaze runs down my body as if he’s trying to see if I’m hiding anything else underneath my clothing. “And then you’re going to take the knife I also know you have strapped to your ankle out and hand it to me. You make any move against me or any move to alert your new friends of what’s going on here, then your girlfriend dies.”

I take an aggressive step toward my dad, my anger over his threat against Isabella making me see red, but he waves his gun at me and says, “Nuh-uh-uh, Niccolò. If I don’t show up to the designated meet-up site in the next…” He brings his wrist up to glance at his watch before drawing his attention back to me. “Thirty minutes, I’ve given explicit directions to get rid of her.”

My face heats with anger, but my heart beats with concern for Isabella, which is why I do exactly as he said. Taking my phone out of my pocket and my gun out of my waistband, I hand them both to my dad. He drops my phone to the floor and slams his foot down on it several times, rendering it useless. I grind my teeth as I lean down and lift my pant leg to slide my knife out of its holster.

It takes everything in me not to use it on my old man, but with Isabella’s life relying on my compliance, I know I have to continue following orders. At least until I have eyes on my girl.

My dad takes the knife out of my hand and laughs. “The one thing I tried to teach you was to never let a bitch cloud your judgment. You just proved you haven’t learned a damn thing from me, Niccolò.” Stepping deeper into the elevator, he says, “Now, get in.”

When we get to my car, he directs me to get into the driver seat while he gets in the passenger seat.

“Follow the GPS,” my dad says once it syncs to the car.

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