Page 118 of Mine Again
Chapter Forty-Three
Isabella
Istorm out of the room, not caring how loudly the door crashes against the wall behind me when I shove it out of the way.
Let it. Let him hear it. Let it echo through every corner of his perfectly controlled kingdom how mad I am.
I don’t stop. Don’t think. I just move.
My bare feet slap against cold floorboards as I barrel down unfamiliar hallways.
I need air. Space. I need to be away from Luca.
The irony. Only yesterday, I would have given anything to have him back. Now I’m not sure if I should scream or sob.
God, I thought I’d never see him again. I grieved him like the dead man I believed he was.
And now my world is overturned. Every part of me is in revolt. My skin still burns from his touch, yet my chest aches like it’s caving in.
How am I supposed to make sense of any of this?
I reach the end of the corridor, and my escape comes to an abrupt halt. A massive door looms ahead. It’s clearly the way out, but there’s no handle. A seamless slab of steel and glass stares back at me like a bulletproof middle finger.
Seriously?
I smack my palm against it. Nothing. No response. I spin around, frustration clawing up my throat, my hands curling into fists.
He locked me in. Asshole.
I run my fingers along the edge of the door, searching for a hidden latch or button.
Nothing. Of course, Luca would have an over-the-top security setup.
A flicker of light catches my eye. To the right of the frame, a narrow panel glows faintly. I step closer and spot the faint outline of a hand.
I hesitate. No way this will work. But I press my palm to it anyway.
A soft click. The door unlocks with a mechanical sigh, cracking open wide enough for me to slip through.
Ha.
He scanned my biometrics.
When? I was unconscious.
What else has he done? Retinal scans? DNA swabs while I slept?
I step through the door. The cold hits me immediately.
A sharp wind slices across my bare legs, and my whole body shudders. The air smells fresh and wild, full of salt and pine, and something untamed. The kind of untouched wilderness you only find in the absolute middle of nowhere.
Where the heck has Luca taken me?
The sky hangs low with heavy clouds, dull gray and brooding, pressing against the treetops like a threat. The air is thick with mist and the faint scent of rain. A storm must have passed through recently. The stone landing beneath my feet is wet, and the wind keeps shifting, biting one moment, tugging the next, like it hasn’t decided whether to settle or tear everything apart.
A bit like me, really.
February. Somewhere remote. Somewhere wild. This doesn’t feel like anywhere I’ve ever been. Not that I’d ever left Sicily before going to Las Vegas.
