Page 61 of Prince of Vice

"Look, I don't know about this," one of them grumbles, his tone impatient.

"Shut up, no one asked you,” another sneers.

I inch closer to the building, my anger mounting with each step. Their ineptitude is almost laughable – no outside scout, all of them bickering inside like children. At least their incompetence reassures me that Isabella is still alive.

"Whatever we end up doing with her," a third voice says, "we should at least have some fun with her first. Been a while since I had a good fuck, and she looks like just the type to satisfy."

That comment is enough to snap the last thread of my patience. My blood boils, fury coursing through my veins like molten lava. Whoever dared to abduct Isabella will pay dearly for their actions. The loan sharks had been dealt with, but maybe they didn't get the message clearly enough. Or perhaps this is motivated by the trial, a last-ditch effort to silence her and, consequently, me.

I grit my teeth at the realization that it's likely my connection with her that has placed her in such danger. The thought of losing her because of my own actions is unbearable. I can't – won't – let that happen.

"Alright, enough talk," one of them announces, his voice dripping with malice. "Let's have some fun."

"Over my dead body," I mutter under my breath.

As I breach the doors of the warehouse, gun raised and heart pounding, I know one thing for certain: tonight will end with either their deaths or mine. But no matter the outcome, I'll make sure that Isabella is safe.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Isabella

As I strain to make sense of the muffled voices around me, I realize that I'm tied to a rickety wooden chair, hands and feet bound with rough rope that digs into my skin. A gag presses against my lips, while a coarse bag obscures my vision. Through the fabric, I can just make out dim lights flickering, casting eerie shadows on the walls.

"Look, I don't know about this," a nervous voice breaks through the tense atmosphere. "Primo's lawyer goes missing, and you think he's just gonna sit back and do nothing? He'll retaliate, hard."

"Shut up," another voice snaps. "No one asked for your opinion."

From their fumbling conversation and haphazard plan, I can tell they're desperate, acting without proper forethought. This realization ignites a spark of hope within me, fueling my determination to escape.

"Whatever we end up doing with her," a third voice says, his words dripping with sinister intent, "we should at least have some fun with her first. Been a while since I had a good fuck, and she looks like just the type to satisfy."

As panic claws its way up my throat, my heart pounding wildly in my chest, I force myself to focus on wriggling my wrists against the ropes. Their careless binding works in my favor as I manage to free one hand. Just as I'm about to cautiously loosen the knots around my feet, the voices abruptly cease.

With bated breath, I wait, listening intently to the sudden silence.

Frozen in place, my heart hammers against my ribcage as I fear they've sensed my escape attempt. Instead, one of them mutters about an unexpected visitor at the door.

"Who the hell is that?" the nervous voice hisses.

"Nobody should be here," another growls.

And then, like the sweetest music to my ears, I hear Primo's smooth, commanding voice. Relief courses through me, threatening to bring tears to my eyes.

"Who do you work for?" he asks calmly, his tone laced with danger.

"Go to hell!" one of the captors snarls.

"Wrong answer."

The sound of a gunshot slices through the room, followed by a thud as a body hits the floor. I flinch, unease and hope warring within me.

"Next," Primo says coolly. "Who sent you?"

"I-I don't know!" stammers the second voice.

"Wrong again."

Another gunshot rings out, and I shudder as another lifeless form collapses onto the cold concrete. The third man, the one who threatened to violate me, begins to ramble desperately.

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