Page 62 of Prince of Vice

"Look, I don't know who gave the order, but I can find out! Just--"

"Actually," Primo interrupts icily, "I never intended on getting information from you. Not after what you said you'd do to my sweet Isabella."

The man's guttural screams pierce the air, but I can't see what's happening. My heart aches for Primo, torn between gratitude and horror. I sense him close by, and I choke back sobs.

A final gunshot silences the screams, leaving only Primo and me in the room. He comes to me swiftly, still keeping the hood in place for reasons unknown. Perhaps it's to save me from the sight of what he's done to my captors. His strong arms lift me up, carrying me up a flight of stairs. I can feel the chill of the morning air and sense the faint sunlight filtering through the fabric.

It's not until we're inside a car that he finally removes the hood. Overwhelmed, I collapse into his embrace, my body shaking with emotion. He holds me tight, murmuring apologies and reassurances as if to soothe away my pain.

Grabbing his phone, Primo calls Teddy, relaying the address before hanging up.

"Isabella," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion, "I'm so sorry I let this happen to you. You're safe now, and I swear I'll never let anyone hurt you again."

Chapter Thirty

Primo

As I pull the car into the mansion's garage, my heart races in anticipation. I swiftly dial a doctor as I gaze at the imposing facade, the dark stone contrasting sharply against the velvet night sky. Isabella, still shaken from her ordeal, tries to protest, but I silence her with a firm yet gentle command.

"Isabella, don't argue. We cannot be sure that you weren't harmed," I say, my voice laced with concern. "I'm just lucky I got to you in time."

I scoop her up effortlessly, cradling her delicate form as I carry her into the mansion. As we pass through the extravagant foyer, Isabella looks into my eyes, her voice a mix of gratitude and curiosity. "How did you know I was kidnapped? And how did you know where to find me?"

I hesitate for a moment, the shadows dancing across my face as I finally confess. "The necklace I gave you... it was more than just a token of my affection. It was a protective charm."

"Protective charm?" Isabella asks, her brow furrowing in confusion.

I sigh deeply. "The pendant has a tracking chip in it."

Suddenly, Isabella stiffens, pushing herself out of my embrace with fiery anger that catches me off guard. "How dare you put a GPS device on me like I'm a dog!" she exclaims, her eyes blazing with betrayal. "You should have told me! You lied to me about something this important. I thought we were supposed to have a deep connection built on trust. This doesn't make me want to trust you, Primo."

As she stands before me, her chest heaving with indignation, I feel a pang of guilt mixed with frustration. In my world, trust and safety were often at odds, but I hadn't expected Isabella to react so strongly to this. I struggle to find the right words to explain my actions while still respecting her feelings.

"Isabella, I don't understand why you're so upset," I say, my voice laced with confusion. "I monitor the movements of all my men. They're involved in dangerous business, and this is my standard of care. You mean more to me than anyone else working for me."

"Is that it then?" she asks bitterly, her anger simmering beneath the surface. "Am I just someone who works for you?"

The hurt in her eyes stings me, but I can't look away. I stumble over my words, trying to find a way to convey what she means to me without admitting the depths of my feelings. "No, that's not it at all," I say, frustration mounting as I struggle to express myself. "I can't explain what you mean to me, Isabella. But please, don't think that I don't care for you."

Her face falls, and I realize too late that she's misinterpreted my words as a rejection. The pain in her eyes is more than I can bear, but I know that I need to make things right between us.

"Isabella," I begin, my voice cracking with my emotions. But before I can continue, she tries to interject.

“No, Primo!”

A wave of anger surges through me, and I find myself yelling for silence. The sound echoes through the mansion, reverberating off the walls. She looks at me, stunned.

"Listen to me," I say, my voice now calm but firm. "I am not sorry for giving you a GPS device; I did it to protect you. I'm glad I did so because it may have very well saved your life. But I do apologize for not telling you about it." My heart aches as I add, "I care for you more than I care for my men, Isabella, and I don't want you to twist my words."

Just as I gather the courage to finally reveal the depth of my feelings for her, the doctor appears, his presence an unwelcome interruption. With a heavy heart, I reluctantly shift my focus from Isabella to the physician, knowing that the conversation we were having is far from over.

I lead the doctor and Isabella into the guest room where she'll be examined. The air in the room is thick with tension, a palpable reminder of the unresolved issues between us.

"Please, take care of her," I say softly to the doctor, my voice betraying both my concern and the vulnerability I've been trying so hard to hide. He nods solemnly and closes the door, leaving me alone in the hallway with my thoughts.

I pace back and forth, feeling like a caged animal. My mind races with worry for Isabella and anger at myself for allowing her to get caught up in my dangerous world. Minutes stretch into an eternity until finally, the door opens again and the doctor emerges.

"Mr. Maldonado, Isabella is okay," he says, his words a balm to my frayed nerves. "There's evidence she was chloroformed, but I see no signs she was violated in any way."

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