My father wasn’t the man I knew. Was Dante?
I slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me.”
Dante looked stricken.
“I’m done,” I said, my voice stronger than I felt. “I’m done with this life and want no part of it. Whatever criminals my father is involved with are men like you, and your world isn’t one I belong in. I want a simple life, Dante. One where I’m not always looking over my shoulder. I… I want out.”
His eyes flashed with hurt. “Alisa, please, we can talk about this in the car. Trust me.”
I laughed bitterly, the contempt clear in my voice. “Selling daughters, buying wives, fighting over territory? It’s all sick. I’ll disappear, use my degree, get a job somewhere no one will find me.”
“That’s not how this works,” Dante said with urgency. “Men like the Pavlovs, they don’t just give up. They have resources, connections. They’ll find you, and when they do—”
“What do you care?” I spat. “You’re one of them!”
I knew I was being unfair. Dante had saved and protected me. But in that moment, all I saw was the world that had claimed my father’s soul and now threatened to swallow me too.
“I’m nothing like them, you hear me?” Dante growled, stepping closer. “Nothing.”
“Oh, okay then!” I scoffed. “Prove it by letting me go.”
His jaw clenched. “I can’t do that.”
I pushed away from the wall, wiping angrily at my tears. “See? You’re just like them. You bought me, and now what? You think you own me? I’m leaving, Dante.”
I turned to walk away, but his hand shot out, grasping my wrist. “Alisa, please. You have no idea what these people are capable of.”
“Let. Me. Go.”
“I can’t lose you again,” he said, his voice breaking on the words.
Something in his tone made me pause. The raw emotion, the pain—it was too genuine.
But before I could respond, a car screeched to a halt at the curb beside us. The window rolled down, and I caught a glimpse of one of the men who had grabbed me outside my father’s office.
“That’s her!” the man shouted, and the back doors flew open.
Dante cursed, pulling me behind him as two men stepped out onto the sidewalk. “Run!” he yelled, shoving me toward his SUV.
My feet moved before my brain caught up, adrenaline flooding my system. I sprinted down the sidewalk with Dante right beside me. Behind us, I heard shouts and men chasing.
“It’s the Volkov crew,” Dante panted as we ran. “The ones who put you up for auction.”
“You think they work for the Pavlovs?” I gasped.
“I think so,” he huffed as we ran. “Your father, the Volkovs, the Pavlovs—they’re in this together, of course.”
We reached his SUV, and Dante opened the doors with the remote key. “Get in!”
I yanked open the passenger door and dove inside, slamming it shut just as a bullet snapped off the car frame. Dante slid behind the wheel.
“Stay down, Alisa,” he shouted as he peeled off. Near us, I heard more cars.
“Where are your bodyguards?” I cried out in fear.
“They’ll be following, but we don’t have enough men to throw them off our tails.” Dante’s eyes slid to the rear-view mirror.
I stayed down and pressed my face against my knees as more shots rang out. The windshield cracked but held as Dante floored the accelerator.
