We stepped carefully off the pier onto the beachwalk.
The wind had picked up, stinging my exposed skin on the path back to the compound.
That’s when I heard it—voices approaching. Male voices, low and urgent.
I grabbed Cara’s arm, pulling her to a stop. “Wait,” I whispered, straining to hear over the rain.
But it was too late. Figures appeared on the path—blocking our way back to the compound.
My heart slammed against my ribs as I recognized the silhouettes: Grey’s distinctive posture and beside him, the taller frame of Uncle Marcus.
“Shit,” I breathed, tightening my grip on Cara’s arm. “We need to go another way.”
But it was too late. They’d spotted us.
“Well, who do we have here?” Grey’s voice cut through the downpour as they approached, accompanied by several armed men. The smile on his face made my skin crawl. “Perfect timing. We were just talking about insurance.”
I instinctively stepped in front of Cara, but we were quickly surrounded by men with expressionless faces and rain-slicked weapons. My mind raced through escape options, calculated distances and angles, but the odds were impossible. The sea behind us, armed men in front—we were trapped.
Uncle Marcus had hung back slightly. He looked at me with that jovial smile that transported me instantly back to childhood. The fear I’d decided, just moments ago, I had conquered, roared back to life, paralyzing me where I stood.
But being afraid didn’t mean I wasn’t strong.
My throat closed. My heart pounded so hard, I could feel it in my fingertips. A cold sweat broke out across my body despite the warm rain, and for a moment, the world around me seemed to dim at the edges.
Grey’s guys grabbed Cara and me roughly by the arms. “You’ll come with me, little princess,” Grey said to me.
The phrase triggered something deep inside me—memories of Marcus using those exact words. My body froze, muscles locking in place as if I were eight years old again, trapped and helpless. I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t think beyond the primal terror flooding my system.
Marcus approached slowly, his expensive leather shoes soaked through. “Let’s go.”
29
IVAN
As more people filed in, the more the room felt like a pressure cooker. Thunder drowned out the noise as the Paraskia leadership arrived one by one. I stood rigidly at attention, my face a practiced mask of professional composure, while inside, I could feel the blood pumping through my veins.
Grey was on the run; was I really standing here, pretending to care about what was happening?
I met the steel-grey eyes of Valeria Alexandrovna Kozlova. Everything about her, from her cold, hard eyes to the steel-gray hair pulled back in a severe bun, matched her nickname. Ledyanaya Koroleva—the ice queen.
The Kozlova family was one of the leading Bratva families in Moscow. And the only one with a female leader, at least as the gray eminence behind the scenes. Two of the highest-ranking members of the Paraskia’s governing council flanked her, and her appearance was a complete surprise. Had the leadership changed?
Under normal circumstances, I would’ve been at least marginally interested in the political implications. But nothing about this situation was normal. And who was in charge was really not the most pressing priority.
Grey’s absence was. And it screamed danger even though it was highly unlikely Grey was stupid enough to try to leave the island in this weather.
I scanned the other council members’ faces, searching for any indication of why they were here, but their expressions revealed nothing.
My brothers had positioned themselves strategically around the room—Roman by the main entrance and Anton near the Salvinis, hovering close to the tech station. You didn’t have to be a genius to recognize their tense postures. They felt the same unease I did.
Even Vince Salvini looked tense when Kozlova approached him. Then, movement by the door caught my eye. Nina was pushing through the crowd of officials, her face deathly pale.
Something was wrong. Very wrong.
She reached me, leaned close to whisper in my ear. “Grey and Marcus took Isabella and Cara. They’re in boats heading toward that yacht offshore.”
The words hit me like physical blows. Time stopped. Blood roared in my ears, drowning out the storm outside and the polite conversation around me.Isabella. Taken.
