I forced myself to think strategically, the way I did when hacking a particularly difficult system. Break the problem into manageable pieces. Find the vulnerabilities. Exploit them when the moment comes.
Rule one: Know your target. I studied Marcus covertly, noting how he remained relaxed despite the storm, how his eyes never left me. He was enjoying this—enjoying my fear, my helplessness. The thrill.
He’d probably always been that way—finding pleasure in power over others. Was that why he targeted children? Because of power? Or was he just plain sick?
Rule two: Identify the system weaknesses. The seasick guard was one. The storm itself was another—unpredictable, chaotic, potentially creating unexpected opportunities.
Rule three: Plan your approach carefully. I needed to get to Cara, which meant I needed to get on that damn yacht. I would have to be patient, to wait for the right moment rather than act rashly out of fear.
The yacht loomed closer now, massive and gleaming despite the downpour. I searched for signs of Cara’s boat but saw only crew members securing equipment against the storm.
Grey wouldn’t be crazy enough to choose a different target than the yacht, would he?
Lightning flashed, illuminating the scene in stark white light before plunging us back into the storm’s gloom. In that brief moment, I caught a glimpse of Marcus’s face—and the naked anger in his expression made my skin crawl.
“You’re being very quiet, Isabella,” he said, leaning forward. “No clever remarks? No resistance? I must admit, I’m disappointed. The way Grey described you, I’d expected a bit more…spunk.”
I met his gaze, hiding my revulsion behind a mask of indifference. “What do you want me to do, jump overboard?”
“No, no. I’d like you to behave,” he replied, his tone conversational. “This doesn’t have to be unpleasant.”
I had to stifle a harsh laugh at the absurdity of his statement. Instead, I met his gaze directly for the first time, refusing to cower. “Touch me, and I’ll kill you.”
He laughed as if I’d said something charming. “You always did have spirit. I respected that about you, even as a child.”
Bile rose in my throat, but I swallowed it down. Stay present. Stay aware. Find a way.
The boat slowed as we approached the yacht, and I tensed, preparing for whatever came next. Approaching and coming up alongside the yacht in this rough sea would be difficult, and potentially dangerous.
But if they separated me from Cara permanently, my chances of helping her would vanish. I needed to get to her, to make sure she was okay. I looked back, searched for Cara’s boat but didn’t see it. I glanced back toward the island. It looked impossibly distant now, the compound’s lights barely visible through the curtain of rain. Ivan was there somewhere.
Had Ivan realized we were missing yet? Would he connect the dots? The thought of him gave me an odd comfort as if the memory of his strength could somehow bolster my own.
The boy in the fighting ring had survived hell. If that boy was Ivan, he’d survived worse than this. And so would I.
I wouldn’t just wait passively for rescue. I was Isabella Salvini. I was Iset. I’d spent my life outwitting men who underestimated me, and I wasn’t about to stop now.
I straightened my spine and lifted my chin. Marcus had almost broken me once, but I’d rebuilt myself stronger. And whatever came next, I would face it with the same determination I’d admired in that fighting boy all those years ago.
Sometimes, you draw strength from the strangest places. I found mine in the memory of a half-starved boy who refused to break.
And neither would I.
31
IVAN
“Director,” I acknowledged her position, “request permission to lead the retrieval team.”
“Denied,” Director Kozlova responded coolly. “You’re too close to this situation, Zotov. And I don’t trust you.”
Paraskia be damned. Fuck the protocol. Fifteen years of perfect loyalty meant nothing compared to Isabella’s safety.
“With respect, ma’am, I wasn’t asking,” I stated, bowed, and moved toward the door. I caught Birdie’s slight smirk from the corner of my eye—approval of my insubordination. If anyone would understand me, it was her. When she went after her brother’s killers, against Hawk’s orders, she became a legend in organized crime circles. Especially since she took on a whole cartel to finish the job.
She’d been willing to burn down her life for family. I was ready to burn down my life for the woman I’d known for less than a week.
My woman.
