I just needed a glimpse of her running, or was she still hiding? Or did she already make it through the fence?
Shit.
I waited, watching for any movement. Nothing yet. But she couldn’t have gone far.
“Anyone got eyes on her,” I barked into my comm unit.
“She’s hiding in the tree,” the pilot answered.
The tree? Was he kidding me? Outside the fence, there was a whole forest full of trees.
I zoomed in on the only tree within the fence.
Movement.
“Let me out,” I barked, and the pilot lowered the helicopter to the ground.
I jumped before the skids touched down and landed in acontrolled crouch to absorb the impact. The rotors whipped the air above me, but I remained perfectly still.
There—a flash of movement through the tree, then she suddenly burst out of her hiding place, charging ahead like a deer running for safety.
My body tightened for a second before I increased my speed, every muscle poised for action. Where was she trying to go? Over the fence? “I’ll pursue on foot,” I barked, then took off.
The figure running full out before me matched the Salvini twins. Short, curvy, dark hair.
Would I be able to tell them apart? Probably. Maybe. I studied them during the short time I’d been a guest at La Dimora, and seeing them next to each other, you couldn’t mistake the subtle differences. Well, not in how they looked, but Isabella carried herself with calculated awareness, always watching, always planning, always alert. While Mirabella moved through the world differently—more inward, more cautious—but it could’ve very well been the situation and the circumstances. Still waters run deep and all that shit.
Same face, same body, different attitudes.
I pursued, closed the distance with each stride. She was so much smaller than I was—short, curvy, perfect—but there was zero chance she could ever outrun me.
Stubborn girl.
So why did I feel this strange reluctance as I closed in on her?
She slipped through the fence, her small body twisting through the gap with surprising agility. She hit a snag when her hair got caught in the metal of the fence but freed herself in an instant and charged ahead.
I reached the fence a second later. The opening was small, very small.
Damn it.
I followed, ducking through with considerably less grace. The sharp edge caught my jacket, tearing the expensive material. At thirty-one, I was getting too old for this kind of shit. Playing cat and mouse had been fine in my twenties. I enjoyed the rush of adrenaline, the hunt, and the challenge.
But hunting down innocent women was something else entirely. This wasn’t what I’d signed up for. It was high time to put my plans in motion—to finally extract my family from the Paraskia Syndicate’s clutches. We’d served long enough—shown our gratitude through absolute loyalty long enough.
After this mission was over, I would definitely set our plans in motion.
She ran toward the tree line, stumbled, and caught herself, her pace uneven but determined. She’d reach the forest in about ten seconds at her current speed. I sped up.
I didn’t intend to tackle her to the ground, and the impact when I caught her was more controlled than she probably realized. To prevent her from getting hurt, I slung my arm around her waist and pulled her up and against my chest while absorbing the momentum with my hand and kneeswhen we went down. Her body was small and cold in my arms, yet she fought with surprising strength.
“Let me go!” she hissed, twisting and bucking violently.
I blocked all of her moves with practiced ease—her movements were good, technical even, but she was no match for me. When she twisted to break free, I grabbed her hips and flipped her around, then pinned her to the ground in one fluid motion.
She didn’t hesitate and immediately went for my throat—smart girl.
But I was faster. I captured both her wrists in my hands while using my body weight to immobilize her lower half.
