“Please,” Mila finally broke the silence with a smirk, “he’s been staring at her like she’s the last bottle of water in the desert.”
I set my glass down harder than necessary. “I’ve been assessing a flight risk.”
“Is that what we’re calling it now?” Mila’s laugh was sharp and knowing.
Anton grinned, leaning back against the couch cushions. “Well, I’d choose either of the Salvini twins over water any time of the day. Desert or not. Some things are worth dying for.”
Something hot and dangerous flashed through me. “Keep your eyes, hands, and opinions to yourself,” I snapped, my voice dropping to a growl. “They’re not here for your entertainment.”
Anton’s eyebrows shot up, and a meaningful look passed between him and Roman.
Mila’s smirk widened into something almost predatory. “Wow,” she said softly. “It’s worse than I thought.”
I gripped my glass tighter, torn between walking out and spilling everything I’d just discovered. The weight of it pressed against my chest—Isabella’s childhood act of bravery, Grey’s decades-long surveillance of her, the connection between us that predated our first meeting. My siblings were the only people in the world I truly trusted, but telling them would make this real in a way I wasn’t prepared to face.
I refilled my glass, knocked back the refill, and set the glass down. The silence stretched, my siblings waiting with the patience of hunters who sensed wounded prey.
“Fine,” I said finally, my voice rough. “You want to know what’s wrong? I just found out who Isabella Salvini really is.”
Nina leaned forward. “Well, since you’re going through Grey’s file on her, I would hope so. We already know she’s Iset. What else is there to know?”
“It’s more than that.” I ran a hand over my face, feeling the stubble scratch against my palm. “In 2008, the police received a tip from a little child. A child who handed a scribbled note to a police officer in a park in NYC.”
Everybody stared at me, their looks somewhere between interested and confused.
“That scrap of paper had the URL to a live feed of an underground fighting ring on it.” I paused for a second. Let it sink in. “Isabella Salvini was that child. The child who alerted the authorities.”
The room went completely still. Anton’s handful of chips froze halfway to his mouth. Roman’s face drained of color. Nina’s hand found Mila’s and gripped it tightly.
“What are you talking about?” Anton finally broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I found the reference in Grey’s file. The original police report, even a picture of the handwritten note. The anonymous tip that led to the raid came from an eight-year-old girl halfway across the world.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “I couldn’t believe it, but the reference is in her file, and the handwriting matches the sample on Isabella’s file. She was the one who found the website, who reported it.”
“That’s impossible,” Roman said, but his voice lacked conviction.
“She’s the reason we were rescued,” I continued, the words tumbling out now that I’d started. “The reason Grey found us. That’s where it all started.”
“Holy shit,” Mila breathed, her eyes wide.
Anton stood up abruptly, pacing the length of the kitchen. “How sure are you?”
“Ninety percent.”
“So that’s why the Paraskia Syndicate has her on file, starting when she was only a child?” Nina asked, her voice barely audible.
I met her eyes and nodded. “They had their eyes on her her whole life, have been watching her, manipulating her life. But I don’t know when Grey realized she was a hacker.”
“If she was the one who saved us,” Roman said, the undeniable truth hanging in the air between us, the implications too heavy to voice aloud.
“Then we owe her one,” Mila completed the sentence.
“She saved us,” I repeated, the words transforming from sound to meaning as they hung in the air.
The realization shifted something fundamental inside me. Isabella wasn’t just a hacker, a target, an asset to be acquired. She was the reason we’d survived at all. The reason we’d had a chance at life beyond those concrete walls and cages.
“I’ve been following Grey’s orders without question,” I said, my voice hollow. “Hunting the woman who saved us.”
