“We need to talk. It’s important.”
That’s Aunt Peggy code for:“We need money. Again.”
“Let me guess,” I say. “Michael’s failed another ‘startup’?”
She sniffs. “Don’t be cruel, Isabella. He’s trying.”
“He’s 26 and still doesn’t understand what the word ‘inventory’ means.”
“He’s had a rough year.”
“So did I. You don’t see me begging the family I tried to screw over.”
There’s a pause. Then the claws come out.
“Must be nice,” she spits. “Married to a rich man, acting like you earned it. I suppose spreading your legs was easier than getting a real job.”
My hand flies to the steering wheel, knuckles whitening.
I glance at the mirror again. SUV still there. Too close now.
“You don’t get to talk to me like that,” I say, voice low and shaking—but not from fear.
“Oh, please. Everyone sees what you are. Walking around in your designer shoes like you’re better than us. But we remember. We remember who you were before you spread your legs for the Bratva.”
There’s a pop in my ears like my rage just broke the sound barrier.
“I kept my siblings out of foster care,” I say. “I gave up everything for them while you sat in that house, sipping martinis and siphoning money from their trust.”
“You don’t scare me, Isabella.”
“You should.”
I end the call.
The silence after is volcanic.
I can feel my pulse in my neck, in my fingertips, in the tremble I won’t let take over my foot as I press the gas.
And then—
I see it. Out of the corner of my eye.The SUV pulls closer. Too close.
My lane curves right. It follows. Doesn’t pass. Doesn’t slow. Just hovers.
My heart stutters once. Then catches.
I don’t know if it’s Konstantin’s people or someone else.
I don’t know if I’m paranoid or finally seeing the world for what it is now—ruthless, layered in shadows, full of people who want things from me.
I pull up to the curb like a woman who doesn’t think about her ex-Getaway Driver car training and definitely doesn’t check every black SUV in the rearview mirror.
Parked. Engine off. Heart still going like it got stuck in fifth gear.
I step out.
Immediately—eyes.
