Page 144 of Missile Strike

Someone had accessed Bella’s home. Let Trip escape. Not taken anything.

The note on Bella’s car.

Talia had been out of town for that one.

He frowned. Or had she? She’d flown out that day, according to Bella.

AegisShield wasn’t far from the airport. Talia could have swung by, left the note on Bella’s car, and then hopped on a plane.

Engines revved. The plane rolled down the runway, picking up speed until the nose lifted and the wheels left the ground.

Omar could have engineered the confrontation at Providence Bank with Talia’s help.

And tampered with Consuela’s brakes.

Damn it. Talia had gotten him a parking pass for the garage that day. She knew what his car looked like.

All the signs.

And he’d ignored every one of them.

He rubbed at the headache forming at his temples.

What the hell kind of game was she playing?

And where did her brother fit in?

Danny straightened in his seat. The homicide detective said that Hassan had been given a cardiotoxin delivered through a puncture to his chest.

Sweat broke out on his forehead.

The night of the gala, Talia put her hands on Hassan’s chest and shoved him away from Bella.

Was it possible?

Maybe Hassan hadn’t been stalking Bella.

Maybe he’d been trying to warn her.

His pulse lurched.

If Talia had killed her own brother, Bella didn’t stand a chance.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Awareness came slowly.

Pain registered first. Deep, insistent. Head throbbing. Cheek aching. Eyelids fused together.

And the air. Stale. Old.

Isabella was seated, the chair hard, its textured back pressing against her spine.

When she went to lean forward, her shoulders screamed—a sharp pull that stopped her cold. Arms wrenched behind the chair back, her hands bound. The tips of her fingers tingled.

Her feet were worse. She couldn’t feel them at all.

Dread sat on her lungs. Slowly, without lifting her head, she forced her lashes to separate and was met with heavy shadows.