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ISABELLA
Jorge Dos Santos.
That’s the name of the man I’ve been following back to his house for the last hour. After parking my motorcycle, I pull on my ski mask and then jog toward the side of the villa. Hoisting myself over the wall, I crouch down and quickly move to behind a tree.
Quietly, I pull my binoculars out of my bag, and then I canvas the area, taking in the positions of the guards stationed around the mansion.
Dos Santos has half an army, which means I’ll have to move as quietly as I can. At the first gunshot, all hell will break loose.
Pulling my KA-BAR from its holder, my fingers tighten around the knife, and then I keep low as I creep toward the back of the house that’s less guarded than the front.
Reaching the sidewall, I glance at the pipe and windows that I can use to scale up to the second floor. I bite onto the handle of my knife and grab hold of the pipe running up to the second floor.
I keep my breaths slow and deep, focusing on not making a sound as I pull myself up the pipe. When I reach the second floor, I have to swing my body toward the balcony, almost missing grabbing hold of the ledge. My fingers tighten around the wrought iron of the railing, and I let out a slow breath. When I hear movement inside, I hold still, my arms straining from hanging off the side of the balcony.
I hear a girl sniffling, and then a slap rings from the room. Slowly, I pull myself up until I’m able to climb over the railing. I quickly press my body against the wall then take the knife from my mouth. Cautiously, I lean forward until I have a view of the inside of the room through the glass doors.
Dos Santos is alone in the room with the two girls, and he’s currently unbuttoning his shirt.
Fucker.
My muscles tighten from having to hold back because if I move now, he’ll definitely see me coming. The last thing I need is for him to alert his guards that I’m here.
It feels as if a fist is tightening around my throat, and my breaths grow shallow as I watch Dos Santos undress.
The youngest girl stands rooted to the spot, silent tears falling over her cheeks. The older one stares at the carpet, her face expressionless as if she’s mentally left the room.
I’m here.
Dos Santos slaps the older girl, which only makes the younger one sob. The bastard is mentally playing them up against each other.
When he’s focused on the youngest girl, pretending to console her while groping her chest, I slowly inch forward until I’m able to take hold of the door lever.
Don’t let it be locked.
Little by little, I press down on the lever, and when the door softly clicks open, I say a silent prayer of thanks.
Moving fast, I come up behind Dos Santos, and before he can realize I’m here, I drag the blade of my KA-BAR across his throat. I cover his gaping mouth with my hand to muffle his garbled breaths and plunge the knife into his heart to finish him off. I lower his body to the carpet and then look at the girls. Bringing my finger to my lips, I show for them to not make a noise.
They’re still dressed in the white cloaks my mother had them wear for the auction.
I crouch down in front of the girls, then whisper, “Hold hands and stay behind me. I’m going to get you out of here.”
The older girl’s eyes flick to mine, then she whispers back, “You’re helping me?”
“Both of you. Stay behind me at all times. Okay?”
When she nods, I add, “Take her hand and don’t let go. If anything happens to me, you take her and run as fast as you can.”
The older girl nods again, emotion returning to her face. It makes her eyes shimmer with unshed tears.
“You’re so brave. You can do this. Okay?” I try to offer her some encouragement.
She nods as she takes hold of the younger girl’s hand in a tight grip.
I turn my focus to the youngest, then say, “Don’t make a noise.”
She nods quickly, and then I get up and walk to the door.
I press my ear to the wood, listening for any movement outside the room, then I take a fortifying breath before I yank it open.
Darting into the hallway, there are two guards. I manage to plunge my knife into the one guard’s eye, and then the other one’s fist connects with my left ear. I stumble to the side, then swinging around, I bring my right leg up, slamming the heel of my boot against his temple. The kick sends him sprawling onto the tiles, motionless. Pulling my knife from the dead guy’s eye socket, I walk to the unconscious one and slit his throat open.
I glance at the girls as I rise to my feet and begin to move down the hallway. The older one drags the younger girl behind her as she follows after me.
Reaching the top of the stairs, I become aware of my heart pounding against my ribs as I cautiously lean forward to see what’s on the first floor.
Two guards are stationed at the foot of the stairs.
I inch back behind the wall, and taking off my backpack, I pull a silencer from it and attach it to the front of my Heckler & Koch.
I take five seconds to even my breathing and to calm my racing heart.
Focus, Isabella.
Slowly, I suck in another deep breath of air, and then I move. As soon as I have a clear shot at the guards, I pull the trigger. As the first guard falls, I bury a bullet in the temple of the second one as he begins to turn.
Moving down the stairs, I hear hurried footsteps coming from the left, and as the men appear, I begin to fire shots. I’m aware of the girls behind me as I keep taking one guard after the other down. While I’m reloading the clip of my Heckler & Koch, the front door bursts open, and a bullet clips my right arm before I can take out the man shooting at us.
Too close.
I move toward the open front door, every single one of my senses on high alert. I keep checking behind us, so I’m not caught off guard as we step out of the house.
Holding the Heckler & Koch in my right hand, I pull my Baretta from the side of my left boot, and then I open fire on the remaining guards.
A bullet slams into my left shoulder, and I clench my teeth at the sharp pain while not losing my focus. I keep pushing forward until the last man drops.
Putting my Baretta away, I yell at the girls, “We have to run!” I hurry them toward the main gates as I pull my phone out, calling Ana.
“Are you okay?” she answers, her voice strained with worry.
“I’m bringing them out. Meet me at the front of the house.”
“Okay.”
Ending the call, I rush to the security booth and open the main gates. Seconds later, Ana pulls up, and I herd the girls toward the van. Ana stays behind the steering wheel as I open the side door, and then I shove the girls inside.
I spare a second to say, “You’re safe now.” Slamming the door shut, I pound a fist against the metal so Ana will leave, and then I run toward my motorcycle.
Following behind the van, I escort Ana and the girls back to the safe house so I can protect them should there be a hit while we’re on the road. Luckily nothing happens, but I only feel a sliver of relief when we pull up the driveway.
My thoughts turn to the other two girls I couldn’t save as I become aware of the pulsing pain in my shoulder.
As I climb off my motorcycle and remove my helmet, movement from the street grabs my attention. I drop the helmet and have my gun drawn and ready within the next second.
My breath shudders from me when I see the two older girls running toward me.
Oh. My. God.
My eyes instantly begin to burn as intense relief washes through me. I’m only overwhelmed for a moment before I dart forward to make sure there’s no one behind the girls that’s a threat.
When the street is clear, I turn back to the girls, then ask, “How did you get here?”
“Men brought us. They said you’d help us get home.”
Nodding, I gesture toward the house, still holding my gun ready in my right hand. “Let’s get you inside where it’s safe.”
I glance up and down the empty street again and then back to the girls.
I can’t believe it.
Thank God.
There are only two men I can think of. Alexei and Demitri.
Alexei Koslov helped me?
Why?
Probably so I’d owe him a favor and help him take down my mother.
Then it really sinks in – all the girls are safe with Ana and me, and it doesn’t matter what I owe Alexei.
Emotion bubbles in my chest, and I bite back the thankful tears knowing all four girls have been saved from a horrendous life as sex slaves.
