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My phone beeps, and my heart leaps into my throat, reading the text.
Uncle Dante:Mia Cara… I’m outside.
“Samantha, did you tell your father I’m here?”
She lowers her head. “Izzy, it slipped. I’m sorry.”
I tamp down my anger, but I believe her. “I guess it was only a matter of time. My uncle wants to talk to me.”
“About what?” She stands up.
“I don’t know.”
Me:What do you want?
Uncle Dante:To talk to you. See how you are. See if you need anything.
He sounds too reasonable. I glance out the window and don’t see anything.
Me:Where outside?
Uncle Dante:In the back courtyard. I see one of those Irish pigs is still guarding you.
This is no way to live. Afraid of my family. Both of them. I’ve learned a lot in the past few months. I have the strength to stand up to my father and uncle and perhaps figure out a way for them to talk to the Russians. Come to some kind of understanding about Stasia.
Me:I’ll be right down.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes.” I stick my phone in my back pocket and take the elevator down to the lobby. When the door opens, I quickly hook a left toward the back hallway to reach the courtyard. I consider texting Connor, who’s on duty guarding me, that Uncle Dante is here, but I decide against it. He’s my uncle, for crying out loud. He won’t hurt me.
The courtyard backs up to a walking path along a part of Upper New York Bay. It’s usually well lit, but it feels dim tonight. Maybe it’s my mood.
Uncle Dante stands with his arms folded near the gate to the walking path. He must have come up that way to avoid Connor. His face is unreadable. With my back arched, I stop a few feet from him.
“Isabella,” he greets me with a nod.
“Hello. How’s Papa?”
“Busy,” he says, and I wonder if my father knows he’s here.
“What do you want?”
“I want you.”
“What… What do you mean?” I take a step back, but my heart starts to pound out of nowhere. Adrenaline soars through me. God, I’m having a panic attack. That’s when I notice the pain in my neck.
I reach up, and there’s…something sticking out of my skin.
I pull it out. It’s a tiny needle with a red rubbery end, and the tip is dripping. I look around, and in my blurred vision, there’s another man coming at me from the left. Connor? No, too short.
“What is this?” I say, but my words are slurred. “What’s going on?”
My sight turns cloudy, and I reach for something to hold on to. Uncle Dante approaches me, his arms stretched out. I’m fading. Falling. I try to scream, but nothing comes out. I can’t keep my eyes open now.
Then…nothing.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Kieran
