Belle didn’t have a gun, just her fists. They’d always been enough. She hadn’t trained in a while, her growing curves proof, but she was still strong, and nobody could take away her deep-seated skill set.
Donald’s car was parked outside a restaurant. The place looked expensive. She could see people eating at their tables from beyond the large glass windows. Most of the men were in suits. It was the type of place her parents would frequent.
Belle couldn’t stand rich snobs. They reminded her of all the heartless pigs making bets around the ring. There were so many things more precious than money, but not to them. Money was everything. They believed the dollar was more important than human life.
Belle asked her Uber driver to wait for her outside.
She entered the restaurant, feeling a sense of unease as people turned to look at her. Belle looked out of place, but she wasn’t there to impress anyone, just make a statement. She took a cleansing breath and ignored the staff questioning her as she scanned the room for Donald. He was sitting near a back window with one other man.
He had to know where Ava was. Her father was using her as bait to protect this pig. They wanted Belle dead, but they didn’t realize what she was capable of. She imagined choking the life from the rich asshole.
“Excuse me? Can I help you?”
Belle ignored the waiter, bumping him with her shoulder as she headed for the far table. Once next to Donald Ford, she waited until he noticed her standing there.
He squinted, putting on an act of being confused.
“You know who I am,” she said.
“Do I?”
“You’re very cozy with my father. Don’t remember him? Randal Aiello?”
He smiled. “Of course. You must be little Belle. I remember you fighting when you were this high.” He motioned with his hand at her waist level.
She shook her head. “You want me to play along? To pretend I didn’t see what I saw? I know a lot about you.”
“Let’s talk outside.” His demeanor changed, his smile fading away. Did he think she was afraid of him? Intimidated? She knew for a fact she could take him down within seconds if she had to.
She slapped her hand on the table when he attempted to stand up, the water in their glasses sloshing. A hush settled over the entire restaurant, making her hyperaware of everything from her breathing to the countless people staring. “You can run for office and pretend to be anyone you want,” she whispered. “I really don’t give a fuck about you, your fetishes, or the demons in your closet. I just want you to know that if anything happens to me or my daughter, you’ll be the first person the cops turn to. Keep out of my life, or I guarantee I can ruin yours in less time than a three-minute round.”
“I don’t know what you’re—”
“Just fucking stop. You may fool everyone else, but not me. I know the man under the cheap suit. You remind me of my father, and that’s not a good thing, I promise you that.”
She wanted to kill him. Maybe it was the only way to end this once and for all. But then she’d be on the run, and ending up in prison wouldn’t help her daughter.
“Listen…”
“Where’s Ava?” she shouted, pounding the table again. “Where’s Ava? Where’s Ava?”
The muffled sound of a walkie-talkie pulled her from her thoughts. They were calling security, so she needed to get out of the restaurant. She’d come without a plan. So desperate to get to her daughter. Part of her wanted to kill, to use the training she’d been given for death matches. But she had to use her head and do things right.
She should have listened to Drago.
Belle felt lost and confused as she left the side door of the restaurant. She didn’t want to be alone. This whole ordeal was stealing the life from her. If only she could just close her eyes and wake up in paradise—a simple home, her daughter, Drago. A life without fear.
She got into the backseat of her Uber. “One more stop,” she said. Belle gave the driver the address of her childhood home—if she could even call it a home. A chill already chased up her spine just remembering the cold white walls, the gym in the basement, the bloodstains. Her father pushed her to the point that she hated her workout sessions. They were brutal, grueling, and no matter how much she begged for a break, she never got one.
By the time they arrived on her street, she asked the driver to stop several houses away.
Belle walked to the side of the house, planning to get inside through the side entrance. She’d use the leverage they’d dug up and demand he return Ava to her. He’d have to respond to her threats, at least long enough to give her daughter back. She’d worry about the aftermath afterwards. She’d turn a blind eye to everything else if it meant getting her little girl back. It was time to be the woman she’d needed when she was a kid. No one had ever been there to save Belle.