Dmitri is his righthand man, before him was Vlad, a man who was actually worse than Dmitri because he was psychotic.
My father has six people who travel with him as bodyguards and they look like they came straight out of hell. All they do is guard. Their tongues have been sliced out of their mouths in a vow to silence. Their only purpose in life is to protect my father if danger comes.
That is the extent of my knowledge.
“Do you really expect me to believe that no one knows where he is?” Tristan challenges. His teeth are bared and his hands fisted at his sides.
“I don’t care if you believe it. It’s the truth.”
“Stop lying!” he shouts, and his voice reverberates through me making me shudder.
“I’m not lying,” I wince. “That’s how he stays safe. No one knows about me too, at least they shouldn’t.”
“You’re telling me you don’t see him at all?” He gives me an incredulous glare.
“We never meet in the same place and the majority of our meetings are by video calls. I don’t know where he is. I don’t know anything.”
“I’m supposed to believe that shit from Mortimer Viggo’s daughter?” He rages and comes closer.
Adrenaline races through me and I do the only thing I can and run.
I run to the door, grab the handle, and yank it open. I manage to get out on to the corridor, another stony path. I’m about to break out into a sprint when a large hand secures around my middle and I’m lifted into the air.
I scream and kick with all my strength, fighting him.
“Let me go!”
“You fucking tell me where your father is.”
“I don’t know anything.” The tears come hard now and the panic of what’s going to happen to me takes route in my soul.
The shuffling against his grasp makes this stupid gown ride up my thighs to the point where I’m exposed. Anyone, if there’s anyone else here, would see my bare ass and everything else.
“Let me go!” I wail. “Please let me go. Don’t hurt me.”
I fight for my life. My life that I don’t own, but it’s always felt like as long as I drew breath my life would be mine one day.
“Tell me where your father is.”
“I don’t know where he is.”
“You’re lying.”
“No. Please, let me go,” I beg.
He carries me back in the room and throws me down on the bed. In seconds he’s on top of me and my hands are pinned above my head.
The monsters from my father’s world were always lurking around the corner. Now one has me. Tristan D’Agostino has me and I can’t give him what he needs. I can’t even try to save myself. I hate my father so much right now. I hate him even more than I already did.
I hate myself more when Tristan presses his face to my cheek and my body reacts to him, confused by a memory from last night. His warm breath caresses my skin and I remember how he danced with me and he kissed me.
I was going to go home with him. To sleep with him.
How could I be so stupid?
It was all an act. A trap set for me because he saw I was lonely and desperate.
“Tell me what I need to know,” he demands. “Isabella, tell me where your father is.”