LOGIN“I want to go to university,” I say, the words slipping out over breakfast.
If looks could kill, I’d be six feet under. My father glares at me like I’ve just spat in his face.
“You have everything you need in this house,” he says, and I notice his grip on the knife tighten. “University would be a waste of time.”
“Not for me,” I mutter, rolling my eyes. “I want to do something for myself instead of just sitting here all day.”
He slams his hand on the table, making me jump. “You want to do something useful?” He grabs the napkin in front of him and wipes his mouth roughly. “Resume training. I’ll send you on missions alongside my men.”
I shake my head, a chill running down my spine. The thought of training again terrifies me.
Training has never been gentle. They don’t just push your body—they break your mind, too. I’ve been ‘training’ since I was five. Every day was harder, rougher, more brutal. I begged him to stop when I was fifteen. He didn’t. I kept going, and last year it nearly killed me. A month in a coma, all thanks to his idea of discipline. I woke to see fear in his eyes—maybe the only emotion I’ve ever gotten from him.
“Then shut the fuck up!” He snaps. “Eat.”
“Yes, father,” I murmur.
—
Months passed. Same routine.
I haven’t been allowed to go outside yet.
“I want to go out, dad,” I grit through my teeth. “I can’t stay inside my entire fucking life.”
“Oh, you won’t,” he says, a grin creeping across his face that makes my stomach turn. “You’ll be getting married. I’ve already fixed your engagement.”
“What?” My fists clench at my sides. “What the fuck do you mean I’ll be getting married?”
His hand is around my throat within seconds. “You will marry. Watch your tongue, girl.”
“I’ll not marry anyone, father,” I manage to speak, forcing my voice to remain firm. “I’d rather die.”
A cold laugh spills out of his mouth. “You wanted to be useful, didn’t you?” He asks, his eyes glinting with amusement— the cruel kind of amusement. “I found a way to make you useful, Isabella.”
“That’s not what I meant!” My voice is louder now. “I’m nineteen years old. I don’t want to marry anyone.”
His grip tightens. “Don’t disobey me. It’s good for business.”
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll tell my future husband about all the things you’ve been doing to me?” I threaten, watching his expression carefully— hoping for something. Anything. But there’s absolutely nothing on his face. Only cold, calculating eyes stare back at me.
“You can talk all you want,” he finally says, releasing me. “He’ll do worse to you. We have a deal, after all.”
No. No. No.
No more. I can’t take it.
“I’m your fucking daughter!” A tear slips my eyes as I run a hand through my hair, gripping the strands tightly. I want to fucking scream. “You can’t do this to me. You can’t. You can’t. You’re lying. You’re my father. You wouldn’t do this to me.”
He looks at me like I’m crazy. Like I’m insane. Like I’m worthless. He’s always looked at me this way.
Maybe I am insane. Maybe, I really have gone insane thanks to everything he’s been doing to me.
“It’s done.”
I never thought two words would be the reason behind me losing hope before. And yet, here we are.
Chapter fiveMy fiancé is ten years older than me, and it doesn’t help that he’s in the Italian mafia. The underboss, I’ve been told. An absolute dickhead.I’m on the verge of a panic attack at my own engagement party, and no one seems to care. Not even my father. He’s too busy posing for the cameras, pretending this is a happy day—for him. Not me. This is a nightmare.By the time I make it upstairs to my bedroom, I’ve lost count of how many times I muttered “excuse me.” I slam the door shut and head straight to the mirror.Nowhere feels safe anymore.I feel… trapped. Lost.I let out a cold laugh and dig my nails into my wrist again. Physical pain feels easier to bear than the storm of emotions inside me.My mother wasn’t allowed to attend. The one person I need.“Fuck!” I scream, grabbing the nearest glass and hurling it against the wall. The music downstairs masks the sound. I’m tempted to throw more.“You’re a violent little thing, aren’t you?”I freeze.The voice. I know it. The s
Chapter four“I want to go to university,” I say, the words slipping out over breakfast.If looks could kill, I’d be six feet under. My father glares at me like I’ve just spat in his face.“You have everything you need in this house,” he says, and I notice his grip on the knife tighten. “University would be a waste of time.”“Not for me,” I mutter, rolling my eyes. “I want to do something for myself instead of just sitting here all day.”He slams his hand on the table, making me jump. “You want to do something useful?” He grabs the napkin in front of him and wipes his mouth roughly. “Resume training. I’ll send you on missions alongside my men.”I shake my head, a chill running down my spine. The thought of training again terrifies me.Training has never been gentle. They don’t just push your body—they break your mind, too. I’ve been ‘training’ since I was five. Every day was harder, rougher, more brutal. I begged him to stop when I was fifteen. He didn’t. I kept going, and last year i
Chapter threeIsabella “You don’t get it, do you?” My father barks at me, and I have to force myself to remain neutral. Don’t show any emotion, Isabella. He’ll be more pissed. “I’m sorry,” I say, looking anywhere but at him. “It won’t happen again.”He laughs coldly. “I told you, time and time again, that you are not to come downstairs when I’m in a meeting.”“I didn’t know you were in a meeting, dad,” I sigh, running my fingers through the strands of my hair. “Really. I didn’t know.”“Did anyone see you?” He asks, watching me with a void of emotion on his face. “Answer me, girl. Did any of the men see you?”I shake my head, lying. No one saw me downstairs. The pretty stranger did see me though. But I don’t tell him that. He doesn’t have to know. It’s not like the stranger saw me while I was standing in front of the meeting room. I was in my room. So technically, I didn’t break any of my father’s stupid rules. “What was that?” He presses.My jaw clenches. “No one saw me downsta
Chapter twoLandon“How would you describe yourself?” I almost roll my eyes at the older woman sitting in front of me. She calls herself a therapist— something I don’t need. And yet, here I am. My friend insisted considering the woman is his fucking aunt. All that woman is a professional eavesdropper is all. I keep my calm as I answer. “Hot.” “Landon, I can’t help you if you’re not honest with yourself,” she says pointedly. I don’t need help at all is what I really want to say, but instead settle with something less offensive because contrary to popular beliefs, I’m not a complete asshole. “I’m being honest, Mrs Hollis. I am hot. Don’t you think so?” A deep shade of pink rushes to her cheeks and she looks away. I bite back a smirk at her reaction. “Mr Volkov, you know that is not what I mean when I tell you to describe yourself.” I can tell her patience is wearing thin, but then again, she brought this upon herself. I didn’t ask for this. She and her nephew did. “So, I’ll ask y
Chapter OneIsabella “And the shipments?” I hear my father ask. I can picture him sitting at the head of the long mahogany table even with the wooden door closed. I can also picture the ten men sitting around the table, listening to him, all dressed in fancy suits and pretending to be businessmen. But I know who they are. I know exactly what they do, and that thing is far from just business. “Received, sir,” an unfamiliar voice replies. “The drugs are safe. We already have buyers lining up.” “We have the FBI breathing down our necks. Thank god we found a solution for this now.”“Oh sweetheart, you cannot be here!” Janet, the housekeeper, whispers behind me, taking my arm. “If your father saw you…”“I know, I know,” I sigh, stepping away from her and the door. “I just… I want to go out for a bit. I feel suffocated in this house, Jan. I need to go out. I came to ask him if I could. I didn’t know he was in a meeting.”I’m not lying. I honestly had no idea that my father would be in







