I slipped out of the car, my body feeling heavy and dragged down with the weight of the day.

I’d buried my sister.

I’d stood up to my father.

And now here I was, meeting with an uncle that I barely knew, alongside a man who twisted my gut every which way until Sunday, and feeling like I was walking straight into the fires of hell.

“Emerson!” someone yelled, and I spun around at hearing the sounds of footsteps rushing toward me from behind. I backed away as a woman with a microphone and two men with cameras on their shoulders rushed at me.

“How do you feel about your family’s ties to the mafia?”

“Was Sophie’s death an organized hit?”

“Are there plans of retaliation?”

The words flew at me so quickly that I stumbled backward.

Two strong hands caught me before I could fall, and an arm slipped around my waist, holding me securely against a hard chest.

“Allontanarli da qui!” Angelo roared as his body wrapped around mine, and he herded me toward the mansion’s front doors. I wasn’t a stranger to members of the press and the media leaping out of weird places, but it was the questions she’d thrown at me that I couldn’t quite wrap my brain around.

Angelo had to physically pick me up and carry me through the doorway, his body shielding mine from the flashes of cameras outside, and more people hollering questions that I couldn’t quite make out. He set me on my feet, and the young man who’d been our driver rushed through the door after us, slamming it closed so we were finally safe. I stared up at Angelo, his hands still resting on my hips and a dark glaze over his eyes as if he knew the question that was coming next.

His fingers tightened, and I braced my hands on his chest. “What the hell was she talking about?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm, but noticing the way it cracked right at the end.

He didn’t answer, his sharp jaw clenched tightly and his thick eyebrows hiding part of his eyes as he dipped his head and looked at me from beneath his brow. It was like he was daring me to say the words, he was waiting for me to say them, to realize that they were true and put all the damn pieces of the puzzle together.

“Tell me,” I demanded, smacking my palm against his chest and pushing him away. He let me go, his fingers trailing over my stomach and causing every muscle in my body to tense as he stepped back and allowed me some space. My shoes creaked on the tile floors, the tap of my heels echoing in the large space as I shuffled from one foot to the other, waiting for a damn answer. “What’s. Going. On?” I asked, saying each word slowly, my voice getting louder with each pause. I suddenly felt defenseless and scared. The way Angelo was watching me, his body tight and his hands clenched into fists, was like he was expecting me to make a run for it at any moment.

And if I did, there was no way I was going to make it out of here.

He wasn’t going to let me.

I started to shake, and my heart rate kicked into overdrive, beating so hard that my head began to thump and I could hear it in my ears. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught movement. There were two more men stepping into the foyer of the large house, both dressed much like Angelo and his driver. They watched me cautiously, their eyes plastered to me as they moved around the edge of the room like predators.

Suddenly, I felt like I was back there, in Sophie’s bedroom, with no place to go, nowhere to run, no one to help me.

Looking down at my hands, I could see her blood staining my fingertips, I could hear her screams in my head.

It was happening all over again.

I’d walked into a trap.

Was this what my father meant when he said it was my uncle’s fault that Sophie had been killed?

Were they with Tobia?

Had he come back to finish what he’d started?

“Breathe, Emerson,” Angelo ordered sharply with a deep growl, causing me to gasp.

I’d been holding my breath. I sucked in as much air as possible. But my breaths were quick and sharp, and the room was beginning to spin. My legs which were usually filled with amazing strength due to my dancing abilities felt like they were going to collapse under me at any moment, and if I hit the floor it would be hard and unforgiving.

“Are… Are you with him?” I stuttered, meeting Angelo’s scrutinizing gaze. My voice barely a whisper as I wondered whether I’d underestimated the darkness that swirled around this man who made my stomach stir in ways I’d never felt before.

“With who?” He raised one eyebrow and took a step forward, but I matched it with one of my own, scooting back unsteadily.

I didn’t want to say his name. I knew if I did, I’d probably be sick all over the pretty and expensive looking white tile that filled the room. Then they would all laugh like those other men had done. They would get off on my pain, probably joking about it with each other later.

The poor little girl who threw up her lunch because she was a little scared.

“Emerson?” My uncle’s voice startled me and I spun around, my heart pounding in my chest, making it hard for me to breathe. I could see the concern in his eyes as he looked me over. “What’s going on here?”

“I want to leave,” I demanded, finding my voice finally.

He frowned. “I brought you here so we could talk—”

“I don’t want to talk. I want to leave,” I insisted, not missing the way Uncle Anthony’s eyes moved to Angelo questioningly.

I was dizzy, and my legs were wobbling. The room was starting to spin the more I panicked while trying desperately to watch every man in that room with me—waiting for them to pounce—the more I felt the shadows overcoming my vision.

I knew what my body was doing. It was trying to protect itself, forcing me into the darkness so I couldn’t be afraid of whatever happened next. That and the fact that I hadn’t eaten for almost five days was taking its toll on my body.

One last look at Angelo was all it took.

He stepped forward, everything moving in slow motion as I felt my body heading for the floor. I knew it was going to hurt, and I remember bracing myself for the impact, but it never came. Shadows clouded my vision, and I heard his words whisper in my ear before they engulfed me.

“I’ve got you, Bella.”