2

Dominic

This isn't part of my plan.

My heart races, and I feel terrible as I brandish the gun in the clinic, but circumstances have left me with no other choice.

I can't snatch Isabella at the end of her shift as originally intended because that guy sitting in the clinic waiting room with a smug grin on his face has ruined everything.

I don't know why Henry is here, but it can't be good.

Nothing he does ever is.

"Come with me."

Isabella's eyes widen. I don't think she's fully comprehended what's happening yet.

"I'm serious. We need to leave. Now."

I can feel Henry's gaze on me. Whether he's angered or upset by my intervention, I couldn't care less. The farther I can take Isabella away from him, the better.

She probably doesn't see it as protection, but that's exactly what I'm doing.

Even if she ends up despising me for it.

This is precisely why emotional entanglements are a bad idea in this line of work.

People remain cowering on the floor as I maneuver through the crowd. I need to get closer to Isabella now, to make her understand my motives and why I'm taking this drastic action. It's all for her, even if it doesn't seem that way at the moment.

"Stop," she whispers, but I don't halt. "Wait."

"Isabella, I need you to come with me."

I lower the gun slightly. I can't put it away completely, not with Henry in my line of sight.

"Someone is after you, Isabella."

"Yes..." she manages to reply hoarsely. "You."

Well, I suppose I'll have to reveal everything then. Nothing was supposed to unfold like this. I feel awful, but there's no other choice.

"The man who's been surveilling you..."

"Chad? My father's associate?"

She must be in shock. She's saying too much. Fortunately, I already know everything. Though I have no clue what the others in the room are thinking. I'm grateful Isabella's coworkers aren't pressuring me to save their friend.

They're too terrified of getting shot themselves.

"He's gone."

I pull out the flashy cell phone, a clear indicator that I may not be the homeless man I've been pretending to be, and show her the photo of the man lying in a pool of blood.

"Oh my God." She covers her mouth in horror. "He's dead. What happened?"

"He's been shot, yes. And you're next."

Her knees buckle, and I use my spare hand to support her, preventing her from falling. Perhaps she should recoil from me, but she doesn't. The connection we've forged holds strong.

"You need to come with me. Now. I can keep you safe."

Yeah, I'm not executing this well. Not with this damn gun in my hand. I'll have to blow my cover completely to get her out of this clinic.

"I didn't have kerosene for breakfast this morning."

Her eyes nearly bulge out of her head. Knowing her father's password means I'm entrenched in her world, even if only on the periphery. It means I know enough. I'll never be the poor homeless man in need of her aid again.

William Bonell is gone.

"How do you know that?" she whispers.

"It doesn't matter now." I don't need to divulge all the details. She doesn't need to know that I've been tailing her and overheard the password. "We just need to leave."

I fire a blank round into the ceiling to emphasize my seriousness. It elicits screams and panic, providing enough distraction for me to edge backward with Isabella in tow.

I know she's not entirely convinced, but she's moving, and that's something.

I fire the gun a few more times, continuing to do so down the block. My car is just around the corner, and as long as I can get Isabella into it, everything will be fine.

"Come on," I bark at Isabella, noticing her slowing down with uncertainty. She can't stop now. "We have to go."

I hate seeing all the color drain from her face. It's awful to make such a kind person worry, but I can't forget who her father is and how much this job will pay me.

"Stop wasting time, Isabella," I caution. "Things will get messy here."

When she doesn't respond, I grip her arm a bit more forcefully and pull her along. I don't want to hurt her, but the cops will arrive any moment now. The sirens might have already started.

Adrenaline courses through my veins as I guide Isabella around the corner to the car. It's still there, thank goodness, since I left it unlocked for a quick getaway. There's no room for error or anything to slow us down.

"Get in," I say gruffly, swinging open the passenger door. "Now, Isabella. We don't have time..."

She hesitates. I have to nudge her in. Just enough to slam the door shut behind her so we can escape.

I scan the area, relieved to see no flashing blue lights or Henry in sight, before I hop into my seat and speed away.

Luckily, I know these roads like the back of my hand. I don't need to focus on the route, which allows my mind to race, processing all the thoughts.

What was Henry doing there?

Is he on the same job as me? Am I not moving fast enough?

Why is Vincenzo Lucchese so desperate to get his hands on Dimitry Genovese’s daughter?

This was supposed to be a straightforward job. I shouldn't be so rattled by it.

Thankfully, I have somewhere to go.

I need to figure out all this mess somewhere.

"What's going on?" Isabella asks softly. Her words reach my ears, but they struggle to penetrate my frantic thoughts. "What happened to Chad? Where are you taking me? I don't understand. Why did you do that at work? We help people at the clinic. We don't deserve to be threatened. Why did you bring a gun like that? Who are you?"

The car careens around a corner, the wheels briefly lifting off the ground, but I've experienced high-speed drives before. This is nothing to me.

"William, what are you doing?"

But Isabella seems entirely unaccustomed to this, gripping onto the car's side to steady herself. She hastily fastens her seatbelt to keep herself anchored, a wise move.

"Are you trying to kill me, William? I thought we were friends..."

Her words falter on her lips as she realizes she's not making any headway. She sinks back into her seat, a look of sadness crossing her face. But I can't get entangled in her emotions right now. I need to ensure our safety.

Damn, what I really need to figure out is my next move.

With my plans falling apart like that, I'm left with nothing sorted out. Once we reach the safe house, I don't have a follow-up plan. I don't even know what I've gotten myself into.

I should call Vincenzo, but if he's collaborating with Henry, then I don't know...

"Why was Chad killed?" she suddenly asks. "He was a good person."

Guilt courses through me, but as I constantly remind myself, in the midst of bad circumstances, even good people can get tangled up in unfortunate events.

"Do I need to call my father? Since you seem to know him, maybe I should contact him right now. See what's going on. I know he's in Ireland right now, but it won't take him long to get here. He can get me out of this mess in a heartbeat. I have my phone with me, luckily, so I can get him here. I can do whatever I need to."

The reaction she seeks simmers within me, but I suppress it. I won't let Isabella see that she's getting under my skin, even though I desperately wish she'd stop talking.

"William, please tell me something. I just want to understand what's happening. Have you been following me? I thought you were coming to the clinic for help. Are you really who you say you are? I thought we had a connection. Why didn't you just tell me you worked for my dad?"

A tear slides down her cheek.

Damn.

But I must remain resolute in my decisions. This was undoubtedly the right course of action. If Isabella thinks she's scared with me, it's nothing compared to being with Henry.

He's despicable.

A true monster.

I don't need personal experience with him to know his character. The city's rumors about him tell me everything I need to know.

Of all the people I've encountered, he's the one with the least moral compass. No one deserves to be around him.

Especially not Isabella.

"William!"

This time, her cry jolts me, and she surprises me by grabbing the steering wheel and jerking it to one side. There aren't any other vehicles nearby, so no harm is done, but my patience wears thin. We won't make progress if she keeps acting out like this.

I steer into the skid, pulling over to the side of the road.

I wonder if Isabella can sense the frustration coursing through me.

"What's going on now?" she demands, oblivious to my inner turmoil. "What are you doing? Are we meeting someone here? Is it my father? Because if he's here, then I need to see him now. I need to understand what's happened to Chad and why someone is after me. Has he done something? This has to be because of him, right?"

I step out of the car and approach her side. She holds her cell phone tightly between her fingers, poised to make a call at a moment's notice.

I grab it from her and let it fall to the ground.

"What the hell are you doing?" she screams as I crush it underfoot, breaking the screen and shattering the insides into countless pieces.

If there's one thing I'm certain of, it's that I can't risk anyone tracking us to where we're going.

"I'm truly sorry about this, Isabella," I say, perhaps the most honest words I've uttered to her. But she likely believes it's for what I've done thus far, not anticipating what's coming next.

Reaching in as though I'm going to release her seat belt, I instead apply pressure to a specific point on her neck, knowing the inevitable result.

"F—" Isabella tries to speak, but she doesn't finish her sentence. The pressure point takes effect swiftly, and her eyes flutter shut.

As her body slumps forward, unconscious, I release a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. Stepping back, I try to collect myself once more.

This situation is beyond messed up. I don't even have time to process it or gather my thoughts. I still need to get out of here—now, without Isabella's relentless questions I can't answer.

Now, we can just move.