Chapter 15 – Ivan #2
I stared at the childish handwriting until my vision blurred. “Bad men hurt children here.” So simple. So brave. Especially for a little Mafia princess, who probably learned not to trust the police.
While I’d been fighting to survive, she’d been fighting to save us without even knowing who we were.
My hands trembled. I gripped the edge of the desk to steady them, feeling something crack inside me.
All these years of loyalty, of following Grey and serving the Paraskia Syndicate had started on this day.
And to know it had been her—this fierce, defiant woman who’d just sacrificed herself to protect her sister.
The same woman I’d kidnapped. Threatened. Kissed.
A laugh escaped me, hollow and broken. The universe had a twisted sense of humor. Isabella Salvini had saved me as a child, and now what?
I pushed back from the desk, suddenly unable to breathe.
The walls of my room seemed to close in, the air thick with memories of the past and implications I wasn’t ready to face.
I needed space. Distance. Room to think without the ghost of Isabella’s kiss haunting me or the weight of this revelation crushing my chest.
I grabbed my jacket and headed for the door. The hallway stretched before me, silent and dark at this hour. My footsteps echoed against the polished floor as I made my way toward the kitchen. Maybe a drink would steady my nerves, help me think clearly about what to do next.
Our own little security room was on the way, its door slightly ajar, blue light spilling into the corridor. I should have walked past. Should have kept my eyes forward. But some magnetic pull drew my gaze to the wall of monitors inside.
There she was.
Isabella paced her room like a caged tiger, five steps one way, turn, five steps back.
Her hair hung loose around her shoulders, still damp from the shower she must have taken.
She pushed it back impatiently, her movements sharp with restless energy.
Even through the grainy security feed, I could see the tension in her shoulders, the fierce determination in her stride.
She paused at the window, staring out at the darkness.
I moved closer to the monitor—zoomed in.
Her face was mirrored in the window, and for a moment, her mask slipped.
Vulnerability flashed across her features—a glimpse of the woman who had cuddled against me in an attempt to ward off the cold.
She hung her head, which stirred something inside of me.
My feet started to turn, and I walked toward the exit, toward her, before I caught myself.
No. I couldn’t face her now. Not when everything I thought I knew was crumbling around me. Not when I could still taste her on my lips and felt the phantom warmth of her body against mine.
I forced myself to keep walking past the door, each step away from her a conscious effort. I wasn’t ready to face her. Too raw. Too emotional. I needed some distance from a truth I wasn’t ready to confront. Because right now, I wasn’t sure if I could remain on opposing sides. And what to do next?
I made my way to the kitchen and found my siblings sprawled across the living area’s couches, the glow of the television washing over them.
Some action movie played at low volume, but none of them seemed particularly invested.
Anton and Roman were passing a bag of chips back and forth while Mila and Nina argued about something in hushed tones.
It had been a while since all of us had been together like this.
Like family. And even though we weren’t related by blood.
The circumstances that made us choose each other, that made us form this family, made our bond stronger than if we were siblings by blood.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” Anton called out when he spotted me hovering in the doorway. “Our fearless leader graces us with his presence.”
I grunted in response, making a beeline for the bar cart. I poured myself two fingers of vodka, feeling their eyes on my back.
“Rough night?” Roman asked, his voice carefully neutral. Too neutral. They were already reading me and assessing me.
I knocked back half the vodka in one swallow. “Just needed a drink.”
“Must be something in those files,” Mila said, her eyes narrowing as she studied my face. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I’m fine,” I muttered, but the words sounded hollow even to my own ears.
Anton sat up straighter. “Bullshit. You’re wound tighter than a spring. What happened? Finally realized she’s too young for you?”
I took another sip, buying time. The vodka burned a path down my throat but did nothing to ease the chaos in my head.
My siblings waited, watching me with the patient focus of predators.
“Please,” Mila finally broke the silence with a smirk, “he’s been staring at her like she’s the last bottle of water in the desert.”
I set my glass down harder than necessary. “I’ve been assessing a flight risk.”
“Is that what we’re calling it now?” Mila’s laugh was sharp and knowing.
Anton grinned, leaning back against the couch cushions. “Well, I’d choose either of the Salvini twins over water any time of the day. Desert or not. Some things are worth dying for.”
Something hot and dangerous flashed through me. “Keep your eyes, hands, and opinions to yourself,” I snapped, my voice dropping to a growl. “They’re not here for your entertainment.”
Anton’s eyebrows shot up, and a meaningful look passed between him and Roman.
Mila’s smirk widened into something almost predatory. “Wow,” she said softly. “It’s worse than I thought.”
I gripped my glass tighter, torn between walking out and spilling everything I’d just discovered.
The weight of it pressed against my chest—Isabella’s childhood act of bravery, Grey’s decades-long surveillance of her, the connection between us that predated our first meeting.
My siblings were the only people in the world I truly trusted, but telling them would make this real in a way I wasn’t prepared to face.
I refilled my glass, knocked back the refill, and set the glass down. The silence stretched, my siblings waiting with the patience of hunters who sensed wounded prey.
“Fine,” I said finally, my voice rough. “You want to know what’s wrong? I just found out who Isabella Salvini really is.”
Nina leaned forward. “Well, since you’re going through Grey’s file on her, I would hope so. We already know she’s Iset. What else is there to know?”
“It’s more than that.” I ran a hand over my face, feeling the stubble scratch against my palm. “In 2008, the police received a tip from a little child. A child who handed a scribbled note to a police officer in a park in NYC.”
Everybody stared at me, their looks somewhere between interested and confused.
“That scrap of paper had the URL to a live feed of an underground fighting ring on it.” I paused for a second. Let it sink in. “Isabella Salvini was that child. The child who alerted the authorities.”
The room went completely still. Anton’s handful of chips froze halfway to his mouth. Roman’s face drained of color. Nina’s hand found Mila’s and gripped it tightly.
“What are you talking about?” Anton finally broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I found the reference in Grey’s file. The original police report, even a picture of the handwritten note. The anonymous tip that led to the raid came from an eight-year-old girl halfway across the world.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “I couldn’t believe it, but the reference is in her file, and the handwriting matches the sample on Isabella’s file. She was the one who found the website, who reported it.”
“That’s impossible,” Roman said, but his voice lacked conviction.
“She’s the reason we were rescued,” I continued, the words tumbling out now that I’d started. “The reason Grey found us. That’s where it all started.”
“Holy shit,” Mila breathed, her eyes wide.
Anton stood up abruptly, pacing the length of the kitchen. “How sure are you?”
“Ninety percent.”
“So that’s why the Paraskia Syndicate has her on file, starting when she was only a child?” Nina asked, her voice barely audible.
I met her eyes and nodded. “They had their eyes on her her whole life, have been watching her, manipulating her life. But I don’t know when Grey realized she was a hacker.”
“If she was the one who saved us,” Roman said, the undeniable truth hanging in the air between us, the implications too heavy to voice aloud.
“Then we owe her one,” Mila completed the sentence.
“She saved us,” I repeated, the words transforming from sound to meaning as they hung in the air.
The realization shifted something fundamental inside me. Isabella wasn’t just a hacker, a target, an asset to be acquired. She was the reason we’d survived at all. The reason we’d had a chance at life beyond those concrete walls and cages.
“I’ve been following Grey’s orders without question,” I said, my voice hollow. “Hunting the woman who saved us.”
Anton stopped pacing, his expression hardening. “If Grey knew she and us had that connection, why didn’t he tell us?”
“Because he knew you wouldn’t bring her in,” Nina answered, her voice flat. “You would’ve protected her instead.”
Roman leaned forward, elbows on knees. “This isn’t just about getting the Salvini family’s cooperation, is it? Grey’s obsession with having her specifically—it’s personal.”
“It can be personal but also about her hacking skills,” Nina whispered, rubbing the circular burn scar on her thigh—our shared mark from the rings.
“We’ve been digging into him these past couple of days. He has been making millions with dubious side jobs he’s kept secret from the Paraskia Syndicate,” Roman said.
The implications crashed over me. The plan was for us to have a clean exit while staying on friendly terms with the Paraskia Syndicate.
When Grey mentioned that stupid kidnapping mission to me, I ordered my siblings to look into Grey more, in an attempt to get leverage in case the Paraskia wasn’t happy about our exit.
“He’s been playing everyone,” I said, the bitter truth settling in my gut.
“So what do we do now?” Anton asked, looking to me as he always had—the big brother who’d protected them in the rings, who’d taken their punishments, who’d taught them to survive, who’d led them their whole life.
“We protect her,” I said without hesitation. “We figure out what Grey really wants with her, and we keep her safe until we do.”
“And then?” Roman asked.
“Then we finally execute our exit plan.” I met each of their eyes in turn. “We’ve been saving, preparing to leave the Paraskia and start our own security firm for years. It’s time.”
Mila nodded slowly. “We need to understand Grey’s endgame first. What does he want from Iset? Why now? Why use such an elaborate setup with the Salvini and Falcone family?”
“And why bring all of us here?” Nina added. “He almost never orders the whole family to one place without a concrete mission.”
“I think he used the opportunity that presented itself. The Paraskia wants the Salvini and Falcone families. This is his opportunity to have a reason to grab Isabella. And he ordered us here because he needs us to run interference when a very pissed Vince Salvini arrives,” I said.
“He’s using us as his front line. His most loyal operatives. ”
Roman’s eyes narrowed. “So we play along for now. Gather intelligence. And protect Isabella without Grey realizing we’ve switched sides.”
“Exactly,” I said, a plan already forming. “First, we need to understand why Grey is so obsessed with her. What does he think she knows?”
“Or maybe it’s not what she knows but what she can do,” Nina said.
Which made absolute sense.