—Tristan— As promised, I picked Ellie up at seven so she could run with me. Usually I preferred to do my morning run alone, but I couldn’t resist her presence. Ellie had put on shorts, a T-shirt, and sneakers. She followed me quietly through the house but stopped when I led her toward the driveway. “Where are we going?” “We’re going running, like I said. Did you think I do my laps in the garden?” I opened the door to my Bugatti SUV for her, and she got in without another word. I got behind the wheel and pulled down the driveway, feeling her eyes on me. I enjoyed her confusion. I took us to a trail in a nearby canyon where I’d run before. Soon it would be too warm, but this early in the morning the temperature was perfect for running. Ellie followed me out of the car and looked around the gravel parking lot. We were the only people around. Her eyes were assessing and attentive. She’d try something, and I had to admit I couldn’t wai
—Tristan— I called Salvador in the afternoon. He picked up after the second ring, his voice cold and hard but with an underlying tension that gave me a thrill. “Salvador, I wanted to ask when you were going to fulfill my demand.” “I won’t, just as you intended. I don’t have time for your games, Tristan. This is between us, between you and me. Why don’t we meet in person,and settle this like men.” “You want to duel me? How archaic of you, Salvador. You didn’t strike me as the primitive type.” “I’ll gladly convince you of the contrary.” I almost agreed because the idea of shoving my knife over and over into the cold fish was too fucking enticing. Fighting him would have been a highlight. Since cutting Luca into bite-sized pieces was out of the question for now, Salvador was the opponent I longed for. There was only one thing I wanted more than killing him: having Ellie in every way possible and destroying him through her. “We will
—Ellie— The moment Tristan picked me up the next morning, I knew it wasn’t for a run. For one, he was too early, and second he was only in his briefs. I tore my gaze away from his body. “We need to record additional motivation for your uncle,” Tristan explained. “Come.” I perched on the bed, not moving an inch. Another recording? When I didn’t follow his command, Tristan raised his eyebrows. “Come,” he said with more force, and it took considerable effort to remain motionless. I stubbornly returned his gaze. He stalked toward me and bent over me. “Maybe I’m being too lenient with you,” he murmured, fingers nudging my chin up. I smiled then gasped when he jerked me to my feet and threw me over his shoulder. His big warm hand rested on my butt as he carried me, and for a few moments I stilled in shock. More because of my body’s reaction to the feel of Tristan’s palm than to my head hanging down over his shoulder. I started wiggling
—Ellie— Night had fallen and I was reading in bed, when suddenly the lights went out. I blinked into the unexpected darkness and climbed out of bed, putting the book down on the nightstand. Following the trail of silvery moonlight, I glanced out of the window. The lights in the garden and every other window of the mansion that I could see were out as well. In the distance I could make out lights from other houses. My pulse picked up. What was happening? My eyes searched the shadows of the perimeter, and then I saw two figures running across the lawn toward the house. The Outfit. It had to be. They had come to save me. Euphoria pulsed through me, followed by fear. This was Tristan’s territory. The Russo's knew every inch of their property and the Outfit didn’t. What if Mateo was among the attackers? I clung to the windowsill, immobilized by terror at the thought. Salvador and Dad would have never allowed my cousin to come here. He was
—Ellie— The lights came back on. My eyes burned from the onslaught of brightness. I was still kneeling on the bathroom floor when Tristan’s voice rang out. “Go into the basement and help Damian torture the Outfit asshole.” I could feel the color draining from my face. I’d heard the shooting, had prayed that the Outfit would win ... I forced myself to stand when the lock turned. Tristan came in covered in blood, and I started trembling, terrified my greatest horrors had come true. For a couple of heartbeats, Tristan regarded me. “Your cousin tried to save you.” Terror gripped me like a vise. I could not breathe. I didn’t want to believe it. “You’re lying,” I gasped out, voice broken and hollow. A dark smile curled his lips. “He’s a brave one.” I rushed toward Tristan, clutched his bloody shirt. Hiss dark eyes held mine. The predatory gleam in them made my heart thud even faster. “No,” I said again. “Mateo isn’t he
—Tristan— Eleanor had offered herself to me, but she’d done it out of despair, out of love for her cousin. Not because she wanted to. She loved her cousin fiercely, wanted to protect him at any cost, like I would my brothers. I could respect that. I’d never admired a woman on her knees more than I did Ellie. She followed me quietly through the mansion. I could have asked anything of her, but that wasn’t how I wanted things to go. Far from it. I opened the door to the cell beside Mateo’s, and Ellie stepped in. The door to the third cell swung open, and Damian stepped out, covered in blood, his brows drawing together when he spotted Ellie. I closed the door and faced him. “What’s going on?” he asked. His eyes scanned my face. “Tristan.” I smirked. “Change of plans.” He moved closer. “We’re not letting him go.” “We will.” Savio joined us in the hallway, clothes drenched in blood as well. He didn’t say anything, only regarded us
—Ellie— Over the next couple of days, Tristan kept his distance. We didn’t go on runs, and Kate or one of his brothers brought me food. The look in his eyes when I’d screamed in the basement, it was difficult to describe, but I knew for some reason it had bothered him. Damian had informed me this morning that Mateo was back in Minneapolis. I believed him. Tristan had promised and despite my difficult feelings toward the Don, I knew he’d keep this promise. I also knew that Mateo and my family were suffering every day I was here. Damian treated me even colder than before—if that was even possible. I had a feeling things between Tristan and him were strained because of Mateo. Damian probably would have killed my cousin. It was the obvious solution, the one Salvador would have chosen. But Tristan ... he was unpredictable. Cruel. Fierce. I didn’t understand him. If he’d tortured and killed Mateo, I would have hated him with brutal abandon, woul
—Ellie— “One month,” Tristan reminded me as he led me through the garden. It took me a moment to understand what he meant. “Since you captured me,” I said quietly. One month. Sometimes it felt so much longer, sometimes like only yesterday. I had never thought I’d survive a single day in the hands of the Russo's, in Tristan Russo’s hands, and now I’d survived so many more. Tristan was more patient than I’d thought. I was fairly sure my family and the Outfit was at a point by now that they’d hand Scuderi over, even if my grandfather disapproved. He was an old man close to death. I stared down at my bare feet in the grass. As a child I’d loved to run around barefoot, but eventually I had stopped because I was told it was undignified. Ice Princess. I’d enjoyed being her in public, even if she wasn’t a reflection of my true self. It was who I was supposed to be as Salvador’s niece, as Drake’s wife. Controlled. Dignified. Graceful. I caught