I bite Dante's hand as hard as I can.
He yells and jerks away, and for one perfect second, his grip loosens. I don't think. I just move. My hands are still free, and I shove him with all my strength. He stumbles backward, surprised.
I run.
My legs feel like jelly, but I force them to move. I don't know where I'm going. I just know I have to get away from that chair, away from those ropes, away from whatever they're planning to do to me.
"Isabella!" Luca shouts behind me.
I hear footsteps pounding after me. Heavy. Fast. Getting closer.
The hallway stretches out forever. I see a door at the end and sprint toward it. My lungs burn. My heart feels like it's going to explode. But I keep running.
I reach the door and grab the handle. Locked.
"No, no, no!" I pull and twist, but it won't open.
Hands grab my shoulders and spin me around. It's Alessandro. His dark eyes bore into mine, and for a moment, neither of us moves.
"Let me go," I gasp, trying to pull away.
He doesn't let go, but he doesn't hurt me either. He just holds me there, studying my face like he's trying to figure something out.
"That was stupid," he says quietly.
"I don't care!" Tears stream down my face now. I can't hold them back anymore. "I don't care what my dad did! I don't care about your rules! I just want to go home!"
The others catch up. Dante is holding his hand, blood dripping from where I bit him. He looks furious.
"Little brat drew blood," he snarls, starting toward me.
Alessandro shifts, putting himself between Dante and me. "Back off."
"She bit me!"
"And you were dragging her to a chair to tie her up. What did you expect?" Alessandro's voice is calm, but there's steel in it.
Dante glares at both of us but steps back.
Marco appears, looking annoyed. "This is exactly what I said would happen. She's scared and desperate. Of course she tried to run."
"So what do we do now?" Luca asks. He won't look at me.
Marco thinks for a moment, then sighs. "We talk to her. Properly this time."
"Talk?" Dante laughs harshly. "We're wasting time—"
"I said we talk." Marco's voice cuts through the air like a blade. "Everyone back to the main room. Now."
They don't argue with him. Even Dante obeys.
Alessandro's hands are still on my shoulders. "Can you walk?"
I nod, even though my legs are shaking so badly I might fall.
He guides me down the hallway, his grip firm but not painful. We end up in a different room—bigger than the one I've been staying in. There's a couch, some chairs, and a table.
Marco gestures to the couch. "Sit."
I sit because I don't have a choice. Alessandro stands beside me, and I realize he's positioned himself between me and the others again. Protecting me? That doesn't make sense.
Marco pulls up a chair and sits across from me. Luca leans against the wall. Dante paces like an angry cat. Alessandro stays where he is.
"Let's start over," Marco says. "You want answers. We need cooperation. Maybe we can find a middle ground."
"A middle ground?" My voice comes out high and shaky. "You kidnapped me! You were going to tie me to a chair!"
"The chair was Dante's idea, and it was a bad one." Marco shoots Dante a look. "We're not going to hurt you, Isabella. But we do need your help."
"Help with what? I don't know anything!"
Marco leans forward. "Your father stole something from us three months ago. Something extremely valuable. We've been searching for it, but we can't find it. We believe he told you where it is."
I shake my head frantically. "He didn't! I swear he didn't tell me anything!"
"Think carefully," Marco says. "Did he give you anything? A box, a letter, a USB drive? Did he ask you to keep something safe for him?"
I search my memory, but there's nothing. "No. He didn't give me anything weird. Just normal dad stuff—birthday presents, lunch money, rides to school."
"Did he mention any names?" Luca asks gently. "Places he was going? People he was meeting?"
"No! He just... he worked a lot. He was always busy. But he never told me about his job."
Marco and Luca exchange glances. Something passes between them, but I can't read it.
"What did he steal?" I demand. My fear is turning into anger. "If you want me to help, at least tell me what this is about!"
"Information," Marco says after a pause. "Your father stole information about our business. Names, locations, financial records. If that information reaches the wrong people, a lot of people will die."
My stomach drops. "Die? What kind of business are you in?"
No one answers.
"Oh my god." The pieces click together in my head. "You're criminals. Like... like mobsters or something."
Dante laughs. "She just figured that out now?"
"And my dad..." I can barely say the words. "My dad stole from the mob?"
"Your father isn't who you think he is," Marco says. "He's not some innocent accountant. He's been working for us for years, handling our finances. He knew exactly what he was doing when he took that information."
"No." I shake my head. "You're lying. My dad wouldn't—"
"Your dad is currently hiding," Alessandro interrupts, his voice quiet but firm. "He hasn't tried to negotiate for your release. He hasn't contacted us at all. Does that sound like an innocent man who cares about his daughter?"
His words hit me like a punch to the stomach. Because he's right. If my dad knew I was missing, if he knew I was in danger, wouldn't he do anything to save me? Wouldn't he give them back what he took?
Unless he can't. Unless he's too scared. Or unless...
"He doesn't know you have me," I whisper.
Marco raises an eyebrow. "We sent him proof. Photos. A message. He knows."
The room spins. My dad knows I'm here. He knows these dangerous men have me. And he's done nothing.
"Why?" The word comes out broken. "Why would he just leave me here?"
"That's what we're trying to figure out," Luca says softly.
Tears blur my vision. "So what happens now? If he won't give you the information back, what happens to me?"
The silence that follows is terrifying.
Finally, Marco speaks. "That depends on you."
"On me?"
"You say you don't know where the information is. I believe you. But your father loves you—or he should. If we can make him believe you're in real danger, he might break. He might talk."
"You want to use me as bait," I say flatly.
"We want to use you as motivation," Marco corrects.
"What's the difference?"
"The difference is whether you help us or not."
I look around the room at all of them. Dante, who wants to hurt me. Luca, who feels guilty but will still do whatever they say. Alessandro, who watches everything but reveals nothing. And Marco, the cold, calculating leader who sees me as nothing more than a tool.
"And if I help you?" I ask. "What happens to my dad?"
Marco's expression doesn't change. "That depends on what he's done with the information."
Before I can respond, the door bursts open.
A man I've never seen before rushes in, breathing hard. "We have a problem."
Marco stands immediately. "What kind of problem?"
"The information your father stole?" the man says, looking at me. "Someone just posted part of it online. Three of our warehouses were raided an hour ago."
The room explodes with cursing and shouting. Everyone starts talking at once.
But all I can think is: my dad just made everything so much worse.
And these men are going to make me pay for it.