Chapter 9 - The Suite Upstairs
Room 1402 of the Sovereign Hotel did not look like a torture chamber. It looked like an ultra-luxury suite with floor-to-ceiling panoramic views of the city skyline.
When Massimo’s men breached the double doors with a master override, there was no fight.
Isabella sat on the edge of the king-sized bed. Even in the sweltering heat of the room, she wore a high-collared, heavy wool trench coat buttoned up to her chin, her hands tucked deep inside the pockets. Her face was hollow, her eyes sunken with months of sleepless terror.
When she saw Massimo step through the doorway, she didn't move. She didn't cry. She simply shrank into the heavy coat, trying to disappear into the fabric.
"Dad..." she whispered, her voice cracked and dry.
Massimo stopped five feet away. The murderous fury that had leveled two people in the lounge below vanished, replaced by an agony that made his broad shoulders bend.
"Isabella," he said softly. "Take off the coat."
She pulled the collar tighter around her neck, tears finally spilling over her lashes. "Dad, please... don't look. Please just take Mia and go... Grant said—"
"Grant is bleeding in the lobby," Massimo said, his voice absolute. "He will never touch you again. Take off the coat, Bella."
Slowly, her trembling fingers unfastened the dark horn buttons. She let the heavy trench coat slide down her arms and fall to the carpet.
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Beneath the coat, Isabella wore a sleeveless silk slip. Her arms, her shoulders, and her collarbones were cross-hatched with deep, fading yellow bruises and fresh, violent purple welts. Around both wrists were the dark, banded hematomas of someone who had been held down against floorboards.
Massimo closed his eyes for one long second, swallowed the fire in his throat, and took his daughter into his arms.
