I S A B E L L A
There’s a glint of something dangerous in his eyes, and for a moment, I wonder if the men in those cars know who they’re dealing with.
Suddenly, one of the cars pulls up alongside us, trying to force us off the road. I let out a startled cry, my hand instinctively reaching for Angelo’s arm. He doesn’t flinch, his grip on the wheel powerful as he swerves just enough to avoid contact.
“Don’t panic, Isabella,” he says, his voice firm. “I'm going to keep you safe...”
Another car speeds up behind us, its headlights flashing aggressively. Angelo mutters something under his breath in Italian, his jaw tightening as he presses down on the accelerator.
The speedometer climbs higher, and I feel the car surge forward, the engine growling as Angelo pushes it to its limits. The worl
