Bound by Blood and Obsession

My hands would not stop shaking. No matter how hard I pressed my palms against my denim jeans, the tremors just wouldn't quit. The air inside my dad’s private study felt completely frozen. It was thick with the smell of old paper and the expensive cigars he always smoked when he was losing his mind over money. Right now, he looked like a ghost. His face was totally white, his expensive suit wrinkled, and his hair messy like he had been running his fingers through it all night long. "Tell me you're lying," I said. My voice sounded so small. I hated how small it sounded. "Tell me you didn't do this, Dad." Alistair Thorne couldn’t even look me in the eye. He just stared down at the dark wood of his desk, his fingers tapping a weird, frantic beat against a thick piece of paper. A piece of paper that basically traded my entire life away. "I had no choice, Isadora," he muttered. He sounded so pathetic. "The syndicate... they were going to liquidate everything. They were going to kill me. They were going to kill Perry." Hearing my little brother’s name made my stomach do a violent flip. Perry was only seventeen. He was supposed to be studying for his final exams, not worrying about whether some psycho mafia enforcer was going to break into our house and shoot him in his sleep. "So you gave me to them?" My voice cracked, turning sharp. "Like a car? Like a piece of property to pay off your stupid gambling debts?" "It’s not just a debt," my dad whispered, finally looking up. There was pure panic in his eyes. "It’s Cassian Sterling. You don't understand who he is, Isadora. If he wants something, he takes it. And he wanted a truce. He offered to wipe the entire slate clean. Every single dollar I owe his family. All of it. Gone." Cassian Sterling. The name felt like a heavy weight dropping straight onto my chest. Everyone in the city knew that name, even people who had nothing to do with the underworld. They called him The Ghost. He was the newly crowned Don of the Sterling syndicate, the most brutal crime family on this side of the country. People whispered that he didn't have feelings. They said he was made of ice and shadows, and that if you accidentally looked him in the eyes at a club or on the street, you would disappear the next day. And my dad just gave me to him. "I won't do it," I said, backing away toward the heavy office door. "I'll take Perry and we will run. We can go to another state. We can change our names." "You can't run from a Sterling!" my dad yelled, slamming his hand down on the desk. The noise made me jump. "The second you step foot outside this city, his men will track you down. And then he won't just take you. He will murder Perry right in front of you. Is that what you want?" I froze. My hand was hovering right over the brass doorknob. He was right. That was the sickest part. You couldn't run from people like Cassian Sterling. They owned the police, the politicians, the airports, everything. If I ran, I was basically signing a death warrant for my little brother. Perry didn't deserve to die for our dad's disgusting mistakes. He was good. He had a future. I sucked in a shaky breath, feeling the tears stinging the back of my eyes, but I forced them down. I refused to cry in front of the man who just sold me. "When?" I whispered. My dad swallowed hard, looking relieved that I was giving up. It made me want to throw up. "Tonight. His men are coming to collect you tonight. You need to go pack a bag. Just... just the essentials. He said he would provide the rest." Provide the rest. It sounded so clinical. Like he was buying a new pet and buying the food and the cage to go with it. I didn't say another word to my father. I turned the handle, walked out of the room, and shut the door behind me. The hallway of our house felt totally different now. It didn't feel like home anymore. It felt like a waiting room for a prison. I walked up the stairs to my bedroom, my legs feeling like they were made of lead. Every single step was harder than the last one. I grabbed a small black duffel bag from the closet and started throwing things inside. Jeans. Hoodies. A few t-shirts. I didn't take any of the fancy dresses my dad bought me for charity galas. I didn't want anything that reminded me of the Thorne name. The only thing that mattered was a small, framed photo of me and Perry at the beach from three years ago. I wrapped it carefully in a soft sweater and tucked it right into the center of the bag. Suddenly, my bedroom door clicked open. I spun around, my heart jumping into my throat, but it was just Perry. He was wearing his school uniform, his backpack hanging loosely off one shoulder. He looked so young, so completely clueless about the nightmare that was happening downstairs. "Isa?" Perry asked, frowning as he looked at the open duffel bag on my bed. "Where are you going? Is Dad making you go on another trip?" I forced a fake smile onto my face. It hurt my cheeks so bad. "Hey, Perry. Yeah, kind of. It’s... it’s a big opportunity. I’m going to be staying across town for a while." "Across town? With who?" He walked into the room, looking confused. "Is everything okay? Dad looks like he’s about to faint downstairs. And there are weird cars parked down the street." My blood ran cold. They were already here. "Everything is totally fine, Perry," I said, walking over and grabbing both of his shoulders. I needed him to look at me and listen. "Listen to me really carefully, okay? No matter what happens tonight, or what Dad tells you tomorrow, I need you to promise me you will stay focused on school. Don't worry about me. I'm going to be totally safe." "Isa, you're scaring me," Perry said, his voice getting higher. "Why are you talking like you're never coming back?" Before I could answer him, a loud, heavy knock echoed from downstairs. It wasn't a normal knock. It was three slow, powerful thuds that vibrated straight through the floorboards of the house. The Sterlings were here. "I have to go," I whispered, giving Perry a super tight hug. I held onto him for three seconds, memorizing how he smelled like laundry soap and old school books. "I love you, Perry. Remember your promise." I grabbed my duffel bag before he could ask any more questions and walked out of the room. I could hear him calling my name from the hallway, but I didn't look back. If I looked back, I would break, and I couldn't afford to be broken right now. I needed to be a wall. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, the front door was already wide open. Standing in the doorway was a massive man wearing a tailored black suit. He had a deep, nasty scar running right down the side of his jaw, and his eyes looked like they were made of stone. He didn't look like a human being; he looked like a machine built for killing. This had to be Benedict, Cassian’s right-hand man. My dad was standing near the coat rack, literally trembling, his hands pressed together like he was praying. The scarred man didn't look at my dad. His cold eyes locked right onto me as I hit the bottom step. He looked at my small duffel bag, then back up to my face. "Isadora Thorne?" his voice was deep, like thunder rolling in the distance. "Yes," I said. I held my chin up. I wouldn't let him see me shake. "The Don is waiting in the car," Benedict said. He stepped to the side, pointing out toward the dark, rainy street. "Let's go." I didn't look at my dad. I didn't say goodbye to him. I walked straight past him, out the front door, and down the stone steps of the house I grew up in. The rain was cold, dripping down my neck, but I barely felt it. Parked right at the curb was a massive, shiny black car with windows so dark you couldn't see a single thing inside. Benedict walked past me, opening the heavy rear door. The interior of the car was completely dark, except for the tiny glowing lights on the dashboard. I took a deep breath, gripped the strap of my duffel bag until my knuckles turned white, and climbed inside. The leather seat was freezing. The door slammed shut behind me with a heavy, airtight thud that sounded exactly like a jail cell locking into place. The car instantly smelled like expensive leather and woodsmoke. I turned my head toward the other side of the seat. Sitting in the shadows was a man. He was wearing a dark, perfectly fitted suit. His legs were crossed, and his hands were resting calmly on his lap. The faint streetlights from outside passed over his face as the car started to pull away from the curb, and my breath caught right in my throat. He was gorgeous. But it was the kind of gorgeous that made you feel like you were looking at a wild animal. He had a sharp, chiseled jawline, dark hair pushed back neatly, and lips that were pressed into a flat, harsh line. But it was his eyes that made my heart completely stop. They were a piercing, icy gray. And right now, they were locked onto me. He wasn't blinking. He was just watching me, analyzing me, like he already owned every single bone in my body. This was Cassian Sterling. The silence inside the car was deafening. The only sound was the faint wiping of the rain on the windshield up front. I pressed myself against the car door, trying to put as much distance between us as possible. "You don't need to look at me like I'm going to execute you right here, Isadora," he said. His voice didn't sound like the enforcer's. It was smooth, deep, and completely quiet. But it carried so much weight that it made the hairs on my arms stand up. "You bought me from my father," I said, my voice sharp and biting. I wanted him to know I wasn't scared, even if my heart was hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. "I think I have every right to look at you however I want."