Sins Of The Hunted

Shattered

My BMW tears through Chicago’s streets, neon lights smearing past like a bad dream, my heart pounding so hard it’s gonna crack my ribs. The black SUV’s still on my tail, headlights glaring like some f*****g monster, and my hands are shaking, barely gripping the wheel.

My phone buzzes again—Luca, thank God. “Isabella, where you at now?” His voice is sharp but warm.

“I’m five minutes out,” I choke, swerving around a cab, the SUV slamming my bumper. I scream, my car lurching. “Marco’s guys are after me!”

“s**t, sis, you stole his thunder, huh? Stay cool, I’m gonna call a friend, he’ll know what to do.— plus he owes me for saving his ass once. Get here quick.”

The line cuts, and I’m cursing, “f**k, f**k, f**k!” My party-girl sass is gone, buried under panic, but that reckless spark keeps me moving. There’s no way is let Marco get me.

I skid into Luca’s shitty neighborhood, streetlights flickering, shadows crawling. His building’s a brick dump, but it’s my goddamn lifeline. I ditch the car, my bare feet slapping pavement, my torn red dress screaming trouble. The SUV’s headlights sweep the lot, and I’m sprinting, I buzz Luca’s apartment, my voice raw. “It’s me! Open the door!”

The door clicks, and I’m flying up the stairs, my breath a mess, tears burning. Luca’s at his door, all scruffy beard and big-brother grin, like we’re kids again. He pulls me into a hug, and I’m sobbing, my face in his jacket, his dumb cologne grounding me. “Jesus, Bella, you look like you ran through a war zone,” he teases, ruffling my curls. “What’d you do, steal Marco’s whole damn empire?”

I laugh through tears, his goofy ass making me feel safe for a second. “He killed someone, Luca,” I gasp, pulling back, my hands shaking. “Shot him right in front of me. I grabbed this.” I hold up my clutch, the USB inside. “They’re coming.”

His grin fades, but he winks, trying to keep it light. “Always knew you’d pull some badass stunt. Should’ve got you a cape instead of crayons back in the day.” He’s grabbing his phone, dialing fast. “Danny, it’s Luca, where the hell are you man? My sister’s in deep s**t—get here now.” He hangs up, then pulls a gun from a drawer, checking it like it’s no big deal. My stomach flips—he’s ready to fight.

“We gotta call the cops,” I say, fumbling for my burner phone, my fingers clumsy. Luca grabs my wrist, his eyes serious for once. “No way, Bella. Guys like Marco’s would definitely got cops on his payroll. You call, you’re handing yourself to him.”

My heart twists—he’s right, but it’s f****d. Before I can argue, the door explodes, wood flying like shrapnel. I scream, stumbling back as two hitmen in black charge in, guns raised. Luca shoves me behind the couch, his gun barking, clipping one guy’s shoulder. “Stay down, sis!” he yells, but his voice cracks as a bullet rips through his chest. He hits the floor, blood pooling fast, his goofy smile gone.

“Luca!” I’m crawling to him, my hands slipping in his blood, my dress soaking red. He’s gasping, his eyes wide, but he grabs my hand, his grip weak. “Bella…” he chokes, blood on his lips. “You ne to get out of here”

“No, no, no!” I’m sobbing, my heart shattering, my hands on his face. “We gotta get you to a hospital!” I’m screaming, fumbling for my phone, but then—gunfire. The hitmen’s heads snap back, blood spraying, and they drop like sacks. A figure steps through the door, tall, ripped, eyes cold as f**k. Danny Kane, I’m guessing, and holy s**t, he’s a goddamn machine. At 28, he’s all muscle, all control, his gun still smoking, his face carved from stone.

“Isabella Russo?” His voice is low, rough, cutting through my sobs. I nod, tears streaming, Luca’s blood on my hands. “Damn you Luca,” he says, stepping over the bodies like they’re trash. “We gotta go.”

I’m shaking, staring at Luca, his eyes dull, his chest still. “I can’t leave him!” I yell, my voice raw, my hands clutching his jacket. “He needs a hospital!” Danny’s in my face, his hands grabbing my arms, bruising but steady. “You need to get out of here, Isabella. You stay, you’re dead.”

Luca’s hand twitches, and I’m crying harder, his voice a rasp. “Bella, just go!” he yells, blood bubbling, his goofy fire still there. “Go with Danny—now! It’ll be alright” His eyes close, and he’s gone, his hand limp in mine.

I’m screaming, my heart ripped open, but Danny’s pulling me up, his grip hard, his body shielding me. “Move!” he snaps, and I’m stumbling, Luca’s last words burning in my head—go with Danny. My sass kicks in, keeping me from breaking. “You better not f**k me over, Kane,” I spit, my voice shaky but sharp.

He doesn’t answer, just drags me down the stairs, his gun ready. My legs are jelly, my dress clinging to blood and sweat, but I’m running, the USB my only weapon. Danny’s all business, but his touch—rough, sure—sends a spark through me, my p***y tingling despite the grief. f**k, I’m a mess, wanting him when my brother’s blood’s still warm.

We hit the street, and he shoves me into a black SUV, peeling out, tires screeching. I’m clutching the USB, Luca’s voice echoing—trust him. My tears won’t stop, but that reckless fire’s burning hotter. Marco took my brother. I’m gonna make him bleed for it.

Danny’s driving like a maniac, his jaw tight, his eyes scanning. I glance at him, his sharp jaw, his hands gripping the wheel, and damn, he’s hot—dangerous, controlled, everything Marco’s not. My body’s betraying me, n*****s hard under my dress, and I curse myself. Luca’s dead, and I’m wet for this guy? I’m f****d up.

“Where the hell are we going?” I snap, my voice raw but defiant, my carefree edge clawing through.

“Safehouse,” he grunts, not looking at me. “You sure are crazy. Stealing from Marco, what the hell were you thinking .”

“No s**t,” I fire back, wiping tears, my sass keeping me alive. “You gonna save my ass, or what?”

His eyes flick to mine, dark, piercing, and f**k, it’s like he’s seeing my soul. My p***y throbs, and I hate it, but I lean into it, daring him with my stare. He looks away, knuckles white, but I catch his gaze on my thighs, my blood-stained dress. There’s something there, something dangerous, and I want to push it.

Then I see them—cop cars, lights flashing, screaming up behind us. My heart lurches, and I reach for my phone, but Danny’s hand clamps my wrist, his touch like fire. “Don’t. Marco’s cops’ll hand you to him.”

Luca’s warning hits me—no cops. My stomach twists, and I’m shaking, but Danny’s eyes hold mine, promising something I can’t name. The sirens are closing in, and I grip the USB, Luca’s blood still on me, my defiance the only thing keeping me from breaking. Marco’s coming, And this time there’s nothing romantic about his approach