Chapter 4

Isabela Walker POV

I had barely made it inside the lobby of Aunt May's building before a hand clamped around my upper arm.

The grip was bruising, tight enough to cut off circulation.

I was spun around, my body slamming into a hard chest.

Kason.

His eyes were bloodshot, wild with an emotion I couldn't place.

He smelled of scotch and unadulterated rage.

"You whore," he hissed.

The word hung in the air between us, ugly and violent, like a physical blow.

"Let go of me," I said, my voice trembling as I tried to pry his fingers off my arm.

"Is that who you're sleeping with?" he shouted, shaking me so hard my teeth rattled. "Hadley Payne? The man who wants to wipe our family off the map? Did you spread your legs for him just to get back at me?"

"I didn't-"

*Smack.*

The sound was sickeningly loud.

My head snapped to the side.

My cheek stung like fire, the heat spreading instantly across my skin.

The lobby went deathly silent.

I touched my face, staring at him in utter shock.

Kason had never hit me.

He had yelled. He had ignored me. He had broken my heart a thousand times over.

But he had never raised a hand to me.

He stared at his own palm, his chest heaving as if he couldn't believe what he had just done.

For a second, I saw regret flash in his eyes, a flicker of the man I used to know.

But then, his expression hardened. It was as if Dalia's voice was echoing in his head, twisting the narrative even now.

"You made me do that," he growled, his voice dropping to a dangerous low. "You disrespect the Family. You disrespect me."

He grabbed my wrist again, his grip unforgiving.

"You're coming home."

"No," I screamed, panic finally piercing through the shock. "I'm not going back!"

I tried to run toward the elevator.

I tried to get to the safety of Aunt May's apartment, desperate for a locked door.

But Kason was stronger.

He dragged me across the marble floor like a rag doll.

My heels scraped against the tile, a screeching protest that went unanswered.

The doorman looked away, his face pale, terrified of the Oneal heir.

"You are Oneal property," Kason snarled, hauling me out the door and shoving me into the back of his waiting SUV. "You don't leave until I say you leave."

He climbed in after me and locked the doors, the sound of the tumblers clicking into place sealing my fate.

"Drive," he ordered the driver.

I huddled against the door, clutching my stinging cheek, trying to make myself as small as possible.

I looked at him.

I really looked at him.

The jawline I used to trace with my fingers.

The eyes I used to dream about.

But there was nothing there now but a monster.

He wasn't my protector.

He was my jailer.

And I realized, with a terrifying clarity, that if I didn't get out soon, I wouldn't just lose my freedom.

I would lose my life.