Page 89 of Shackled

She holds her breath, and I hold mine along with hers. I grip her to my chest. Her breathing is ragged, but her heart beats as hard as ever.

Finally, a voice comes on the line.

“I’ve got her.”

It’s Ollie.

“You have Renata? Put her on the phone!” Isabella demands.

There’s a series of rustles and low voices before a weak female voice comes on the line. “Isabella?”

“Renata! Are you alright?”

“Sí, estoy bien, no te preocupes por mí. ¿Se fue? El tipo grande mató a Carlos. Gracias a Dios. Diles, Isabella.”

Isabella’s eyes shine with relief and determination.

“Goddamn it, woman. What is she saying?” I demand, my voice impatient.

Isabella lets out a ragged breath. “She said she’s fine. She asked if Javier was gone. She said ‘the big guy’ killed Carlos, thank God. That would be Viktor.” She swallows hard. “And then she said to tell them…”

“Tell us what?”

Isabella shakes her head, her eyes pained but victorious. “Tell the Los Sangre Dorado their leaders are dead. Tell them they owe their allegiance to me and you now.”

In the dim light of the warehouse, she flips on her camera and flashes a triumphant grin.

“I am Isabella Morales Romanova,” she declares. “And this is my husband, Lev Romanov. Javier Morales is dead. Today marks the end of an era. Tomorrow, a new one begins. I want all those loyal to the Los Sangre Dorada cartel to report to me immediately. We will convene this evening.”

The message sent, she lowers the camera, her expression fierce and resolute.

“Lev. Take me home.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Isabella

As she lowers the camera, I see the tension in her shoulders ease. We’re not out of the woods yet after Javier’s death, but she’s accomplished what she set out to do. Determination is etched in the lines of her face, and I know she’s ready to face whatever comes next.

She can do this.

We can do this.

The silence in the room is almost deafening, the air thick with the weight of our actions. I glance at her, wary yet relieved.

“No remorse for your brother?” I ask, studying her face.

“None,” she replies without hesitation. “Lingering doubt? Remorse for my brother?” She scoffs, tossing her head. “It’s like you don’t know me at all. This was an end to an era that needed ending. My brother was a terrible human who deserved none of the power or accolades he garnered.” Her eyes are cold, resolute. “I hated what I had to do, but he would only hurt more people.” She shakes her head. “It had to be done.”

“I understand,” I say softly. “I’m sorry it came to that, but I’m proud of you. Do you think he had any loyal followers left?”

“Time will tell, but I suspect not,” she says. “He was the type of leader others wanted dead.”

She looks exhausted, and I can see the weight of everything starting to bear down on her. “Now, Lev,” she says with a heavy sigh. “Take me home. Please.”

I hold her gaze, feeling a surge of protectiveness. “Which home, beautiful?” I ask, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Her eyes flutter closed at the kiss. “The one here in America first. We’ll have to will travel to Columbia next.”

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