Page 124 of Dangerous Beginnings

Isabella.

She kneels in the mud, trembling, her arms raised above her head as the rain streaks down her pale cheeks, mingling with the silent tears she can’t hold back. Her gaze, wide and terrified, is fixed on me, pleading silently.

“Isabella Marie Brown,” the loudspeaker commands again, sharp and unforgiving. “Step away from him! Place your hands on your head! You are under arrest for aiding and abetting a criminal fugitive!”

My jaw tightens at the words. My men shift behind me, eager for the order to open fire. My mind calculates every angle, every possibility. We could win. A precise volley, a retreat into the shadows—this field could be ours.

But my eyes don’t leave her.

She doesn’t move, her body shaking as the officer’s voice grows more demanding. Her lips part, but no sound comes out. She’s caught in their web, and it takes everything in me not to rip her from their grasp.

“Isabella,” I say, my voice sharp and cold, cutting through therainfall. “Do what they say.”

She flinches at the command, her tears falling faster now. The fear in her eyes cuts deeper than I want to admit, but I keep my face impassive, my voice devoid of softness. She doesn’t need tenderness now; she needs survival.

And this is how I will give her that.

Slowly, hesitantly, she rises to her feet, her hands trembling as she laces them behind her head. Rain drips from her hair, her frame is so small and fragile it twists something inside me—a dark, gnawing thing I can’t suppress.

“Now, get on your knees!” the agent barks.

She hesitates, just for a moment, before the strength leaves her legs and she collapses into the mud. The sound of her knees hitting the ground echoes louder than the rain.

And then they come for her.

The SWAT officers move in like predators, their heavy boots sinking into the earth as they close in on her. I don’t move, don’t speak, though every muscle in my body screams to intervene.

They seize her roughly, jerking her arms back as cuffs are snapped onto her delicate wrists. Her head bows, her wet hair hiding her face, but I can still see the trembling of her shoulders, the way her body shivers under their grasp.

One of them yanks her to her feet, and she stumbles, barely managing to stay upright. Her wide, tear-filled eyes find mine, and the silent plea there is enough to unravel every carefully constructed wall I’ve built around myself.

But I don’t let it show.

“Take her back,” one of the officers orders, his tone brisk.

As they pull her away, something inside me twists violently. The sight of her being dragged through the mud, her face pale and streaked with rain, ignites a fury I can’t suppress. She knows everything—every secret, every sin, every crime—and yet that’s not why this doesn’t sit right.

It’s her, and her confession earlier.

The way she looks at me like I’m something more than the monster I’ve become. The way her presence feels like a part of me I thought I lost—a flicker of warmth in the endless cold. I haven’t felt this since my sister’s laughter was silenced and my mother’s voice became a ghost.

Care. Protectiveness. Love.

The words are foreign, almost meaningless, but their weight presses against my chest as the rain turns heavy, drenching everything. My heart falters a single uneven beat that echoes louder than the storm.

I love her.

“Boss?” one of my men murmurs behind me, his tone hesitant. They’re waiting. They know we can take this fight, that we have the upper hand.

But I raise my hand, signaling them to hold.

I once told her I would go to extreme lengths for her, but never expected this.

The SWAT officer holding Isabella pauses, confused by the sudden stillness. The agents exchange glances, their weapons still trained on me, but the tension shifts.

“I said,stand down,” I repeat, my voice carrying over the rain, calm and deliberate.

The world stops. The agents freeze. My men look at me like I’ve lost my mind.

---