Page 73 of Isabelle’s Forbidden Love

In the next instance, something hard hit the back of her head, and she instantly staggered. A second hit made her lurch forward, falling into the trunk head first, losing her grip on her handbag. She tried to lift herself back up, but Nelson had already snatched her hands and pulled them behind her back. A second later she felt a silver chain being wrapped around her wrists. The metal burned into her skin like acid, making her inhale the scent of burning skin and hair.

She kicked back with her legs, but in her current position, she didn’t have any leverage. “Let go of me!”

“Bitch,” he cursed. “Guess just binding your wrists isn’t enough.” There was a sinister quality to his voice, and it made her shiver with disgust.

“Fuck you!”

Nelson chuckled, then silver touched her neck, and she screamed in pain.

“We can’t have you scream the whole way,” he said, and ripped her head to the side, shoved a piece of cloth into her mouth, and took the second silver chain to hold it in place, binding it behind her head.

The silver burned painfully into her face, but she had to fight him.

“If you struggle, it only hurts more.” He forced her legs inside and took her handbag. “But don’t worry. You’re not the only one who’s gonna be in pain. Orlando will be in agony once he sees what I’ll be doing to you.”

He slammed the trunk shut. Darkness surrounded her. A moment later, the car began to move.

Nelson kidnapping her could only mean one thing, but she wasn’t ready to acknowledge it. All she could think about was her first abduction when she’d been twenty. The fear she’d gone through back then came back with a vengeance. Stronger this time. Because this time it wasn’t a case of mistaken identity. This time, she knew why she was being kidnapped.

Everything was so clear now. All of a sudden, she realized from where she recognized the handwriting of the anonymous note that Orlando had received: from the Hong murder file, the one that Nelson Sarduni had put together for her. And Nelson’s name? If only she’d played a game of Scrabble and rearranged the thirteen letters, she would have seen in earlier.

Nelson Sarduni—or should she call him Dennis LaRuson?—had kidnapped her because he wanted to get revenge on Orlando.

And she would be the pawn in his evil game.

How had she not suspected him?

39

The door swung open fully, almost hitting him in the face. Orlando reared back instinctively. Samson rushed in, tackling him with such force that Orlando was lifted off his feet in one instant, and slammed down on the floor in the next. Had he been human, his ribs would have cracked from the violent impact.

Samson jumped onto him, fangs flashing, eyes glaring red, and landed a hard fist in Orlando’s face. “That’s for touching my daughter!”

Orlando pushed him back, catapulting Samson off him despite his disadvantaged position. He jumped up quickly, while he assessed the situation. Samson hadn’t come alone. Behind him, Gabriel, Haven, and Amaury barged into the condo.

“I haven’t hurt Isabelle!” Orlando ground out.

“You fucking asshole!” Samson cursed and barreled toward him once more.

He didn’t want to hit Samson, however, he had no choice but to defend himself. He blocked Samson’s next punch with his raised arms, but didn’t hit back. The punches and kicks kept coming.

“Fuck! Samson! Stop!”

But Samson didn’t listen to him. He kept kicking him, punching him, and catapulting him against the wall. The next blow Samson delivered broke Orlando’s nose, and he smelled blood. But he had no time to worry about his bleeding nose, because now his opponent swiped his claws over Orlando’s torso, cutting through his shirt and leaving bleeding cuts behind.

It appeared that his boss needed to let his anger out on him, and that process would take as long as it took. But Orlando didn’t have time for this.

When Samson punched him again, Orlando grabbed his fist, blocking him, before he kicked Samson and catapulted him to the opposite wall. He charged at him, and pressed Samson against the wall, pinning him there with his superior strength and body weight.

“I have no intention of hurting you or anybody else,” Orlando ground out, “but I don’t have time for this beating right now. Isabelle is in danger.” He noticed the other three vampires approach from the side and cast them a sideways look. “Not a step closer.”

“Take your fucking hands off me,” Samson ordered.

“First you listen to me,” Orlando replied. “I know who framed me for the murders. It’s—”

Samson glared at him, trying to free himself from his grip. “Framed? Bullshit. Is that what you told Isabelle?”

“Isabelle knows it’s the truth. I’m innocent.” He heard the three others snort at that comment, and turned his head to them. “Don’t just stand there! Call Isabelle, and warn her about Nelson Sarduni. He’s the killer.”