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If I don’t try, I’ll die right here on this disgusting floor.

I’m bleeding, but he managed to miss my carotid artery and windpipe. If I make it to the street for help, I might survive this.

Head dizzy, I get to my feet while keeping as much pressure on my wound as possible. I use my other hand to press the rag over my hand to catch the blood. I don’t want to leave a trail for him to find me, nor do I want to go in the direction of my captor, so I turn for the back of the building closest to the river.

The shackles on my feet keep me moving slowly. It’s probably best. I don’t want my heart pumping more blood than necessary. I already feel it leaking between my fingers, soaking the rag.

My vision is blurring by the time I step out of the building. I see a pier nearby. I’m pretty sure there’s a ferry, which should mean people. I head in that direction, but I don’t make it far when I stumble to my knees. It doesn’t hurt like it should when I hit the ground.

Shouldn’t that hurt?

My hand with the rag is now on the concrete. Seeing the blood makes my head spin even more.

So dizzy … I just need to lie down for a minute.

It’s dark, and I’m so incredibly tired. Why am I so tired?

I let my body finally come to rest on the sidewalk, still warm from the summer heat.

It’s such a blissful relief.

So welcoming.

So warm.

I watch the lights flickering off the water until the world … goes … dark…

CHAPTER 15

ISA

Elio’s fury carves my heart wide open. If the scar across his throat is any indication, he did die that day. He went through a hell I can’t even imagine and clawed his way back. Do I have a right to judge him on his methods of survival?

Maybe. Maybe not.

All of this is so shocking that I don’t know what to think. It’s even hard for me to remember those days and weeks after his disappearance. Dredging up the past only seems to summon a wave of nausea.

I blink several times until the emotions pooling in my eyes subside.

“What happened to you? Where have you been all these years?” I whisper.

“Don’t pretend to care. It doesn’t suit you,” Elio claps back, now cool and detached as he turns dismissively to talk to the man standing by the windows. I can’t hear what he says, but the other man nods, and the two cross the room together and disappear around a corner deeper inside the boat.

I look around awkwardly, not sure what I’m supposed to do. If Elio truly is the Reaper, am I in danger? Should I be kicking and screaming my way out of here?

It’s hard for me to imagine him hurting me, but can I trust my judgment where he’s concerned? He isn’t his brother. I don’t know the man Elio has become.

I peek over my shoulder toward the door leading to the pier, then glance back at the two men still hanging out in the room with me. They’re sitting in club chairs at a small round table, both watching my every move. Either man would look intimidating on his own, so together, they are downright terrifying.

When one of them motions with a nod to the sofa, signaling for me to have a seat, I don’t argue. I gather my gown and sit. It’s a good chance for me to try to wrap my head around everything that’s just happened.

Elio is alive, and he’s harboring a world of anger. Why? None of us had anything to do with him being taken so many years ago. And I know his family would have done anything to get him back. Why does he seem like he’s got a vendetta? I’m assuming it’s the same reason he never came back until now. Which begs the question, why did he finally decide to return? Does it have something to do with why I’m here?

So many questions, my head begins to pound.

And on top of it all, my poor family has got to be terrified for me. My bridesmaids will tell the others that DiAngelo came to speak to me, which the real DiAngelo will know wasn’t accurate. Will they figure out that Elio is alive? Or will they think it’s an elaborate scheme by an enemy?

I suppose both are true.