The car suddenly swerved off the highway.
I grabbed the door handle as we turned down a narrow road I hadn't even seen. Trees flew past the windows. My backpack slid across the seat, and the huge man caught it before I could.
"Where are we going?" I demanded. "You said the estate was two hours away!"
"Change of plans," the lawyer-man—Marco, I'd heard the driver call him—said. "Mr. Castellano is coming to meet us instead."
My stomach dropped. "Here? In the middle of nowhere?"
The huge man—the one who'd pointed a gun at my head—laughed. "Scared, little girl?"
"My name is Isabella," I snapped. I was terrified, but I wouldn't let them see it. Mom had always said bullies fed on fear. "And yes, I'm scared. You kidnapped me and threatened to kill me. What do you expect?"
"Fair point," Marco said quietly.
The car pulled into a clearing where a massive building stood—some kind of old barn that had been fixed up. Three other vehicles were already parked outside.
We stopped, and Marco opened his door. "Out. And don't try to run. We're twenty miles from the nearest town."
I climbed out, my legs shaky. The cold air bit through my sweater. Snow crunched under my feet.
The barn door opened, and three men walked out.
The first one was younger than the others, maybe mid-twenties. He moved like a fighter—balanced and ready. Even in the cold, he just wore a t-shirt that showed off muscular arms covered in scars.
The second man was tall and lean, carrying a hockey stick. A hockey stick. Who brings sports equipment to a criminal meeting?
The third man wore a leather jacket and had grease stains on his hands. He looked me up and down like I was a car he was thinking about buying.
"This is her?" the fighter asked. "She's just a kid."
"I'm twenty-three," I said.
"Like I said. A kid." But he didn't sound mean about it. Just stating a fact.
Marco gestured to each man. "Isabella, meet your... let's call them your handlers. This is Luca." He pointed to the huge man who'd broken down my door. "He handles security."
Luca grinned. "I handle problems."
"This is Dante." The hockey player gave me a small nod. "He manages our sports investments."
"And Alessandro." The man in the leather jacket wiped his greasy hands on a rag. "Transportation specialist."
"You mean criminal thugs," I said.
Alessandro laughed. "She's got fire. I like that."
"You won't like it when she causes trouble," Luca muttered.
"Why am I meeting all of you?" I asked. "I thought I was being taken to Castellano."
"You are," Marco said. "But these three will be watching you. Making sure you don't run. Making sure you cooperate."
"You mean they're my prison guards."
"Think of them as your new roommates."
My blood ran cold. "Roommates?"
The barn door opened again, and a man stepped out who made all the others look small. Not because he was huge—he wasn't. But because of the way he carried himself. Like he owned the world and everyone in it.
He was older, maybe fifty, with gray in his dark hair. He wore an expensive suit that probably cost more than my entire bookstore.
Everyone went silent.
"Mr. Castellano," Marco said, and I heard real fear in his voice.
Castellano walked straight to me. His eyes were dark and cold, like looking into a frozen lake.
"Isabella Morales," he said. His voice was smooth and calm, which somehow made him scarier. "You have something I want."
"I don't have anything," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
"You have information. Your father took something from me. Something very important. And I believe you know where it is."
"I haven't seen my father in ten years!"
"But you have your mother's journal. You've been reading her research on my organization." He smiled, and it made my skin crawl. "Tell me, what did you learn about the Diamond Hearts?"
I swallowed hard. "Just that you exist. That my mom was investigating you before she died."
"And you think we killed her."
It wasn't a question. He said it like he already knew what I was thinking.
"Did you?" I asked quietly.
"What do you think?"
"I think you're dangerous people who hurt anyone who gets in your way."
Castellano studied me for a long moment. Then he turned to Marco. "She's smart. Good. I can use smart."
"Use me for what?" I demanded.
"Your father stole something from me three years ago. Right before your mother died. I don't think that timing is a coincidence." He stepped closer. "I think your mother discovered what your father took. I think that's why she died."
My heart hammered in my chest. "You're saying my dad got my mom killed?"
"I'm saying your father made enemies of the wrong people. And those enemies decided to send him a message." Castellano's eyes bore into mine. "They killed your mother to punish him."
The world tilted. I grabbed the car to steady myself.
Mom died because of Dad? Because he stole from these people?
"You're lying," I whispered.
"I don't lie. I don't need to." Castellano pulled out his phone and showed me a photograph. "This was taken the night before your mother died."
It was Mom. Standing in a parking lot, talking to someone whose face was turned away from the camera.
"Who is that?" I asked.
"Your father."
I stared at the photo. It couldn't be. Dad had disappeared a year before Mom died. That's what she'd always told me.
"Mom said Dad left us. That he abandoned us."
"She lied to protect you. Your father was still in contact with her. Still putting her in danger." Castellano put the phone away. "He stole something from me. Something I need back. And you're going to help me find it."
"I don't know where he is!"
"No. But you have your mother's journal. And I'm willing to bet she wrote something in there—some clue about what your father took and where he hid it." His smile returned. "You're going to read every page. Study every word. And you're going to figure it out."
"And if I can't?"
"Then Luca, Dante, and Alessandro will encourage you to try harder."
"You mean torture me."
"I prefer the word 'motivation.'" Castellano turned to the four men. "Take her to the apartment. Keep her comfortable but guarded. She doesn't leave, she doesn't contact anyone, she doesn't do anything without permission. Understood?"
"Yes, sir," they all said together.
"Isabella." Castellano looked at me one last time. "You have one month to figure out what your father took and where he hid it. If you succeed, I'll let you go free and clear. The debt will be paid."
"And if I fail?"
"Then you'll spend the rest of your life working for me. Or until your father surfaces to save you." His eyes glittered. "Whichever comes first."
He walked to his car and drove away, leaving me with the four men.
For a long moment, no one spoke.
Then Dante broke the silence. "Well, this is going to be interesting."
"Get her in the car," Luca ordered. "We've got a two-hour drive."
They loaded me back into the vehicle. This time Alessandro drove, with Dante in the passenger seat. I was in the back between Marco and Luca again.
As we pulled back onto the highway, my mind raced.
Dad had seen Mom the night before she died. They'd been in contact. She'd lied to me.
Why would she lie?
What had Dad stolen that was so important Castellano would kill Mom over it?
And how was I supposed to find it when I had no idea where to even start?
I thought about Mom's journal in my backpack. I'd read it so many times. But maybe I'd missed something. Maybe there was a clue hidden in her words.
I had one month to find it. One month to save myself.
The car was quiet except for the sound of tires on wet road. Snow had started falling again, covering everything in white.
"Can I ask you something?" I said quietly.
"Depends on the question," Marco answered.
"Why four of you? Why do you all need to guard me?"
Luca chuckled. "You don't get it yet, do you? You're not just any prisoner. You're Castellano's most important project right now."
"What's so important about what my dad stole?"
The four men exchanged glances.
"You'll find out soon enough," Alessandro said from the driver's seat.
"If you figure it out from the journal," Dante added.
"And if you don't," Luca finished, "we'll all find out together when Castellano loses his patience."
That didn't sound good.
We drove for another hour in silence. The city appeared in the distance—tall buildings reaching into the gray sky.
But we didn't stop in the city. We drove through it and out the other side, to an area I'd never seen before. Huge houses lined the streets. Mansions, really.
The car pulled up to a building that looked like a fancy hotel.
"Here we are," Marco announced. "Home sweet home."
They led me inside, through a lobby fancier than anywhere I'd ever been. Up an elevator to the top floor.
The apartment they brought me to was massive. Floor-to-ceiling windows. Modern furniture. A kitchen bigger than my entire apartment above the bookstore.
"You'll stay here," Marco said. "We'll take shifts watching you. Two of us will always be here."
"This is my prison?" I looked around in disbelief. "It's nicer than anywhere I've ever lived."
"Castellano believes in comfort," Dante said. "He's not a monster."
"He kidnapped me and threatened to enslave me forever. That's pretty monstrous."
"Fair point," Alessandro admitted.
Luca dropped my backpack on the couch. "Your room is through there. You have everything you need. Food, clothes, bathroom. The windows don't open, and there are cameras everywhere except the bathroom. Don't even think about escaping."
"Where would I go? I don't even know where we are."
"Smart girl," Marco said.
They left me alone in the massive living room. I could hear them talking in the kitchen, discussing guard schedules.
I grabbed my backpack and found Mom's journal. Held it against my chest.
"Okay, Mom," I whispered. "If you left me any clues, now would be a really good time for me to find them."
I was about to open the journal when my eyes landed on something that made my blood freeze.
On the coffee table sat a photograph in a silver frame.
It was a picture of four men at a hockey game, arms around each other, laughing.
I recognized three of them immediately: Luca, Dante, and Alessandro. Younger, but definitely them.
The fourth man in the photo was my father.
My father was friends with the Diamond Hearts.
My father was one of them.
I grabbed the frame with shaking hands and walked to the kitchen doorway.
All four men were standing there. They'd been waiting for me to see it.
"Surprise," Luca said.
"Your father," Marco explained slowly, "wasn't just someone who worked for us. He was one of us. He was our brother."
"Which makes what he did," Alessandro added, his voice hard, "the ultimate betrayal."
"And makes you," Dante finished, "family."
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.
My father wasn't just a thief. He was a member of the Diamond Hearts. One of the criminals Mom had been investigating.
Which meant—
"Did my father know Mom was investigating the Diamond Hearts?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
The four men looked at each other.
Then Marco spoke the words that shattered my world: "Your father is the one who told us she was investigating. He's the one who gave the order to kill her."