Chapter 2 Caged Among Wolves

• Izzy’s POV
• Sweat and bleach filled the room. I sat at the cold metal table, tied, my wrists already aching from the tight steel, a lone light flickering above my head. The blood was crusting into my fingernails and drying on my flesh.
• In front of me, a detective paced slowly. Every stride he took made his shoes click. It had been minutes since he had spoken. Simply paced back and forth while observing me as if I were an untamed beast.
• "I told you," I repeated in a raspy voice. "It was self-protection." He attempted to attack me.
• At last, the man paused and leaned forward. "You think we'll believe that? Your killer was a businessman. Honored. Linked.
• I yelled, "He bought me like I was an object." "He intended to—"
• He interrupted, saying, "You used a hairpin to stab him in the neck." In a matter of minutes, he bled out.
• "Because I was at a loss!" My voice broke. "I didn't organise it. I was attempting to live.
• With a groan, he took out a folder. It's funny. No missing person report has been submitted by your father. He informed us that you had been unstable for years. Addicted. Aggressive.
• I felt cold all over. "What?"
• He threw a copy onto the table. My name was on it. My picture. The sentences beneath it, however, seemed to be lies.
• Misuse of drugs. Inclinations to run away. History of mental instability.
• "No," I said. "That isn't accurate."
• He added icily, "Your father portrayed you as a hopeless case." "To be honest, things don't seem good for you."
• I looked intently at the report. My hands were shaking. My mind was racing. I said, "I didn't do anything wrong."
• The man got to his feet and looked down at me. "A lawyer designated by the court will represent you. But you'll be gone for a while, Miss Marino, between us.
• After two days, I found myself in a prison van with an orange jumpsuit stuck to my body and my wrists and ankles chained. I watched the world float by with my head resting against the window.
• I felt numb.
• There was no trial for me. No hearing. Just a brief directive, signed by a powerful person. The might of my father.
• Highest level of security.
• They weren't even acting as though I was being treated fairly.
• With a moan, the prison's gates opened. It appeared to be a fortification rather than a prison. Barbed wire. Towers of watch. Voices inside are screaming.
• One of the soldiers chuckled as they dragged me from the van. "Fresh meat."
• I didn't respond. I remained silent.
• They pushed me along the corridor, past cells with women staring through the bars, some of them mumbling things I didn't want to hear, others of them laughing.
• At the end of the row was my cell. Tiny. Dark. The mattress was barely more than a thick napkin, and the air was oppressive.
• I sat looking at the wall from the edge of the bed. I refrained from crying. I refrained from screaming. I had nothing.
• I was brought to the common area later that evening to eat. I picked at my tray. Since the arrest, my stomach had been constricted.
• Before someone moved into the seat across from me, I was sitting by myself.
• She had tattoos on her knuckles, sharp cheekbones, and an expression that said she had survived two or three hells.
• She remarked, "You're Marino's girl."
• I raised my head. "Who is inquiring?"
• Calmly, she remarked, "The person who has been here long enough to know that name gets people killed." "My name is Seline."
• I didn't respond.
• She leaned closer. "You must be protected. Whether or not you are aware of it.
• I answered, "I can take care of myself."
• She partially smiled at me. Yes, you can. You're sitting here looking like a scared kitten because of this.
• She was right, and I detested it. I detested feeling afraid. More than frightened. Lost.
• I said, "My father put me here."
• She arched an eyebrow. "You mean it's that bad?"
• "I was sold by him. Then allow me to get arrested. I told them I was a runaway junkie.
• Seline gave a low whistle. "Cold."
• I gave a nod. "He's even worse than the cold."
• She surveyed the room and then leaned closer. "There are a ton of individuals here who work for guys like him. Spy. Snitches. You believe you're by yourself? You're not. They're watching you.
• "Why are you stating this to me?" I inquired.
• "Because I detest individuals like him," she remarked. "And you might just be helpful,"
• I looked at her. "How useful?"
• She smiled. "Don't be concerned. We will address that.
• I was put in charge of washing the following day. Hours passed while I stood folding linens that smelled of bleach and suffering. My thoughts were darker than the jail I slept in, and my fingers were raw.
• That night, I returned to my room to find an envelope beneath my pillow.
• There was a newspaper copy inside.
• "Vincenzo Marino Speaks Out: Daughter Ran Away, Lost to Drugs," front page.
• Before the letters faded, I sat on the floor and looked at the headline. My chest constricted. My throat ached.
• He didn't simply discard me. He deleted me.
• I was being killed by him without a bullet.
• I yelled into the pillow till my throat hurt and balled the paper in my fists. I wanted to ruin everything. I desired to vanish.
• Someone knocked on the bars. Calm as ever, Seline stood there.
• "You witnessed it," she remarked.
• I hurriedly wiped my face and nodded.
• "You still wish to live?"
• I raised my head. "What am I supposed to do?"
• She smiled. "All right. Since we are emerging.
• She sneaked into my cell after shift change that night during lockdown.
• "We only have one chance," she said. "Tonight, tomorrow. The guards are changing positions. Only then will the security cameras fail to capture us.
• I looked at her. "Have you done this before?"
• "Once," she stated. "It didn't go well. I returned with a knife wound and a broken rib because of this.
• "What are you doing to help me?" I inquired.
• "Because I want to leave," she stated plainly. Additionally, you have a name. That's significant. You are essential.
• I took a deep breath. "All right."
• She bent over. "We'll do it tomorrow, after supper. Be prepared.
• She was about to leave when she heard footsteps running down the corridor.
• A guard with jingling keys paused at my cell.
• "Marino!" he exclaimed. "You have a guest. Right now.
• Before the guard could notice her, Seline disappeared into the darkness.
• I stood slowly, perplexed.
• A guest?
• Who would visit this place?
• I was shown to a private room by the security. Just one table. Two chairs. Overhead, a chilly light buzzes.
• I took over.
• And there he was.
• My dad.
• Marino, Vincenzo.
• Wearing a suit, he sat like a king with his legs crossed and a smug smirk on his face.
• "Hello, my love," he said.
• My blood froze.