Chapter 1
“Still stubborn?” She swung the rod again, breaking his other leg.
He let out a choked gasp, his shirt instantly soaked with cold sweat.
1451
Just as Isabelle was about to use the rod to pry open his mouth, the sound of a powerful car engine cut through the air. A man in a tailored suit strode into the courtyard, followed by four imposing bodyguards. The sheer force of his presence made Isabelle’s men
tense up instinctively.
“Marcus Austin? What are you doing here?” Isabelle frowned, her voice laced with hostility.
The Austin and Kinsman families had been business rivals for a decade, and Marcus was the competitor she despised most.
Marcus didn’t even look at her. His gaze fell on me. Seeing the blood on my wrist and the scene of carnage on the ground, his brow furrowed. He signaled his men, who effortlessly pushed Isabelle aside and helped me to my feet.
“Ms. Vance,” he said, his voice calm and steady. “I’ve come to request your services.”
Isabelle let out a shrill, piercing laugh. “Marcus, are you blind, or did you just hit your head? The whole city knows this woman is a charlatan who cons people out of their money. Is the Austin family fortune so vast you can afford to throw it away on gutter trash
like her?”
She suddenly lashed out, kicking me in the knees. I crumpled to the ground, my chin hitting the stone pavers with a sickening crack. The taste of blood flooded my mouth.
“Take a good look at her!” Isabelle shouted at Marcus, her foot pressing down on my back. “Yesterday she was picking through rotten vegetables at the farmer’s market, and today she’s playing at being a Tracker? I bet she couldn’t even find her own parents‘
graves!”
Marcus’s jaw tightened. “Isabelle, watch your mouth.”
“My mouth?” She laughed as if he’d told a joke, then grabbed my hair and shoved my face toward him. “You’re pinning your hopes
on this? I bet your niece was kidnapped by a fraud just like her! For all you know, she’s being sold to a brothel right now to pay this
bitch’s bills!”
My father, trembling with rage, tried to push himself up. “You’re lying! My daughter is not-”
Isabelle backhanded him across the face with the iron rod. Blood streamed from the corner of his mouth. “Shut up, old man! She
doesn’t have any real gift! Her parents probably raised her on money they scammed from a marriage proposal! This whole family is
a brood of vipers!”
