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That didn’t make every decent thing that happened afterward bullshit.

But Isabeast wasn’t done spewing her poison, because her attention dropped to Rafael’s body.

Before she opened her mouth, I knew whatever came next was going to be worse.

“He protected you for twenty-five years, didn’t he?” she asked Isabella.

Isabella’s face crumpled.

“He lied for you. Watched over you. Gave up any chance of calling you his daughter because keeping you alive mattered more.” Isabeast looked down at Rafael as if the dead man were nothing more than another useful prop. “He managed to survive all those years while you stayed quiet and did what you were told.”

“Don’t,” Isabella said.

“Then you decided surviving wasn’t enough anymore, and you dragged him into your escape.” Isabeast’s voice went colder. “And now look at him.”

Isabella’s breathing turned rough.

My hand curled into a fist against my thigh.

“He gave you everything he had. And you’re already reaching for another man to protect you.”

Isabella’s right hand began moving toward the knife.

Mateo was watching Isabeast now. The rifleman’s attention kept shifting between Isabella and me, waiting for either of us to give him a reason to fire.

Neither of them had noticed Isabella’s hand yet.

I intended to keep it that way.

I leaned forward, drawing Mateo’s attention immediately back to me.

Isabeast glanced over at me.

“How long before she gets you killed too?” she sneered.

“Longer than you’re going to live if you keep pushing me.”

Isabeast gave a quiet laugh and stepped around Mateo.

“Marcela,” he warned.

“It’s fine.”

He clearly didn’t like it, but he didn’t pull her back.

Why would he?

As far as Mateo was concerned, they still controlled everything. My guns were on the ground. He had me covered. The rifleman had a clean shot at Isabella.

And Isabeast had apparently decided grief had turned Mouse helpless.

Stupid fucking mistake.

She crouched in front of Isabella.

“Look at me,” Isabeast ordered.

Isabella didn’t.