Chapter 11 · Cold Diamonds

The clasp clicked, and the air died in my throat.

Diamonds. Freezing cold, biting right into my pulse.

Every tiny stone had a faint red blinker sealed inside. I could feel each one pulsing against my skin like a hot wire.

"Don't touch it," Dante said from behind me. "You'll only tear your neck up."

I touched it anyway.

He wasn't lying. The band didn't budge. No seam, no release latch, nothing my nails could pry. Just custom hardware made to keep an animal where it belonged.

"A tracker," I said, my voice shaking before I could catch it. "You put a leash on me. A pretty one."

"I put diamonds on my wife." His tone was flat, bored, like he was ordering an espresso. "If the collar bothers you, stop running."

His phone was still face-down on the desk where he'd slammed it. Two minutes ago, my uncle Salvatore's voice had been crackling through the speaker, sweet as poison. *Is my little girl behaving, Dante?*

And I'd lied right into the mic.