She didn't dare finish the thought.
"Brandon Hughes!" she cried, her voice already hoarse from shouting. "Even if I were a prostitute, I would still have the right to choose my clients! I said no!" Tears burned in her eyes as she struggled harder. "I will not sell myself to you—no matter how much money you offer! Let me go!"
Her fear sharpened into desperate resolve.
Gathering all her strength, she lifted her leg and kicked him hard in the shin.
"Ah—!"
The cry tore from him before he could stop it. Pain shot through his leg, and his grip loosened instinctively.
That was all she needed.
The moment his hand slackened, Isabella wrenched herself free. She didn't hesitate, didn't look back. Turning sharply, she ran, her heart pounding wildly as she fled without direction, driven by nothing but the instinct to escape.
She didn't look back.
Isabella ran until her lungs burned and her legs trembled, the sounds behind her dissolving into meaningless noise.
