35. Ginevra
35
GINEVRA
T he floor beneath me is cold, and I can feel the rough concrete through my clothes as I sit huddled against the wall. The room is small, with nothing but bare, peeling walls and a dim bulb overhead. Musky air clings to my skin, smelling like dampness and rotten wood.
It’s very quiet here, except for the sound of my shallow breathing and water dripping in the distance somewhere.
It’s been three days...or maybe four. Heck! I’ve been holed up in here for a long time, and the only source of outside lighting is the small, broken window high against one wall in the room. I can’t exactly count the days accurately.
My stomach growls in the silence, and a tired sigh leaves my lips as I slide my hand against it. I’m starving. It feels like hours since my last meal was brought.
As if on cue, the door creaks open, snapping me from my thoughts. I tense, my heart pounding. It’s the same man as before, his smirk already plastered across his face. He swaggers in with a metal tray, his grin wide and smug as he kicks the tray toward me with his boot. The metal screeches against the concrete, the sound grating on my ears.
“You know the drill, Doll,” he drawls lazily. “Eat up. Can’t have you dying too soon, can we?”
The contents of the tray are the usual watery soup that barely passes for broth, and a slice of dry, hard bread. My stomach growls in hunger, and even though the sight of the food makes me nauseated, I know I have to eat it. I’ve been forcing it down since I got here, just enough to keep up my strength, just enough for the baby. I wonder if they know about my pregnancy. If they found out...I think it would be worse for me.
My unwelcome company stands there, watching me with those eyes full of malice and something else, something disgusting. He waits for me to break, to cry, to scream. But I’ve learned not to give him anything. Not anymore.
On my first day here, I insulted him when he touched me. He slapped me so hard that my ears rang for hours. Since then, I’ve been meek and quiet. I’ll do whatever it takes to leave this place alive and safe.
If I ever leave this place.
I pick up the bread, and crumbles fall into the tray as I bring it to my mouth, chewing slowly. My jaw aches as I struggle to digest the bread, so I bring up the bowl to sip some of the tasteless soup.
He chuckles, and the sound makes my skin crawl. “That’s right, sweetheart. You keep eating like a good little girl.”
Disgust rolls through my body as I glare at him, resisting the urge to throw the tray in his face. Instead, I drop my head back down and stare at the soup, the pale, lifeless vegetables floating on the dark green liquid.
“You think he’s coming for you, don’t you?” he asks, leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. “Dario. Your knight in shining armor.”
I stay silent. The first day I was here, after I woke up from my drugged slumber, I screamed at him, demanding to know why I was here. I threatened him, claiming that Dario was going to come save me. That had only made him laugh harder.
Now, I don’t give him the satisfaction.
He sighs, clearly bored with my lack of response. “We’ll see how long that hope lasts.”
He kicks the door shut as he leaves, the loud bang ringing in my ears long after he’s gone.
I sit in the quiet, cradling my belly. It’s only been days. But it feels like an eternity. I close my eyes and picture Dario panicking, frantically searching for me. I wonder what he thinks and how he feels.
He’s looking for me. He has to be. He’s coming. For me, for our baby.
Every hour since I got here has seemed like forever, the days blending into each other. I don’t know whether it’s day or night since the light in the room almost never changes. Sometimes I drift in and out of restless sleep, only to wake up in the same position, the same cold creeping into my bones.
I’ve dreamt of Dario every night since I got here. Sometimes, I dream of Lorenzo, as well. In my dreams, they find me, break down the door, and pull me out of this nightmare. But then I wake up, and I’m met with deafening silence.
I don’t know how long it’s been when the door opens again. Hours maybe. This time, it’s not the first guy. Instead, it’s another man, leaner, with a cruel smile that makes my skin crawl just as much. He never brings food with him, just his presence.
“Getting comfortable, are we?” he asks, pacing the room like a predator. When I don’t give him an answer, he chuckles. “You should be grateful. Boss doesn’t usually keep people alive this long.”
I watch him, my heart pounding in my chest, and as usual, I remain silent. I’ve learned to read them by now—their body language, the way they circle me like vultures. Like his colleague, he just wants a reaction. He wants to see me cower.
When he becomes annoyed by my lack of response, he crouches down in front of me, his breath hot and reeking of beer and cigarettes.
“You know, I wonder if Dario even cares about you. We sent him a message the moment we captured you, but we still haven’t heard a thing from him.” A wicked glint flashes in his eyes. His voice drops into a whisper. “Maybe he’s moved on by now. Found someone else. Realized you your stale pussy wasn’t worth the stress. Happens all the time.”
His words cut me like knives, but I force myself not to move or give him any reaction. I won’t let him see the fear or doubt creeping into my chest. Dario wouldn’t move on. He wouldn’t abandon me.
Or would he?
“I’ll bet you thought you were special,” he continues, his bitter snicker filling the room. “I don’t know why you women are always attracted to the bad guys. Men like Dario never settle down. They don’t get attached. They don’t fall in love.”
My heart is pounding as he leans in even further. I resist the urge to pull my face away, and that leaves only a few inches between us.
He smirks. “I see you still have some fight in you. But in time, you’ll see that I was right. Men like Dario only want you around for a good time. The moment things get tough, they disappear. It’s good thing we have your brother to rely on if your bastard husband doesn’t comply. A few million transferred to our offshore account, and we’ll send you back to him in pieces. Everyone wins.”
The words settle in the air between us, heavy and suffocating. But I don’t break my expression—or lack of.
He stands up with a sigh, clearly disappointed that I didn’t give him the reaction he wanted. He walks out the door and slams it shut again, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
The only time I ever get a semblance of peace here is when I’m asleep, which is why I rest against the wall and close my eyes, my food long forgotten as I try to shut the world out.
Time blurs as I slip into a dreamless slumber. When I wake up, my body feels weaker, and all my joints hurt. I hear the door open again, and I don’t bother getting up from where I’m sprawled on the ground.
“Time for your breakfast, Doll,” the familiar voice drawls.
Breakfast? I groan inwardly. It’s a new day. Another day of being stuck here.
At the smell of the soup, my stomach growls loudly. The guard lets out a loud guffaw, but I pay him no mind.
“You look pathetic, sweetheart.” He squats down in front of me, his eyes roaming over my face, lingering on the exposed skin where my t-shirt had lifted up. His grin widens, making my skin crawl. “You know, if you’re real nice to me, I might bring you something better tomorrow. Maybe even some fresh bread.”
When I still remain silent, he snarls and suddenly grabs my wrist, pulling me to my feet. I yelp and stumble. My body is weak from lack of food, but I manage to pull away from him, my heart racing.
“Get off me!” I shout, finally breaking my silence.
He laughs, still holding me. “Relax, Doll. Just wanted to see if you can still talk. It hurts my feelings when you ignore me, you know that?”
The air stills as the door is suddenly pushed open.
“Leave her the fuck alone,” says a man I don’t recognize.
The moment he leaves me, my body crashes into the floor. My body is trembling, tears pricking at my eyes.
“Sorry, Boss,” the first guy says in a terrified voice before scrambling out of the room.
The man who just stepped into the room isn’t like the others. He walks with a purpose, his eyes scanning my crumpled body on the floor. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, with a bandage covering part of his cheek, concealing what looks like a healing scar.
“What the fuck have they been doing to you?” he asks, sounding pissed as he reaches me. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know my men could be such brutes.”
“Who are you?” I ask, flinching as he tries to touch me.
He smiles, slow and cold. “My name is Rafeal, but you can call me Rafe. I’m the one who brought you here,” he says in a casual tone, as if we’re having a normal conversation.
I reel back slightly, my heart pounding in my chest. “Why?”
Rafe’s smile widens as he drags an old chair from the corner of the room, sitting down in front of me like this is all a game to him. “Because your man needs to learn a lesson.”
“Dario?” I breathe. “What does this have to do with him?”
Rafe leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as his eyes lock on mine. His brown eyes look soft, almost sympathetic, before he laughs.
“So you’re the reason Dario became weak,” he drawls, his eyes trailing over my body. “I can almost see why. You’re pretty.”
“Who the fuck are you?” I ask through clenched teeth.
He leans back in the seat, a sinister smile creeping across his face.
“Dario spared me once. I stole from him—goods worth billions.” He chuckles darkly. “He probably thought he was doing the right thing. I spun him a tale about my pathetic wife, about her having cancer.” His smirk widens. “Turns out, he bought it. Let me live. But here’s the kicker—that story? Pure bullshit.”
I stare at him, the room spinning as his words sink in.
His voice remains calm, almost mocking. “Well, it’s not entirely bullshit. My wife does have cancer. I just don’t give a damn.” He laughs, the sound cold and devoid of empathy.
I remain silent, staring at him as anger and disgust curl into one big ball in my chest.
“You know,” he inhales sharply, “I was shocked when Dario only left me this little scar on my face. The Dario I know doesn’t let anyone mess with him.” His eyes glint with malice as he grins. “I’m sure you know your boyfriend—oh, wait.” His gaze lands on my ring, and he laughs. “Your fiancé. I’m sure you know your fiancé is a murderer. Guess you’re not as innocent as you look.”
“I know Dario has done bad things, but it’s because of men like you,” I snarl, not knowing the source of the sudden burst of energy. “Men who take advantage of his kindness, steal from him, kidnap people...”
His loud laughter cuts me off, shaking his shoulders as amused tears well in his eyes. Rage simmers within me.
“Either you’re delusional or just plain stupid,” he finally retorts, the smirk on his face infuriating me further. “Now I see why Dario killed Esteban, broke your ex’s nose, and got someone fired for your sake. You basically worship him like a god.”
Has he been stalking us? How does he know all of this?
He grins at my shocked expression. “Word travels fast in our world, darling. Dario went soft—spared me because of you. Because he’s in love,” he sneers. “He wouldn’t even let me cash out from a small operation despite being a long-term associate. So I figured, why not hit him where it hurts?”
Dario didn’t do anything to this man, and this is how he decides to pay back kindness.
“You’re a bastard, I wish Dario had given you what you deserved,” I seethe, unable to hold back my anger.
The sudden slap across my cheek stuns me, a groan escaping my lips.
“Despite being a gentleman, I hit women, darling,” he says, his tone mocking.
“Gentleman?” I scoff, the pain throbbing in my face. “Is that what you tell yourself to feel better?”
You have a fucking death wish, Ginny, my inner voice whispers as he grabs my chin roughly, raising his hand to strike me again. I close my eyes, bracing for the blow.
“Enough!”
A new voice, one I recognize.
Rafe shoves me aside, and I crash against the wall behind me, but my focus isn’t on him. It’s on Rinaldo, who has just walked into the room.