Chapter 32
I lay on the bed, staring at the cracks in the ceiling. My body ached, exhaustion buried deep in my bones, but I couldn't sleep anymore. It hadn't since I woke up in this place.
I didn't know how long I had been here. Hours? Days? It felt like years.
The small, windowless room was a prison. A bed, a single chair and a locked door. There was a tiny bathroom attached but it was barely more than a closet. Just a toilet and a sink, no shower, no mirror. No way to wash off the filth clinging to my skin.
And Nico... he came every few hours.
Sometimes to check on me. Sometimes to force food down my throat when I refused to eat. Sometimes just to remind me that I was his captive that I had no choice but to obey. If I resisted, he hit me.
I curled in on myself, my fingers gripping the thin blanket like it was armor, like it could shield me from him. From this nightmare. A dull throb pounded at my temples, an endless rhythm of fear and helplessness.
The lock clicked.
I flinched at the sound, my body tensing instinctively. My fingers dug into the blanket, my breath shallow as the door swung open.
Nico stepped inside, his presence suffocating in the small room. In his hand, he held a white dress.
"Get up," he ordered, tossing it onto the bed beside me. "Clean yourself up and put this on."
I didn't move.
His jaw tightened, his eyes darkening. "Now, Alessa."
Still, I stayed frozen.
A long, slow breath escaped him and then his hand shot out, gripping my wrist. I flinched, the sudden contact sending a jolt of fear through me but he only pulled me up, forcing me to my feet. My legs wobbled, weak from disuse but he held me steady.
"Walk" he ordered, dragging me toward the door.
The hallway outside was dimly lit. I stole a glance around at the chipped walls, bare floors, the scent of dust and cigarette smoke clinging to the air. There were men stationed along the corridor. Watching. Silent.
My pulse pounded, my skin crawling under their gazes.
Nico didn't slow. He pushed open another door at the end of the hall and shoved me inside. A bathroom. Larger than the one in my room but still bare. A sink, a mirror, a bathtub. No locks.
I turned to face him, pressing myself against the cool tile, my nails digging into my palms.
His eyes flickered over me. "Five minutes." His voice was softer now, but the warning was there. "Don't make me come in."
The door shut behind him and I exhaled shakily, my knees nearly giving out.
I turned to the mirror.
A stranger stared back at me.
My lips were swollen, split at the corner. Dark circles stained the skin beneath my red, exhausted eyes. A bruise bloomed along my cheekbone, faint but there. Another on my collarbone, dark and ugly against my pale skin from the accident.
I gripped the edge of the sink, nausea rolling through me.
How long before Luca finds me?
I wanted Luca. I wanted him to come crashing through that door, to tear this place apart and drag me out of here. But what if he never found me? What if I was trapped here forever with Nico?
I squeezed my eyes shut.
No.
I couldn't think like that. Luca would come. He had to.
"You are taking too long," Nico murmured, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him.
I startled, my body tensing but I forced myself to stay still. Flinching only amused him.
I swallowed back the bile rising in my throat as Nico's fingers tangled in my hair, pulling it back with a gentleness that made my skin crawl. My body trembled, every nerve screaming at me to move, to run but there was nowhere to go.
His other hand dipped into the water, cupping it before trailing it over my cheek and my neck. The sensation sent a violent shiver down my spine.
His hands gripped the thin fabric of my torn dress and before I could react, he pulled it over my head in one swift motion. A sharp gasp escaped me as cool air brushed against my bare skin.
"Relax, Alessa." His voice was eerily soft, almost gentle as if he was comforting me. As if he hadn't just stripped me against my will.
A choked sound escaped me, part rage, part terror.
Nico only smirked.
I wanted to claw at him. To scream. To fight. But my body was betraying me, stiff and frozen under his touch. My heart pounded so hard I thought I might be sick.
His touch wasn't rushed. He let his gaze drag over me. His thumb brushed over my shoulder, his touch featherlight. My stomach twisted with nausea.
I bit my lip until I tasted blood.
He reached for the dress he had brought. It was plain and white.
"Lift your arms" he instructed but I stood frozen.
A muscle in his jaw ticked. "I won't ask again."
When I didn't move, he sighed and bunched up the fabric before pulling it over my head himself. I flinched when his fingers skimmed my waist, adjusting the dress as he smoothed it down my body.
"There" he murmured, stepping back slightly. His fingers trailed up, reaching for my hair, ruffling it like I was some doll he was dressing up.
I felt sick.
Nico stepped back, his eyes raking over me with an almost satisfied glint. "Perfect."
A sharp knock on the door shattered the silence.
"Boss" a voice called from the other side. "The priest is here."
My blood ran cold. A priest. White dress.
Nico smirked, brushing his knuckles against my cheek. "We are getting married, Alessa."
I couldn't move.
The weight of his words crushed the air from my lungs. My mind refused to catch up, refused to accept what he had just said.
We are getting married, Alessa.
No. No, no, no.
A sharp ringing filled my ears.
He glanced at me, his lips curving into a smirk. "You should be happy, cara"
My body was frozen, locked in place by the sheer horror of his words. My knees threatened to buckle, my breath shallow and uneven.
"You are about to become my wife." he added.
I shook my head, barely registering the movement. "No..." My voice was barely a whisper but it was all I could manage.
Nico's smirk didn't waver. "Yes. Now come with me."
My legs trembled beneath me, the world tilting. I didn't make a move.
Nico sighed. "Always so stubborn," he muttered.
Then, before I could react, his arms hooked around my legs and back.
A strangled sound tore from my throat as he lifted me, cradling me against his chest like I weighed nothing. I clawed at his arms, my nails sinking into his skin but he didn't so much as grunt.
"Shh," he murmured, his grip tightening as he carried me toward the door. "No point in fighting."
The door swung open and suddenly, we were outside the room. The hallway was the same. Dim, suffocating, lined with silent men who now didn't even look at me as Nico carried me past them. Like this was normal. Like I wasn't a human being, just some object being moved from one place to another.
I struggled again, my body jerking in his hold. "Nico, please." My voice was raw, shaking. "Don't do this."
His grip tightened. "It's already done, Alessa."
My chest ached, my vision blurring.
This wasn't happening.
This couldn't be happening.
But as he stepped into another room with a single table, a man in a long white robe and a cross standing beside it, a book in his hands. I knew the truth.
It was happening.
I stumbled as Nico dropped me in front of the priest, my legs barely holding me up. His grip on my waist remained firm, his fingers digging into my skin like a silent warning that there was no escaping this.
The priest stood before us, his gaze flickering between Nico and me. He was older, his face weathered, his hands trembling slightly as he turned the pages of the book in front of him. His eyes landed on me and something in them shifted. Pity.
"She doesn't look happy," he said, his voice hesitant.
My throat closed.
Happy?
I wanted to scream. To cry. To break down right here on the cold floor and beg him or beg anyone to stop this.
Nico's fingers tightened around mine, a silent, suffocating command.
"She is nervous," he said smoothly, his voice carrying the same calm cruelty that had stripped me bare minutes ago. "It's a big day, after all."
The priest's lips pressed into a thin line. He didn't believe him.
He shouldn't.
Because I wasn't nervous.
I was terrified.
My fingers twitched in Nico's grasp, a weak attempt to pull away but he didn't let me go.
I swallowed hard, my eyes pleading with the priest, silently screaming for him to do something, anything.
He hesitated.
For a moment, just a brief, fleeting second, I thought maybe he would refuse. That he would step back and shake his head and tell Nico no. That he would save me.
But then he exhaled, shoulders sagging and looked down at the book.
"Shall we begin?"
Nico shifted beside me, his hand never loosening its grip on mine as he guided me into position. I stood stiffly in front of the priest, my body trembling, my breaths coming too fast, too shallow. The walls felt like they were closing in, suffocating me.
The priest looked between us again, hesitation flickering in his tired eyes. "Before we begin," he said carefully, his gaze lingering on me, "I must ask. Are you both here on your own free will?"
Silence.
Nico turned his head slightly at me, his grip tightening in silent warning.
I swallowed hard, my heartbeat a frantic, erratic rhythm in my chest. My body screamed at me to stay silent, to not provoke him but I couldn't.
Slowly, I shook my head.
The moment I shook my head, the room dropped into a suffocating silence. The priest stiffened, his lips parting as if to speak, but before he could-
Bang!
A gunshot shattered the silence.
Then another.
A shout. The heavy thud of something or someone hitting the ground.
More gunshots rang out, rapid and deafening, followed by the sharp, panicked shouts of men outside the door. Heavy footsteps pounded against the floors, bodies colliding, furniture crashing.
Nico released my hand, his entire body coiling with tension. He reached for the gun holstered at his side, his eyes dark as he turned toward the door.
The priest stumbled backward, his face pale with fear. "Dear God..." he whispered, pressing himself against the wall.
A sharp ache pulsed through my chest as panic set in. My ears rang, my vision tunneled but my body remained locked in place.
Luca.
Was it him? Was he here?
Please, let it be him.
The door burst open. A man staggered in, blood staining his shirt, his breath ragged. "Boss-" His words died in his throat as another shot rang out and he crumpled to the ground, lifeless.
A scream tore from my throat.
Nico shoved me behind him, his gun raised, his jaw clenched. "Stay behind me" he ordered, his voice low and cold but I could barely register it.
Another body fell in the doorway. Then another.
And then-
A shadow filled the entrance, the barrel of a gun gleaming under the dim light.
My breath caught.
My heart stopped.
Luca.