Chapter 54
Elena
Lazaro hauled me out of the freezer before he called Maximo. I’m so cold, I can’t feel my fingers or toes. Even my lips are numb. Though my cheek pulses with hot pain from where Lazaro smacked me for trying to warn my husband away.
It’s no use. None of it is.
My attempt to convince Lazaro that Maximo doesn’t care about me failed. My warning over the phone was cut short. Now a terrible sense of futility overwhelms me as Lazaro leaves to meet with Maximo—without me. He never intended to hand me over. There’s no exchanging my life for my husband’s.
We’re both going to die. All of us. Unless I do something.
Lazaro steps out, leaving me alone in the office. His words continue to ring in my head. Filthy Irish bastard.
Filthy Irish bastard.
Filthy Irish bastard.
I know that voice. That phrase.
The room spins as the bottom drops out of my stomach.
I hear those words one more time, slightly scratchy and echoey like they’re coming through on speaker phone. That filthy kitchen. Those iron bars. Dread swallows me whole.
There was a third man involved in my kidnapping. Lazaro. My own father’s underboss. He wanted to stop the wedding and therefore the peace treaty from going through between the Italians and the Irish.
Oh God.
I can’t breathe. My hands shake. I think I’m going to pass out, or throw up, or both.
Dario comes into the office, dragging Julianna in with him.
He releases her and she crumples to the floor.
That thud slams me back into the here and now.
I suck in several deep breaths. Now isn’t the time to have a panic attack.
Yes, my third captor’s still alive. But right now, he’s not my biggest problem.
Julianna. I crawl over to her, turning her over in my arms. She’s unconscious, her face swollen and bruised. Red finger marks riddle her upper arms. The split across her eyebrow freely bleeds.
Those bastards! I glare at Dario, who ignores me. He moves across the room to the liquor cart and pours himself a drink.
“Julianna?” I smooth her raven hair away from her face.
“I’m so sorry.” I doubt she can hear me, but I need to say something to her.
“We’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.
” The lies taste like ash, but I refuse to take them back.
We both need hope more than anything right now. Even false hope will do.
Dario collapses onto the couch, picks up a magazine and ignores us. He whistles a tune like this is just another Monday, a regular day at work.
I glance around the space, in an attempt to get my bearings.
We’re in some kind of industrial building.
The freezer is situated on the ground floor.
Lazaro ushered me up a flight of stairs to an open walkway, then into this office where he called Maximo.
The space holds a couch, a large wooden desk, and two walls of bookcases.
A thick layer of dust coats every inch. The thin, stained carpeting smells musty.
One wall has a door. Does it lead to an adjoining office?
The minutes tick by on the clock behind the desk. Fifteen minutes… twenty. Julianna remains unconscious and worry eats away at my stomach. But I manage to compartmentalize enough to focus on only the here and now. A half hour has passed before her eyelashes flutter.
“Julianna?”
She groans and falls asleep. Guilt and anger vie for dominance as I hold her close. Poor girl. She doesn’t deserve any of this. She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Niccolò walks in, closing the door behind him. For an instant I’m transported back in time. Two huge men in masks torment me while I’m locked in a cage. Stale cigarettes, urine, and fear scent the air. All I can think about is being rescued. Someone has to come save me. Anyone, please.
But no one comes.
Jolted back to the present, I tremble and squeeze my eyes shut. Even though I’ve been taken captive again, I’m not that scared little girl any more. That Elena died in that cage when no one came for her. But the experience taught me an invaluable lesson.
You have to save yourself.
Dario sets the magazine aside and glances down at Julianna as he speaks to his brother. “Why’d you have to fuck up her face? You know I like them pretty.”
“I like them bleeding. She’s perfect. Besides, that one’s not for you.” Niccolò points to me. “That one’s yours. Except for that little mark on her cheek, she’s untouched. Have fun, brother.”
I gag on the bile that rises up my throat. Holding Julianna closer, like a lifeline, I wrack my brain for a way out of this situation. I’m not a goddamn pawn. I refuse to let this happen to us.
Maximo’s walking into a trap. He doesn’t even know that I’m here, instead of where he’s heading right now. If he survives Lazaro, he’ll never make it to us in time. His sister’s already suffered so much.
“Papa’s going to be gone for a while. Let's get this party started.” Niccolò moves forward.
“Stay away from us!”
Both of them act like I didn’t speak.
Dario downs his drink. “I don’t really want to watch you fuck a corpse.”
“She’s unconscious, not dead,” Niccolò says, his gaze locked on Julianna’s bruised face.
“Same difference to me. Take her in the other room.” Dario’s eyes find mine and I shudder with disgust. “I need every available surface to play with my toy. I can’t wait to hear her scream.”
I’m going to be sick.
“Whatever you want.” Niccolò reaches for Julianna. I bite his hand, my mouth floods with a coppery tang. “Fuck! You bitch.” He backhands me so hard, I see stars.
“Hey!” Dario yells. “Careful with her pretty face.”
By the time my head stops spinning, Julianna’s gone and Dario has me by the upper arms. My back’s pressed to his chest. I struggle against him as I watch Niccolò carry Julianna into the adjoining room—a bedroom. He shuts the door.
No. I can’t let that happen to her. I can’t. She’s too young, too innocent.
Dario spins me around, his hold on my arm firm enough to leave a bruise. “I’m so glad you’re not a virgin—I don’t have patience for that shit. Can’t stand all the crying. Nah.” His lecherous gaze sweeps my body, making me feel dirty. “You’ve been thoroughly plowed. You know how to take cock.”
He shoves me down, face-first on the couch.
I catch myself on my forearms and spin around to face him.
He’s huge, so much larger and stronger than I am.
If I’m going to take him down, I can’t fight him the same way a man would—face to face with punches.
Or take too many hits. If he knocks me out, I’m screwed.
Go for the soft spots.
The vulnerable places. Crotch, throat, ears and eyes.
Dario leers down at me, slipping off his shoulder holster and gun. “Can’t risk you getting any violent ideas while we play.” He opens a desk drawer and drops his weapon inside. Followed by his cell phone and an extra magazine of bullets. Then he locks it. He pockets the key.
With the gun out of reach, I frantically scan the office for a weapon, anything I can use against him. Many objects perch on the book shelves, but I need something heavy. I have one chance at this, I can’t mess it up.
Dario comes around the desk, his gaze pinned on me. “Want to hear a secret? I’ve always wanted to fuck the boss’s wife,” he says.
But it’s Julianna’s sudden scream from the other room that spurs me into action.