Chapter Nine
Chloe
The cold steel of the gun against my head left me no choice. I stepped further into the room as the man commanded, my heart pounding so hard it drowned out every other sound for an insane second.
The other three stood, taking their time to take a good look at me. My body started shaking with indescribable fear but I knew I had to get out.
Think, Chloe, think.
The man in the center stepped forward, his dark hair pulled back into a manbun; he looked too young to have any kind of authority, contradicting how the others moved with him, subtly following his lead, making it clear he was indeed the one in charge.
“Interesting…” He murmured. His glassy eyes swept over me with a victorious kind of madness, as though he found exactly what he’d been searching for, even though I’d never seen him before.
“What… What do you want?” My voice slipped out in a pathetic squeak.
The pressure of the gun against my temple deepened.
“You’ll see soon enough,” the guy with the manbun said before turning to his friends. “Prepare her. I’ll get the van.”
Then he walked out through the back door in the room, the one only staff were supposed to use.
Prepare me? For what? This has to be a mistake.
They must have been confusing me with someone else.
Before I could protest, the man with the gun yanked me by my elbow, spinning me to face him.
The barrel slid down my cheek, grazing my jaw with deliberate slowness.
He was so close I could smell the stale cigarette smoke on his clothes and something sour on his breath.
“Let’s move her already,” another man said, unfolding what looked like a burlap sack.
No.
“Why the rush?” the one holding me sneered. “We can have a round with her first.”
My stomach twisted violently.
“He wants her alive,” the other man warned.
He?
The one holding me grinned, revealing a row of gold teeth that made me instantly sick.
“I’ll deliver her alive. Just a little sore.” His grip tightened, his dark eyes carved with madness, hungry to fulfill every sick fantasy flickering through his mind. “Come on, we can share. But I’ll go first.”
“Let go of me!” I screamed, jerking my arm with everything I had but the sick smile stretching across his pallid thin lips only deepened.
“You can scream all you want, whore. No one will hear you.”
Terror turned to desperation. It was three against one and my first opponent alone was twice my size. So, I did the only thing I could. I screamed. I screamed until my throat burned, until my lungs felt they would collapse, praying that someone—anyone—would hear me before it was too late.
My chances were slim and if they decided to lay a hand on me, it would all be over.
And that was exactly what happened next.
He grabbed me by the throat and hurled my body against the ground, dragging me across the carpet until I slammed into the wall.
Never before had I felt so much pain in all my bones at once.
My vision blurred, and I struggled to stand and he didn’t give me time.
Fingers tangled in my hair next, yanking me hard to my feet.
I whimpered, my scalp burning as I stumbled, barely able to hold myself up.
I tried pushing him away, but he slapped me hard across the face. It hurt so bad, it felt like he might have broken my jaw. It was the second time I’d been hit today, maybe that was why it hurt even more.
He spun me, his massive hand slamming my head against the wall. His body caged mine, suffocating any hope of escape.
“Don’t worry, nena,” he whispered in my ear, his words feeling like acid. “If you’re good to me, I promise it won’t hurt for too long.”
His free hand slid down my hips, pulling up my skirt, exposing me to the other men in the room.
I’d been afraid the whole time, but this fear escalated to a terrifying new level.
Then came the unmistakable sound of a belt unbuckling. Please, God, let this be a nightmare. His hardness pressed between my ass cheeks, my body recoiling when his tongue trailed along the back of my neck.
I fought, I clawed, I kicked—but I was exhausted. My body ached from being thrown against the wall.
I kept screaming, louder and louder, until I couldn’t feel my throat anymore.
“Stop screaming,” he growled between kisses and painful bites on my skin. “No one’s coming to save you, corazón. We paid well to be left alone for hours.”
The other two men stared at us, enjoying the show while their hands rubbed their crotches, preparing for their turn.
I closed my eyes, trying to shut everything out.
I didn’t want to feel it; I didn’t want to be in this life anymore.
I thought about Malia and her sleepy voice that morning, wondering if it had been the last time she’d hear mine.
The world around me faded as I braced for the worst, waiting for the inevitable.
Malia’s sweet face and little giggles came to mind, and I clung to that light as if it was the sun.
He pulled my panties aside and then came the pressure. His fingernails scratched me from the inside like razors.
“No one’s coming to save you,” he hissed, repeating it over and over—
—Until a sudden crash disrupted the moment.
The door flew open, slamming back against the wall, ricocheting and sending the most violent jolt through the room.
“Look again, motherfucker.”
The deep voice traveled through the room, and for a moment, everything fell still. My attacker’s grip on me loosened, the other men stiffening, frozen in shock. I gasped in relief. No longer trapped between the man and the wall, I slowly turned toward the door.
The first thing I noticed was a gun pointed directly at us. My gaze shifted to the man holding it, and I’d recognize those dangerous blue eyes anywhere.
Zane. Showing like the devil had been hearing my prayers and decided to answer in person.
The other men quickly drew their guns, pointing them at him, but no one dared to make the first move. I was confused and in shock, but despite the chaos, somehow I knew that if Zane was here, it was over and I’d be safe.
“Zane Santino,” One of the men trailed off, his voice heavy with surprise and something else, maybe caution. “We’ve been waiting for this moment.”
They know each other?
“Chloe, behind me.” Zane commanded.
It took time to process what he’d said, but then I shoved my attacker’s body away, stumbling into Zane’s arms, clinging desperately to his jacket. But now I was on the other end, at the aim of three guns.
I was petrified, hardly able to breathe, waiting for the gunshot that felt inevitable.
But mostly, I was afraid—afraid for Zane, this stranger, who kept showing up to save me.
It didn’t make sense why I cared more about his life than my own at that moment, but I wanted him to be safe too.
I didn’t want him to get hurt because of me.
“If I were you, I’d think very carefully before doing something you’ll regret.” Zane said to them far too calmly considering the situation. “A bullet will be in your skull before you even think about pulling that trigger.”
What the hell is he doing? He had three guns pointed at him, all odds clearly against us.
“You have two seconds,” Zane pressed. Not a threat but a promise.
The tension thickened, the walls started to close in.
Bam!
I flinched, my hands flying to cover my ears instinctively. Zane’s body shielded mine so quickly that my brain could barely register it. I heard one gunshot, then four more. Screams erupted outside the room, echoing everywhere.
Zane’s body jerked slightly against me, a sign he’d been hit. But the other three men were the ones collapsing, almost simultaneously, each with a bullet to the head. Zane remained standing, his body a fortress around me.
I felt pain, but it wasn’t mine. It was his.
That bullet could’ve been meant for me, but Zane had taken it in my place.
Tears burned my eyes as my trembling hands searched his chest and arms desperately for bullet wounds until I found the hole in his shirt.
The fabric already steeped in with blood.
He was bleeding a lot, very quickly, and the horror that crawled up my throat almost suffocated me.
It had missed his heart, thankfully, but the wound was close to his shoulder.
Yet not once did his expression change.
As if it didn’t hurt, didn’t burn, nothing. And the fact he’d killed those men didn’t seem to affect him either, as if he had done it before.
His eyes flicked toward me, as if searching for a bullet wound.
But only when they reached my face something in his expression changed, as if he’d spotted something he didn’t like there.
Now, he was looking deadly dangerous, intense, territorial.
Making me wonder if it was the pain finally hitting him or was it something about me?
“Boss?!” A male voice called from behind.
“Sto bene, controlla i corpi!” Zane answered.
I had no idea what they were saying and didn’t care, I was so relieved that before I knew it, I was hugging him.
“Thank you, thank you so much.”
His body tensed before shoving me away. “Get the fuck off me,” he snarled, as if my touch was an insult.
I stumbled, stunned by the coldness.
“Come with me. Now.” He wasn’t asking and I followed him out senselessly.
I shouldn’t have felt safe around him and certainly shouldn’t have put my guard down and trust him.
But I did.
We walked back into the club’s main room, my eyes roaming around the post-apocalyptic scene around us.
There was no one there, only bottles and shattered glasses over the tables were left behind.
Shit. Bruce was either going to kill me or make me pay for every last bit of damage.
And I had a feeling I wouldn’t like the price.
Zane exhaled sharply and, without a word, shrugged off his jacket, draping it over my shoulders. It was obviously too big, but I was thankful for how it could cover my whole body in a moment when all I wanted to do was disappear.
It carried his warmth, and I let it weigh on me.
I couldn’t get my head around this man. One minute, he seemed repulsed by my touch, and the next, he was taking care of me as if part of him actually cared.
I gripped the jacket tighter around myself, taking a few steps to keep my distance. Even though he’d saved me, I still didn’t know what his help would cost me. Nothing in this world came free for people like me.
“What did they want from you?” Zane suddenly asked, his eyes fixed on some point in the distance, as if he was doing everything he could to avoid looking at my face.
I hadn’t ask for any of this, so his coldness after saving me felt misplaced.
“I—I don’t know,” I stammered. “They must’ve mistaken me for someone.”
It was the only explanation that made sense.
“This wasn’t a mistake.”
I waited for him to explain, but one of his men interrupted. “La polizia sta arrivando!” The man warned, shouting something about the police.
He was tall with bronze skin, short dreads, and a body built for war, like every other man I’d seen with Zane so far.
His all-black attire was impeccable, and he was unnervingly calm for someone who’d just witnessed a mass murder.
Even though he might have been one of the shooters.
Thinking back, there was no way Zane had taken down all three men by himself, right?
Zane nodded at the man with an unspoken command, and he immediately grabbed my elbow.
“What are you doing?” I panted, trying to pull free.
Zane stepped in front of me, finally looking at me again.
“You’re coming with me until I understand what the fuck happened here.”
Before I could argue, Bruce emerged from backstage, his face flushed with rage.
“There you are!” his voice boomed, his face red with an alarming shade. He was beyond pissed. “What the fuck happened here?” He marched toward us, jabbing a fat finger my way.
“We’ll talk about this later. And you— ” he turned his finger toward Zane, “—you ain’t taking her anywhere. I own her, and she needs to work!”
Zane barely spared him a glance. Bruce was shorter than me, and Zane didn’t even bother lowering his head to acknowledge him. After a tense silence, Bruce tried again, though his voice was weaker. “Look, playboy, don’t get yourself into more trouble. Just give me my girl and leave.”
“La tua ragazza, eh?” Zane finally spoke with a scoff, his tone sounding like sarcasm, though neither Bruce nor I understood the words. “She’s mine now.”
I’m what?
“No,” Bruce pushed back, his voice rising, “She’s in debt to me. I have a deal with her father.”
“Well, that deal is over,” Zane declared like his words were simply the law. “I’ll settle her debts and give you enough additionally to never look her way again.”
Bruce looked taken aback—and I think I did too.
It didn’t even bother me that they were gambling with my life as if I wasn’t there, because, at that moment, it felt like I was watching it all from outside my own body anyway.
“Are you serious? She’s hot but not exactly experienced.” Bruce said with a mocking tone. “She’s not worth much. Trust me.”
He chuckled and I caved.
“Good. Then I’m doing you a favor.”
Zane’s words felt like venom for the first time.
“Mike, bring the bag,” Zane ordered.
Mike let go of my arm and left, returning minutes later with a large, sporty bag, dropping it between Bruce and Zane and unzipping it. Bruce’s eyes lit like fireworks. Money had always been his love language.
“Take the money,” Zane said flatly. “I believe that’s more than enough.”
I was stunned, having never seen this much money in my life. There were thousands—maybe even millions—of euros there. Euros.
My mind couldn’t make sense of it. Nothing about this night felt real.
It didn’t make sense why he would cover my debts.
Zane didn’t know me. I was nothing to him. There had to be more to this than wanting a personal toy. Or maybe I was wrong, and I was about to find out he was more twisted than I’d ever imagine.
A dark realization hit me.
No one was helping me. I wasn’t being saved, I was being trafficked. It’s happening again.
I couldn’t believe this man made me vulnerable just to gamble with my life. Panic flooded my body once again. Zane’s man, Mike, grabbed me by the elbow again to take me.
“No, please…” I begged, trying to pull away, but it was no use.
“Sadly for you, this is not a request,” Zane said, his voice as indifferent as if he was discussing the weather.
It didn’t feel human.