Chapter Thirty-Nine #2
“You caused this to yourself, Chloe. You enchanted the wrong bad man and became my most wanted possession.”
He started pacing slowly around me and I waited for him to explain with the heart in my throat.
“One day, rumors started spreading on the streets about how the Zane Santino had stepped away from his throne and beaten the shit out of some guy, to protect one of my girls... I didn’t give it much thought, not until his enemies knocked at my door with a deal too good to refuse.”
I swallowed hard. The Red Scorpions.
Zane had saved me that night, but I hadn’t known who he was and I never thought about the kind of attention it could draw.
“All I had to do was give them a name.”
A cruel flicker danced in Bruce’s eyes as he continued.
“Imagine my surprise when Zane himself walks straight into my bar days later to see you… It was you. And, well… it was too perfect.” He laughed.
“You…” The words escaped my mouth as I pieced it together. “The night those men tried to take me, you set that up!”
Flashes from that night crashed into my mind again.
Oh my God, this was the connection. Zane was right. It’s me.
“I didn’t know what they wanted from you exactly, but they paid well for it. You were supposed to go with them that night, and that would’ve been the end of it. The end of us.”
I cringed at the way his words landed.
“But then Zane Santino beat them to it and, without knowing, put you exactly where you needed to be.”
“To do what?”
“To pass me the details about Zane’s shipments, the containers, when they arrive, what’s inside. Where he is, where he’ll be, and everything in between.”
“You want me to spy for you?” I scoffed in disbelief.
Wait. Is he serious?
I almost laughed. “You actually believe that? You actually think I can help you with that?”
“I think you’ll do whatever it takes to make sure your sister doesn’t end up like the others.”
Bruce’s stupid smile returned. His hand reached up, pulling down the black curtain beside us to reveal a large glass window. This room was where he watched his own show.
On the other side of the glass was a room where people sat in rows, almost like a theater. On stage, five girls were standing in a line, completely naked and bruised, with random numbers stamped onto their legs.
My hands flew to my mouth with the shock as a sob caught in my throat.
The last girl in line was the number 11. Malia.
She looked taller than I remembered, older, but it was her.
Her dark hair hung longer now too, though it was tangled and damp around her face.
Her face was swollen, one eye already darkening.
Her gaze was feral, I didn’t know how long she’d been here, but I could tell she had been fighting them and from the fire I could still see burning in her eyes, she wasn’t done.
It was her. My baby sister.
Tears started to fall down my cheeks as she stepped forward under the spotlight, her wrists bound, her head held high in defiance even when her lip trembled.
Then the room erupted. Men in macabre masks began bidding, plates rising in the air for her.
“Two hundred thousand,” someone called.
My stomach twisted. No, this can’t be real. I did everything to avoid this.
“I can stop it,” Bruce whispered from behind me. “Just agree to it.”
Five hundred thousand.
“You just have to give me your word.”
Eight hundred thousand.
His voice was distant now. Everything spun around me.
“What’s it going to be, sweetheart?”
One million.
“I’ll do it!” I screamed, desperation ripping through my chest like nothing I’d felt before. “I will do anything! Just make it stop!”
Make it stop! Make it stop!
Bruce smirked, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes before he gazed away at his phone. The moment he gave the order, I spotted Finny climbing onto the stage and I watched in helpless horror as he dragged Malia out of there, not caring if he hurt her.
I knew the procedure before the line-up. I remembered what they’d done to me and could only imagine the horrors Malia must’ve faced in my place.
My head throbbed with nerves.
All I had done to pay off our debts, to set us free, to keep her safe… none of it ever really meant anything. Because my freedom would always cost hers. I knew it now.
My heart shattered into pieces I’d never be able to put back together.
I was the one who had done this to her. My baby was here, and it was all my fault!
I didn’t see him approach, but suddenly Bruce’s hand was on my chin, forcing my face up to meet his.
“The moment I saw you, I knew you were meant for something big,” he said, and it sounded like a confession. “You have the kind of face that ruins evil men.”
For years, I’d wondered if the times he spared me meant he’d grown attached in some twisted way. But no. He’d only been waiting, biding his time until I could serve him right.
Sick bastard.
I jerked my face away, ready to hit him, but the door creaked open before I could move.
Malia was shoved forward, stumbling on her bare feet before crashing to the ground.
She wore a dirty, oversized nightshirt that reached her knees, giving me a small sense of relief that at least they’d let her cover up. Her eyes darted wildly, wide and frantic like a trapped little mouse, until they landed on me.
It had been almost eight years since I’d looked into those round eyes in person, the ones that always looked a tone greener than mine.
“Chloe?” Her voice was hoarse, small, and broken.
I rushed to her, kneeling just in time to catch her as she collapsed into my arms.
“Oh my God, Malia—” My throat closed around her name.
I held her tight, my hands threading through her tangled hair.
She clung to me the same way she had as a child.
I could try to describe the feeling of having her in my arms again, but nothing would come close.
It was like standing on the edge of a dream and a nightmare all at once, because as much as I’d wished for this moment, I hated everything about it now.
I hugged her so tightly, hoping—praying—that if I did it right, I could stop time and keep the world from taking her again.
There was so much I wanted to say. So much I needed to hear from her.
But there wasn’t time.
It wasn’t that type of reunion.
“It’s okay,” I whispered, rocking her gently. “I’m here now. It will be all over soon. I promise.”
“I’ll give you five minutes, then we’re leaving,” Bruce said from the doorway. “I’m being nice, so don’t try anything stupid.”
He left the room, and I shot Finny a murderous look before he followed Bruce out. He wasn’t exactly a friend, but he knew me, and I didn’t expect this cruelty from him. The door clicked shut and I pulled Malia’s face into my hands, gently lifting her chin so I could see her.
“What is happening?” she sobbed, her voice cracking. “Why are they doing this to me? I didn’t do anything wrong. I try so hard… I-I try to do things right, you know I do.”
“I know,” I whispered, brushing tears from her cheeks.
She broke again in my arms, and I held her tighter, swallowing down the lump in my throat.
“This is all my fault,” I confessed.
She shook her head quickly. “No—no, Chloe, it’s not—”
“It is,” I cut in gently, cupping her face. “Bruce needs something from me. And he’s using you to get me to do it.”
Her eyes locked onto mine, wide and terrified.
“But I’m going to fix this, Malia. I swear to you.”
She didn’t speak. Just stared numbly, realizing this was not over yet.
“I’ll get you out.”
I said again, firmer this time, waiting to hear her say that she knew I would. But she didn’t.
“I’ll make all of this go away. Whatever it takes. You just have to hang on. Okay?”
She nodded, but it wasn’t a sure nod. It was the nod of someone who had no other choice and I hated that a promise was the only thing I could offer her right now. Promises don’t have the power to fix things the way they did when we were kids. I knew that too.
We knew our moment had ended when the door opened and Bruce cleared his throat.
Malia flinched at the sound, and I noticed I didn’t. Not anymore.
“I’m scared,” she whimpered just for me to hear.
“I know,” I brushed her hair gently, big tears filled her eyes, and I kissed her forehead. “I’ll be back for you,” I whispered back.
“Please… don’t leave me here,” she begged, and God, if I could, I would rip my soul out with my bare hands just to trade bodies with her.
“Oh, dear me, I almost need a tissue for my tears,” Bruce said dryly, ending the moment. “Time’s up.”