Chapter Nineteen
Evangeline
I jolt awake; everything around me is hazy and unfocused, my head is throbbing, and my stomach swims with nausea.
It’s then that I remember the syringe and the sedative, knowing that’s what’s making me sick.
My arms and legs feel like dead weights, and there are nylon ropes cutting into my wrists, making them raw.
The lumpy mattress beneath me reeks of body odor and other smells I can’t identify.
Shuddering and not wanting to vomit, I realize it’s better I don’t know the origins of the smells right now.
The room I’m sitting in is also heavy with the smell of mold, dampness, and cigarette smoke. Not helping with the nausea situation.
Looking around, I can see that the mattress I’m on is pushed into the corner of a large, empty room with a concrete floor, cinderblock walls, and no windows.
A basement. I must be in someone’s basement, likely beneath an older home based upon the smells and depressing state of the room.
It’s barren except for a sink, a toilet, and a table with assorted tools lying on top.
There’s an old wooden door across the room, likely leading to the upper part of the house.
And there are no other exits that I can see.
Horror and hysteria surge as I immediately realize what this room is likely used for: why those tools are on that table, why there are dark rust stains on the floor, and a drain in the center.
This has to be a torture room used by the Scarletta family.
Silas, Scarletta, and the ape; the three men who drugged and kidnapped me are hunkered in the corner. They’re trying to keep their voices low, so I can barely make out what they’re saying. But it’s obvious I’m the topic of conversation.
“She’s worth more alive,” snaps my Uncle Silas, his tone cold, nothing like the man who used to tease my mom at Christmas dinners and held me as I cried at my parents’ funeral. “You know Dante will pay any price to get her back.”
Scarletta’s laugh is scathing and mocking. “Whether she lives or dies, the girl is my leverage, a bargaining chip. Dante Vescari will do whatever we ask of him, or I will cut her throat. She can have the same scar as her lover, only, unlike his, hers will be fatal.”
His voice is getting higher and higher as he gets more excited.
“It’s gonna be simple. He’ll hand over that pharmacy and the rest of his properties on the North side, or she will die,” he says as if it’s a sound plan.
“Vescari needs to understand that I’m the bigger man now, the most powerful in Chicago, not him. ”
“Look, you didn’t say you would kill her, only use her so we can continue running product through the store,” Silas objects.
Wow, finally he gives a shit.
I’m shocked, but I also know the reality. I’m no longer family to Silas, just a pawn on their board.
“Fucking Vescari was trying to go legitimate on us, trying to kill the drug and skin trade on both his side and our side of town. The asshole was taking the moral fucking high road,” he laughs.
“Which is really funny considering his nickname. But the scum needs to know that’s our bread and butter.
I can’t let him get away with it!” There’s a desperate tone in Scarletta’s voice. “I won’t. She’ll die first, then him.”
I swallow, heart hammering, as Silas coughs violently with a deep, wet rattle.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, old man?” Antony, the ape, shouts impatiently, backing away from him, covering his nose and mouth as if he’ll catch something. “Cut that shit out. We don’t want what you got.”
“Damn it,” Silas wheezes, hobbling over and spitting what looks like blood into the sink. His voice is frail.
I close my eyes, remembering all the mornings I brought him his coffee, how his hands trembled around the mug. But I push it away. There’s no time for regrets.
I need Dante. Where is he? Praying he knows I’m missing, I hope he can get here before something happens and that he doesn’t walk into a trap.
Antony, Scarletta’s lackey, is now grinning at me with a sinister twist to his mouth, realizing I’m awake. He saunters over, crouches, and reaches to tighten my bonds, making me wince. His hand intentionally skims my breast, and I cringe, attempting to get as far away from him as possible.
“Hey, if you play nice with me, maybe you can walk away,” he taunts, leaning in, giving a long lick to my neck.
I gag because his breath reeks, and the man put his tongue on me.
“But I admit, I kinda like it when they fight. Makes it more of a challenge when I finally fuck ’em.
” Patting my head, he laughs darkly and walks away.
Closing my eyes, all I can do is pray Dante gets here in time.
Their argument grows louder, and the three men aren’t even attempting to be quiet anymore, so I catch more bits of their conversation.
“…Vescari’s men are closing in...”
“You promised no heat on us…”
“She’s just a girl, Silas, disposable …”
Over their bickering, I can hear faint noises, what sounds like footsteps followed by an eerie silence. The men suddenly go still, hearing them as well.
Then they become heavier. They are footsteps. A lot of them.
All of us can just make out dark shadows moving around from the space at the bottom of the door.
Then, the old metal handle rattles. It’s locked.
There’s a long, heavy pause, which seems to last forever, and more silence. The three men in the room with me look at each other, panicking, knowing that door is the only way out.
With a loud boom that stings my eardrums, the world suddenly blows apart, and the wooden door crashes to the floor in pieces. Blown off its hinges.
A team of men in black tactical gear and automatic weapons storms the basement room with a cloud of dust surrounding them in dramatic fashion. They are led by Luca, Dante’s friend and underboss, and Dante himself.
My breath catches in a sob of relief. He’s pure wrath dressed in all black, his dark eyes burning and his weapon leveled at the two Scarletta men along with Silas.
He looks like a romantic fiction dark angel here to save me, just as I knew he would.
“You fucking took what’s mine, Scarletta,” he growls in his low, rough voice, more menacing than if he’d screamed, “and now, you will die for it.”
The room goes still as reality settles in for the three men. Scarletta is shaking as if he wants to cry, and definitely not like the mafia boss he wants to portray. He thought he could rule the Chicago underworld like Dante? What a joke. The man looks like a scared child.
Everyone is distracted as Uncle Silas convulses in the corner, breaking the silence, coughing violently. His hand flies to hold his gut as if in pain, and blood spews from his lips. He buckles over and goes to his knees, staring at me with comprehension flickering in his failing eyes.
Raising one shaking finger, he points accusingly at me, croaking out, “You... you did this … in the coffee… poison.”
His words make Scarletta’s jaw drop open in shock, and I can hear as Luca swears in disbelief. “Shit…”
Dante’s gaze locks on me. Realization has dawned on all of them. By now, everyone in the room knows what I’ve done, what I’m capable of doing.
Uncle Silas crumples to the floor, convulsing violently, and taking a shuddering last breath. He’s dead.
Taking advantage of the distraction, Scarletta lunges with a knife he’s taken off the table in the room, but Dante’s faster.
A series of shots rings out. Both Antony and Scarletta collapse on the cold concrete floor, their chests blooming with blood, eyes staring at me, lifeless and unmoving.
Luca and Dante lower their weapons at the same time. Dante turns to look at me, something dark and hungry in his gaze.
Hands and feet still bound, I only lift my chin, and my voice trembles as I shrug, “I decided to save myself.”