• 32
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Liz had just won her first dance award of the year. She deserved it. She practically lived in the studio, danced in the kitchen, danced brushing her teeth... she was brilliant.
Seeing her happy filled me with this warm, full kind of pride. The kind a mom probably feels.
Because she wasn't just my sister... she was my other half.
What stung wasn't her happiness.
It was Mom's face. The way she looked at Lizzy like she was the light of her life.
She hadn't looked at me like that since I was six.
Lizzy spun toward Mom. "What time are you taking me to Grand-papa's?"
Mom checked her phone and gasped. "Oh no, we're late."
I smiled at Lizzy and pulled her into a hug. "Have fun. I'll see you in a few days, okay?"
She hugged me tight. "Are you sure Dari can't come, Mom?"
"For the fiftieth time, Lizzy, no. Your grandparents and Daria have a... complicated relationship."
Complicated.
Right.
That was one word for it.
I looked down so Liz wouldn't see the hit land.
"Complicated" meant they barely tolerated me.
It meant they resented me for being adopted.
It meant they hated that I didn't look like them.
They used to whisper that Mom "should've adopted a blond girl instead."
Once I heard my grandfather say I was too tan, and Mom needed a child that "matched the family."
Sometimes I think... that's why she doesn't like me either. Not anymore at-least.
"It's fine, Lizzy. Really. You enjoy," I said softly, brushing her cheek. "I'm going to be busy today with Nessa anyway." A lie.
Lizzy perked up a little. "Okay... but call me tonight."
"I will."
She squeezed me one more time, like she was trying to make up for all the years our grandparents wouldn't let her bring me.
And then she was gone, rushing out the door with Mom. Mom didn't say bye, but that was usual.
The house fell quiet.
I stood there in the hallway for a minute, swallowing the familiar ache in my chest.
My phone buzzed while I was folding laundry on my bed, pretending to be calm and normal and not thinking about the way mom never talked to me much anymore.
Another buzz.
My stomach flipped.
He hadn't seen me in days, but he had been texting.
Short, sharp, Nico-style messages that somehow said more than whole paragraphs.
Three dots appeared instantly.
He was waiting for me.
God.
That was attractive.
Every nerve I had lit up like my body remembered exactly what he'd done to me. My thighs pressed together automatically. I missed him,
missed everything about how he touched me.
I typed again:
A long pause.
Then—
I swallowed, the back of my neck getting warm.
He answered like he already had it planned.
Ten?
I looked at the clock.
He said he was busy.
He said he had important things to handle.
But now he was ready to drop everything and come see me the second I asked?
I felt something pull in my chest.
I typed quickly:
A pause.
I frowned at the screen. Why would something feel off?
Another pause.
Baby. Again.
My knees actually weakened.
I sat down on the edge of my bed because I suddenly couldn't stand properly. My hands shook just a little as I grabbed my bag.
He wanted to see me.
He missed me.
He'd been busy, but not enough to stay away from me.
God.
Why did that feel so good?
I looked at my reflection before leaving.
Cheeks flushed. Like I was going on a date I pretended wasn't a date.
I didn't know that walking out my front door toward that coffee shop was the last moment I'd feel safe.
I didn't know my life was about to change in a way I could never prepare for.
The late afternoon air was cool, the sky soft and dim, and my heart was doing that stupid fluttery thing again because Nico was waiting for me.
I kept replaying his texts in my head.
I smiled to myself, cheeks warm as I started down the street. It wasn't far. Ten minutes. Maybe twelve if I walked slow.
I looked both ways, then crossed.
Three steps onto the sidewalk.
Four...
A hand slammed over my mouth so hard the scream died in my throat.
My entire body jerked.
Arms, massive arms—wrapped around me, locking me against a chest that felt like a wall.
"No—No—please—!" My voice cracked behind his palm.
"Shhh..." a low voice hissed behind me. "Don't start screaming now, princess. We're just takin' a little detour."
I kicked. I fought. I clawed at his hand, but the man didn't move an inch.
He was too big, too strong.
Oh my god. This was a nightmare. What will he do to me?
My feet lifted off the ground as he dragged me backward, toward an alley. My vision blurred with panic. My chest tightened so hard I couldn't breathe.
Another man stepped into view—a tall guy with piercing blue eyes and a scar across his mouth. He smirked like this was funny.
"Damn," he said, "she's even prettier up close."
"Please! Let me go!" I tried to scream, but it came out muffled. Broken.
The man holding me laughed in my ear. A deep, horrible laugh. My stomach ached.
"You hear that, Marc? She's polite."
"Mm," the blue-eyed one said, stepping closer. "Shame she's the boss's kid. Would've loved a little time with that mouth."
My stomach twisted so violently I nearly threw up. My whole body shook. Tears blurred my sight.
"Stop—please—please—" My words dissolved against his palm.
A black SUV rolled up beside the alley, the door already open.
I thrashed harder.
They didn't care.
They dragged me toward it like I weighed nothing. Fucking shit. Was there no one around to help me?
"Aw, don't cry," the blue-eyed man mocked, tilting his head. "We're takin' you to a family reunion."
More tears spilled. My breath came in sharp, choking gasps.
"No—no, please—I didn't—I don't know you—!"
The man behind me forced me into the car. My back hit the seat hard. My wrists were yanked forward, rope burning my skin as they tied me fast. My ankles too. I screamed, but it was useless.
A strip of thick tape wrapped over my mouth, ripping at my skin.
Darkness swallowed everything as they tied a blindfold over my eyes.
My heartbeat thundered in my ears, too fast, too loud. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. Every sound felt sharp and distant.
The car door slammed.
"Damn," one of them said as the engine roared to life. "Look at her shaking."
A hand touched my thigh.
I jerked violently, sobbing harder.
"Relax," he said. "We ain't allowed to touch you. Boss's orders."
"Yeah," the other man added. "But if she wasn't his kid? Shit."
A low whistle.
"That dress? That ass? I'd ruin her."
They laughed. I cried.
My body shook so hard the rope dug deeper into my skin.
Every breath burned. Every sound was too loud. Every bump in the road made my stomach twist. Tears soaked the blindfold until it stuck to my face.
I tried to scream for help. I tried to pray. I tried to breathe.
But all I could think was one thing.
Nico... where are you?