CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Seraphina
I'm sitting on the cold, hard floor of the dimly lit room, cradling my little girl's head in my lap. The sound of her crying has subsided, and she was finally able to fall asleep. I’ve been cursing myself for my stupidity for the last few hours, instead of telling Ink or Ky right away that I recognized Ky’s ex-girlfriend, I thought I had time.
And now here I was, allowing myself to be taken so they wouldn’t hurt my little girl, otherwise I would’ve fought like a hellcat. My left wrist shackled to the wall by a chain. I look around the room, trying to figure out an escape. But it seems I’m stuck here for the time being, or until the club comes to our rescue.
If they come . A dark inner voice silenced any hope of rescue.
Because, let’s face it, who am I to them in the grand scheme of things?
But maybe they will do it for Willow? Leaning against the cold concrete wall, I take a few deep breaths, feeling the rough texture against my back, as I try to calm my racing heartbeat and fight off the rising panic. My thoughts go to what Angelo has planned, and why he sent Mariah, or whatever her name is, to the DCMC, and is Finn really Ky’s child? So many questions swirling in my head, but with no definitive answers.
The bolt in the door drawers back loudly, and Willow flinches at the noise. I put a comforting hand on her back, and she continues sleeping. Neither Angelo nor Mariah appear, only a young girl with a tray of food in her hands. She looks at me warily and places the tray on the floor in front of me.
“Where’s Angelo?” I demand of the girl, and she rushes back a few steps. What’s he done to this poor girl to make her so afraid? “What about Mariah?” The girl’s face scrunches in confusion, as if she doesn’t know who I’m talking about. Without speaking, the girl turns and rushes out of the room, locking us inside again.
Shaking my head, I have the sudden urge to scream, but I keep a lid on it, not wanting to scare my little girl. Sighing, I decide to make the best of a hopeless situation, until at such time we can make an escape, or we’re rescued. With my free hand, I lift the lid on the plate the girl had left. Underneath are two sandwiches wrapped in cling film, and two bottles of water. I check the seal is intact, and when I discover it is, I rip off the cap and take a long pull of the cold, crisp liquid. Going a long way to soothe my parched throat.
“Mommy, I’m hungry,” my sleepy baby says, rubbing her eyes, and I can’t help the small smile that lifts my lips.
“Hello, my sweet girl,” I whisper, kissing her cheek tenderly. Willow sits up, but remains in my lap, as I carefully uncover the sandwiches, and give them a cautious sniff. Angelo wouldn’t go to all the trouble of kidnapping us only to poison us, would he?
The sandwiches are identical, and filled with delicious looking deli meats, tomato, cheese and lettuce. I uncap the other bottle and hand it to her to take a small sip. Before handing her the sandwich, I take a bite and chew, forcing myself not to moan aloud. It was so good. I’d hardly eaten since lunchtime yesterday.
I wait.
When nothing happens, I hand her one half of her own sandwich. My girl is delicate and eats like a baby bird. I smile again as I watch her eat, running my hands through her beautiful dark hair. When she finishes her half, I give her another sip of water. Wrapping up the remaining sandwich, I return it to the plate.
The bolt to the door opens again, and this time, the man of the hour walks in, with the pretty blonde from this morning at the clubhouse beside him.
“Nice of you to drop by.” I begin dryly. “The digs aren’t really my style, but they’ll do in a pinch.” Bravado was always my go to when I was anxious or afraid.
Angelo curls his lip, his arms crossed over his chest, the sleeves of his perfectly pressed dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, his dark hair disheveled.
Willow presses her tiny body against me, trying to make herself seem even smaller, so that the big bad wolf won’t notice her. I wrap a protective arm around her. I’ll die first before I let anything happen to her.
“I can’t remember the last time you were such a mouthy bitch,” he snarls.
The room starts spinning, a nauseating swirl of color and shadow, and my vision doubles, making everything seem strangely distorted.
“Not feeling too good, I see,” he drawls.
“What did you do?” I demand weakly as I teeter on the edge of consciousness. Attempting to look down even though the entire room is spinning, I see my baby already sleeping.
He shrugs. “I banked on the fact you were hungry. Did you enjoy your sandwich?” he says almost smugly, as I try to stay awake. But I feel my eyes close, and everything goes black.
***
I wake on a groan, my head feeling as though it’s packed with rocks. Eyes fluttering open, I find myself on a bed in a beautifully appointed room, and I instinctively know where I am.
Back at Angelo’s house.
I fumble for Willow's hand, but only find empty sheets. A wave of apprehension washes over me, forcing me to freeze. I turn my head slowly, taking in the room with a newfound sense of unease. But there’s no sign of her, and I can feel the rising panic. I quickly sit up as the room spins, and I clutch the side of my head.
Placing my feet on the plush rug covering a slate floor, I go to stand, but I’m still wobbly on my feet and drop to the bed.
“Angelo!” I yell into the empty room. I know he’s watching; I can almost feel his eyes on me. “Where is she?” With tears streaming down my face, I demand, my voice choked with sobs. Willow was my strength, but without her, I felt like a thread coming undone.
And it’s all that bastard’s fault.
From the day she was born, I had never been apart from Willow. I was always watching over her, making sure he wasn’t alone with her. But now, I can’t stand this not knowing. Feeling chilled, I look down at myself, horrified that I was completely naked. There was a carved mahogany dresser in the corner of the room. I practically fly across the room and pull open the top drawer, noticing a silk floor-length nightgown in blush pink. I roll my eyes, but it’s better than nothing, so I quickly slip into it. I wish I still had my phone on me, but it probably would’ve been worthless, anyway. Earlier in the day, it was already low on charge.
Without delay, I run straight for the bedroom door; instinctively, I knew it would be locked, but it didn’t hurt to try. Right? Finding it locked, it wasn’t surprising, but it was frustrating and as such, tears blur my vision, but I refused to let them fall.
I have the urge to scream and curse him from here to kingdom come, but I wasn’t going to let him get the better of me. Or give him the satisfaction of seeing me unravel.
I will best him. Somehow. And Willow and I will get out of here.
I had lived with the man for over three years. I had to believe that he wouldn’t hurt my little girl. But it’s been almost an entire year since I’d seen him last, and I didn’t know how he would react now. Just as I sink to the floor in defeat, the door to the bedroom opens, and there’s Angelo, dressed in perfectly pressed dress pants and button-down shirt. His dark hair slicked back from his face. He’d be considered classically handsome, and to most women I’m sure he is, but they don’t know the monster lurking within like I do.
I spring to my feet with as much grace as I can muster in the circumstances. Clenching my hands into fists by my sides, I call on the bravado I had displayed earlier.
“Where is Willow?” I demand. My eyes blazing fire, and if I could, I’d burn him where he stands with just a look.
A slow smile spreads across his face as he walks farther into the room, his arms linked behind his back, his shrewd eyes running over me.
“What, your digs aren’t to your liking?” He throws back my own words, back in that concrete room.
I had reached the end of my tether, screaming the words. “Where is she?” Before I knew what to expect, he lunges, slapping me so hard across the face that I fall to the floor, clutching my throbbing cheek.
“Fuck you,” I grit through my teeth, my eyes brimming with unshed tears as the pain ricochets through my cheek
“Shut the fuck up, and then maybe I’ll bring her to you.”
“What do you mean, maybe?” I demand.
Angelo narrows his eyes at me. “Just what I said.”
I get up off the floor and sit on the edge of the plush king-size bed.
“What have you done with her?” The stress of the day has finally gotten to me, and I can’t help the tears that course down my face. “Why won’t you just let me go?” I ask, my breath catching, as I try to speak through my crying jag.
“Because that wasn’t the deal that was struck between Father and I,” he yells, and I cower against his voice for the first time. “You were promised to me on his deathbed. And I haven’t claimed you yet. But soon, you will be mine.” His eyes run lasciviously over me, and a shiver of revulsion runs down my spine.
He gets to his shiny loafered feet and walks to the door. “And when you’ve finally come to terms with the inescapable fact that you’re mine, only then will I let you see that brat. Until then, she’s in excellent hands.”
“You can’t just keep me away from my child and locked up,” I scream at him as he opens the door. He turns and looks back at me with retribution in his empty eyes.
“You even think about trying to escape, the kid will be gone,” he threatens before moving through the door and closing it behind him.
When I hear the lock engage, I slump back against the bed, curling into the fetal position, and cry myself to sleep.