Chapter 47 Chiara
Chiara
Gentle fingers steal the gun from my hand before I’m crushed against a hard chest. My ears still ring from the gunshot. There’s a risk I’ve sustained permanent hearing damage, but I don’t care.
The sight of Lorenzo’s head bursting like a ripe tomato makes me want to vomit all over my cute shoes, but I swallow the bile creeping up my throat.
A surfeit of adrenaline surges through my system, making me tremble. None of us expected him to be here. Not after I stole his invitation. But since he’s part of this fucked-up venture, I guess it was inevitable.
He and Remington are partners, and if he was behind Fina’s abduction, then of course he’d be here.
“Breathe, kitten,” Kane says in my ear. “You’re safe.”
The sound of screaming fades as the room empties. Shooting Lorenzo has caused a stampede as people rush to escape the carnage.
I wonder how many of them will run outside naked, and giggle at the thought.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble against Kane’s chest, feeling bad that I’ve murdered Luka’s father.
“Lorenzo doesn’t deserve your pity.”
Luka reaches for my hand and squeezes. “Thank you.” When I lift my head, Luka has tears in his eyes. He rips his mask off and smiles. “You slew the monster, cupcake. That makes you my hero.”
I giggle all the more, even though it’s highly inappropriate to laugh less than two feet from a still-warm corpse.
“I’m the dragon-slayer of your fantasies? Does that make me Xena: Warrior Princess?”
“You can wear a leather bustier and thigh-high boots anytime, cupcake.” He smirks.
I’m still traumatized from shooting Lorenzo, but some of the shock has faded. How I managed to hit him is a miracle. When Kane had me doing some target practice a few weeks ago, my aim was shockingly bad.
“I need to move Remington,” Kane says, reluctantly releasing me. But when we turn around, Kane curses.
“Fuck, he’s gone.”
“But he was out cold?” Luka frowns. “No way he recovered that fast.” Since I didn’t see what happened, I can’t comment.
“One of his men must have carried him away. The big one’s missing too.
” He shakes his head. “Never mind, let’s worry about that later.
Come, we need to get downstairs and find Angelo.
We can leave through the access tunnels.
It’ll be safer than trying to get out via the main entrance, as someone is bound to have called the cops by now. ”
“Won’t there be a ton of armed men downstairs?” Luka chews his lip and shuffles nervously.
“Yes, but it’s our only option.”
Kane tugs me toward the corridor where the staircase down to the lower level is situated. The lights remain low, and seductive music continues to pump from hidden speakers. I briefly wonder if the entertainers are still in their glass viewing rooms.
When we reach the access door, Kane stops and stares at the access panel. It requires a fingerprint to open, but the guards are missing.
He swears, but I grab his arm and point to the room on our left.
“Kyril shoved the guards in there,” I explain. Their fingerprints open the door, so all he has to do is drag one of them out and press his finger to the access panel. Assuming they haven’t fled by now.
Luckily for us, they’re both still out cold. Kane pulls the smaller one out by his ankle and lifts his arm so his finger reaches the small panel. It works like a charm and the light turns green.
He drops the unconscious guard and removes the gun the man had tucked into a holster, shoving it into his waistband for safekeeping.
“Stay behind me,” he orders.
I roll my eyes. How fucking stupid does he think I am?
When we reach the bottom of the stairs, the large room is empty, the silence deafening. There’s nobody left other than a few dead bodies scattered around. I experience a paralyzing surge of panic as I scan each one, but none of them are Angelo.
Kane smiles reassuringly. “He’s fine,” he says. “I just got a message to say they’re on the floor below.” He holds up his phone as proof.
“What about all the poor people locked in cages?”
“What?” Luka looks horrified.
“I don’t know, but we can worry about that once we’ve gotten out of this place with Fina.”
“Have they found her?”
“Not yet.” It’s a huge place, she could still be here, I tell myself. “Come, the staircase we need is this way.”
There are more bodies down here. Scarlet blood stains the concrete floor and walls. It feels as if I’ve walked into a video game set in an underground government facility. Any moment now, ravenous undead zombies will lurch into view.
The place gives me the creeps. Stark strip lighting and metal doors line the corridor. Each door has a small grill near the top to let light in. I don’t want to imagine what lies behind those doors.
People, probably.
“What’s going to happen to the trafficking victims?” Even if Fina isn’t here, there are many other women. We saw them upstairs. Some could have been trafficked from overseas - what will happen to them?
“The authorities can sort it out.” He doesn’t elaborate, and I don’t ask.
A sharp scream ahead makes me jump in fear. Kane has his gun ready, but he doesn’t act worried. Then I realize why.
Thea strolls out of a side room carrying a gun in one hand and a knife in the other. Her husband stalks after her. He scowls at her in annoyance.
“You stole my kill,” he grumbles.
“You were too slow.” She lights up when she sees us. “Hey!”
Ignoring Kane’s order to wait, I run toward her. “Where’s Angelo? Have you found his sister?”
“He’s that way.” She points down a side corridor. “And I don’t know.” I dash off. Kane yells at me to stop, but I ignore him. Just as I reach a split in the corridor, a man emerges through a door, his arm around a weeping woman.
“Fina!”
She’s wearing a shirt that hits mid-thigh, and her hair is a mess, but there are no obvious injuries. Not physical ones, anyway.
When I reach her, she sniffs and wipes her eyes, attempting a feeble smile.
“Love the dress, babe.”
“Oh? This is my sex club outfit. Easy access, see?” I gesture up and down. “No panties.”
Angelo’s expression turns murderous. “Please tell me you wore underwear for this trip.”
“Um, no?”
“You and I will be having words later, princess!”
“Um, there’s something I need to tell you both…” My words trail off as I picture Lorenzo lying dead in a pool of blood. Fuck. I hope they’re not mad…