Chapter 22
CHAPTER 22
I flatten myself against the wall, holding my breath as Noah punches in the code to unlock the door. My heart pounds so loudly I'm afraid he'll hear it.
Four-eight-seven-two-six-three.
I commit the numbers to memory, watching his fingers move across the keypad. A small victory in this nightmare. And then he leaves.
Four-eight-seven-two-six-three.
My ticket out of here.
I can hear Matteo moving around in the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets. I need to be patient. Need to wait for the right moment when he's distracted enough for me to make it to the door.
Jessica's face flashes in my mind. Then Michael's. Both missing because of me. Because I was stupid enough to sign that contract with Ivan without understanding what I was getting into. And now Noah is hunting Ivan, which will only make things worse.
I press my palms against my eyes. This is all my fault.
But I can fix it. I know I can. If I can get to Ivan before Noah does something irreversible, I can offer myself in exchange for Jessica and Michael. It's the only way.
Now I just need to wait for Matteo to get comfortable. To drop his guard. To give me just one moment when he's not watching.
Four-eight-seven-two-six-three.
I repeat the numbers in my head like a prayer. My escape plan. My salvation.
And Jessica's too, if I'm lucky.
I take a deep breath, smoothing down my clothes, then step into the living room. Matteo's sprawled on the couch, scrolling through his phone. He looks up when I enter, a knowing smirk spreading across his face.
"Well, well. Sleeping Beauty emerges." His eyes flick over my face, lingering a bit too long. "You look like shit, by the way."
"Thanks," I say flatly. "Always a pleasure chatting, Matteo."
"Rough night?" He raises an eyebrow. "I mean, between you bawling and Noah punching walls this place sounds like a war zone."
I feel my cheeks flush. "Are you just here to torment me, or do you have an actual purpose?"
"Both." He grins, pocketing his phone. "Noah said to keep you company. Make sure you don't do anything stupid."
"Look," I sigh, walking over to the entertainment center. "I'm not in the mood for your commentary. Why don't you just sit and watch something? There must be a game on or whatever it is you guys do when you're not kidnapping people."
Matteo laughs, a genuine sound that surprises me. "You've got balls, violin girl. I'll give you that."
I grab the remote and toss it to him. "Here. Find something mindless. I need to not think for a while."
He catches it easily, studying me with unexpected seriousness. "You really care about your sister, huh?"
"She's all I have," I say quietly, sinking into the armchair across from him. "And Michael is... he's just a friend. A good one. They don't deserve to be caught up in this."
Matteo nods slowly, then turns to the TV. "Fine. One mindless distraction coming up."
He flips through channels until landing on some action movie with explosions and car chases. Perfect. Loud enough to cover my thoughts. Distracting enough to keep him occupied.
I watch Matteo from the corner of my eye as the movie plays. He seems completely absorbed in the mindless action flick, occasionally chuckling at explosions. I've been waiting for over an hour for him to use the bathroom or step away, but he hasn't budged.
My patience is wearing thin. Every minute I waste here is another minute Jessica and Michael spend with Ivan. I need to act now.
I stand abruptly. "I'm going to sort through some of the clothes Noah bought me."
Matteo barely glances up. "Whatever. Just stay where I can see you."
I walk to the bedroom door, then pause. An idea forms in my mind—simple but possibly effective. I step inside the room and start making frustrated noises, yanking at the dresser drawer.
"Shit," I mutter loudly. Then louder: "Hey, Matteo?"
"What?" he calls from the couch.
"This drawer is completely stuck. Can you help me for a second?" I make more struggling sounds, rattling the drawer harder.
I hear him sigh dramatically. "Jesus Christ, are you serious right now?"
"Please? It has my..." I pause for effect, "underwear in it."
That gets him moving. I hear the couch leather flex as he stands.
"Fine," he grumbles, walking toward the bedroom. "But make it quick. I'm missing the good part."
The moment Matteo steps into the bedroom, I slip past him through the doorway. Before he can react I slam the door shut and twist the lock.
"What the—" His voice turns from confusion to rage in an instant. "Evelyn! Open this fucking door right now!"
"I'm sorry," I say, backing away as he pounds against the wood. "I have to do this."
"You are stupid as hell!" He slams his body against the door, making it shudder. "Noah's going to kill you! And then he's going to kill me!"
I rush to the front door, my fingers trembling as I punch in the code.
Four-eight-seven-two-six-three.
The lock clicks open.
"Evelyn!" Matteo roars, the bedroom door creaking under his assault. "Don't do this! You have no idea what you're walking into!"
I hesitate for just a second, my hand on the doorknob.
"I'm sorry," I whisper again, though I know he can't hear me. "But I have to save them."
I step into the hallway and pull the door shut behind me.
I dash down the hallway, my heart pounding against my ribs like a trapped bird. The elevator takes an eternity to arrive and I keep glancing back at Noah's door, expecting Matteo to burst through at any second. When the doors finally slide open I nearly collapse with relief.
Inside the elevator I press the lobby button repeatedly, willing it to move faster. My hands are shaking. I have no phone, no money, not even a jacket. But I know where I need to go.
The doorman gives me a curious look as I hurry across the marble lobby. I force a smile and wave as if everything is normal, as if I'm not escaping captivity.
Outside, the cold air hits me like a slap. I scan the street and spot a yellow taxi approaching. I wave frantically and it pulls over.
"Where to, miss?" The driver asks as I slide into the backseat.
"East 65th Street," I say, giving him Ivan's address without hesitation. I've been there countless times for dinner parties and contract discussions. The grand townhouse where I signed away my freedom without realizing it.
The driver looks at me expectantly in the rearview mirror.
"I... I don't have any money with me," I admit. "But someone at the destination will pay. Double the fare, even. It's an emergency."
Something in my expression must convince him because he nods and pulls away from the curb.
"Thank you," I say, sinking back against the seat.
As we weave through Manhattan traffic I stare out the window, trying to organize my thoughts. Ivan wants me. He has Jessica and Michael. It's a simple equation with only one solution.
Me for them.
The taxi turns onto Ivan's street, lined with elegant townhouses. I recognize his immediately – the imposing stone facade with black iron gates. My stomach knots as we pull up to the curb.
"This is it," I tell the driver. "Just wait here. Someone will come out to pay you."
I step out of the taxi and approach the gate, pressing the intercom button with a shaky finger. A camera above the gate swivels toward me.
"It's Evelyn Anderson," I say clearly. "I'm here to see Ivan."
There's a long pause before the intercom crackles to life.
"Miss Anderson." The voice belongs to Dmitri, Ivan's head of security. "What a pleasant surprise."
The gate buzzes and swings open.
I pull up to Damiano's house, the engine of the bike still rumbling beneath me. My head's a mess of strategies and threats—ways to find Jessica, ways to hurt Ivan, ways to keep Evelyn safe. The thought of her alone in my apartment with only Matteo watching her makes my stomach twist, but I push it down. Focus on the task. That's what I've always done.
The guard at the gate nods as I pass through. He knows better than to stop me.
I park the bike and stride toward the main entrance, my boots crunching on the gravel driveway. The mansion looms ahead, all old money and power. The Ferettis have been in control for generations, and it shows in every brick.
When I push open the door I'm surprised to find Lucrezia standing in the foyer. She's wearing paint-splattered jeans and a loose shirt, her dark hair pulled back in a messy bun. She doesn't look like the mafia princess she is—more like the bohemian artist she wants to be.
"Noah," she says, her eyes narrowing slightly. "I didn't expect to see you back so soon."
"Need to talk to your brother," I say, already moving past her toward Damiano's office.
She steps in front of me, blocking my path. "He's on a call with the Colombians. Something about that shipment in Queens."
I clench my jaw. "This can't wait."
"It'll have to." Her voice is firm. She's not afraid of me—never has been. That's the thing about Lucrezia, she grew up surrounded by killers. Takes more than my scowl to scare her.
"Fine." I cross my arms, leaning against the wall. "How long?"
"Twenty minutes, maybe." She studies my face. "You look like shit."
"Thanks."
"Is this about Evelyn?" she asks, her voice dropping lower.
I don't answer, which is answer enough.
I check my phone. No messages from Matteo. That's good—means everything's quiet at the apartment. Evelyn's safe. For now.
"How's she handling her sister being missing?" Lucrezia asks.
"How do you think? She blames herself. Blames me more."
"She's wrong not to blame Ivan."
"I'm the one who took her," I say, the words tasting bitter. "I started this."
Lucrezia shakes her head. "Ivan was coming for her. You just got there first."
I shake my head, running a hand through my hair. "She doesn't get it. Evelyn's not part of this world. She doesn't understand what Ivan would have done to her."
Lucrezia's eyes soften. "She will soon enough. Ivan's not known for his subtlety."
"That's what I'm afraid of." I push off from the wall, pacing the foyer. My boots echo against the marble floor. "She thinks I'm the monster in this story. That if I'd just left her alone, everything would be fine."
"And what would have happened if you had?"
I stop pacing, looking Lucrezia dead in the eyes. "Ivan would have taken her that night. He'd have broken her. Used her. Then discarded her when he was done."
"And now?"
"Now he's taken her sister and her friend to get to her." I clench my fists so tight my knuckles almost open up again. "She thinks if she just surrenders herself to him, he'll let them go."
Lucrezia laughs bitterly. "We both know that's not how this works."
"Yeah." I check my phone again. Still nothing from Matteo. "She blames me for starting a war. Says I should trade her for her sister."
"And will you?"
The question hangs in the air between us. For a second I imagine doing it—handing Evelyn over to Ivan, watching her walk away from me. The thought makes my blood run cold.
"No." The word comes out like a growl. "Never."
Lucrezia nods, like she expected nothing less. "Then you better make her understand why. Before she does something stupid."
I check my watch for the tenth time. Fifteen minutes have passed. Five more to go. I can't stand still so I pace the hallway outside Damiano's office like a caged animal.
"You're going to wear a hole in the floor," Lucrezia says, watching me from where she's perched on a decorative bench.
"He needs to hurry the fuck up." My voice comes out rough, impatient.
Just as I'm about to bang on Damiano's door it swings open. He emerges looking tired, his suit jacket slung over one shoulder.
"Noah," he says, spotting me immediately. "What's happened now?"
"We need to talk. About Ivan."
Damiano sighs, gesturing me into his office. "Come in."
I follow him inside, barely waiting for the door to close. "We need to move on Ivan now. Not tomorrow, not after some fucking strategy meeting. Now."
"You know that's not how this works," Damiano says, settling behind his desk. "Ivan has connections throughout the East Coast. We move too quickly, we risk?—"
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I glance at the screen. Matteo.
"Give me a second," I tell Damiano, answering the call. "What is it?"
"She's gone." Matteo's voice is strained.
Everything in me goes cold. "What the fuck did you just say?"
"Evelyn. She locked me in your bedroom. She's gone."
"What the fuck, Matteo? How could you let this happen?" I'm shouting now, my free hand slamming against the wall. "I trusted you with one fucking job!"
"She tricked me, man. She?—"
"I don't give a shit what she did! You were supposed to watch her!" My voice echoes off the walls of Damiano's office.
"Noah," Damiano says sharply, standing up. "What's happening?"
I ignore him, still yelling into the phone. "How long has she been gone?"
"Maybe twenty minutes. I had to break down your fucking bedroom door."
"Fuck! FUCK!" I kick the nearest chair, sending it crashing into the wall. "She's going to Ivan."
"Noah!" Damiano's voice cuts through my rage. "Get it together and tell me what's happening."
I lower the phone, my chest heaving. "Evelyn's gone. She slipped past Matteo. She's going to turn herself over to Ivan to save her sister."
"Shit," Damiano mutters.
"I'm going after her." I'm already moving toward the door.
"Noah, wait?—"
I whirl around, pointing a finger at him. "Don't you dare try to stop me. She's mine. I'm not letting Ivan touch her."