Chapter 28
Evelyn
My stomach churns so violently that I might be sick. I swallow against the burn at the back of my throat and blink rapidly to hold the tears at bay.
The man who just dismissed me after that horrific auction is a stranger to me. Massimo barely even looked at me when he handed me off to his drug lord friend, Stefano.
If I hadn’t seen the awful events with my own eyes, I wouldn’t believe them.
Massimo bid on the right to take an unwilling woman’s virginity. He bought her body right in front of me.
The diamond necklace becomes an iron weight around my neck, a shackle.
I debased myself for him. I eagerly welcomed him into my body.
I’ve been an idiot to think I have some sort of hold over him.
The cold, hard fact is that he stalked me. And even though I willingly fled from cartel violence when I got on that motorcycle with him, he abducted me against my will.
So many times, I’ve said that I don’t want to be part of his criminal world. I’ve told him that I just want to go home to America.
But he kept me, regardless of my wishes. I thought it was because he cared about me as deeply as I cared for him, but if that were true, he wouldn’t be capable of betraying me like this.
Pain knifes through my chest, increasing my nausea as I stumble deeper into the empty mansion. Stefano left me as soon as I locked the door behind me. He promised that no one would dare to cross the threshold, and then he excused himself so he could go back to the club.
Maybe they plan to share the girl. The other two drug lords didn’t stop the disgusting auction.
My heart aches for her. She’d clearly been unwilling and terrified out of her mind.
Massimo will probably be gentle with her. He’ll coax her into his bed, just like he fooled me.
How could I be so stupid? I spent years engaged to George, when all he did was take me for granted and ultimately put my life at risk for his own gain.
And now I’ve run straight into the arms of a different monster. Massimo has never hidden his mafia ties from me, and that engendered some sort of twisted trust between us.
But just because he doesn’t hide his crimes doesn’t absolve him. He’s shown me who he really is tonight.
The diamonds chafe against my skin, as though the precious metal that encases them has been dipped in acid. I claw at the clasp, desperate to get the sign of his ownership off my neck.
The clasp opens, and I drop the necklace to the polished hardwood floor as though it burns me. I place my hand on my bare throat, reassuring myself that the awful weight is gone.
I draw in several deep breaths, struggling to tame my tangled thoughts.
Berating myself for my foolishness won’t save me.
For the first time, Massimo has left me alone. He obviously believes I’m thoroughly under his control, and he can amuse himself elsewhere while I obediently wait for his return.
Stefano promised that no one would dare to cross the threshold to get to me—this is Adrián’s mansion, and I fully believe that no one will challenge the sadistic cartel kingpin.
But he didn’t lock me in from the outside. There’s nothing to stop me from leaving this place.
From the little I’ve seen of the town and its jungle surroundings, I know that we’re somewhere very remote. Men in military uniforms patrol the streets. There’s a chance that they’re loyal to Adrián, but that doesn’t mean they’re loyal to Massimo.
I’m an American citizen, and I’ve been kidnapped by a mafia boss.
Massimo doesn’t seem to care about the threat that US law enforcement poses to his organization, but I bet the local officials will. If I get to one of the soldiers and tell them about my plight, they’ll contact the American authorities. This is my way home.
George is still in Mexico City, looking for me. But I’ll be safely back in Albuquerque, under federal protection, by the time he finds out that I’ve been rescued. I’ll tell the DEA the truth about George’s corruption. He’ll be arrested, and he won’t be able to kill me to keep his terrible secret.
I don’t know how long Massimo will be distracted by the poor girl he purchased like an object rather than a human being.
Maybe I can convince the authorities to save her too.
Before I lose my nerve, I gather my composure and slip out into the night.
Humid air draws a sheen of sweat to the surface of my skin within seconds, but I ignore the discomfort.
My dress is lightweight enough that I won’t overheat—Massimo made sure to dress me up like his little doll, a pretty toy he likes to adorn with silk and gems.
The black silk clings to my sticky skin as I hurry through the empty streets. At this late hour, no one seems to frequent the wealthy, small neighborhood.
Maybe all of the residents are at that awful club.
I shudder and shove the heart wrenching memories from my mind before the agony of Massimo’s betrayal overwhelms me again.
I round a corner, and my heart leaps into my throat.
Two men in military fatigues stroll down the street, which clearly divides the wealthy neighborhood from the more impoverished part of town. The buildings opposite me are painted in fading pastels and built in crumbling stucco. Behind me, the mansions seem more garish and incongruous than ever.
The men spot me and quicken their pace, closing the distance between us in a few long strides. I square my shoulders and meet them halfway, refusing to show weakness or fear. I will get back home, and these men will help me. Calm competence will serve me better than desperate tears.
“I need your help,” I say in Spanish, speaking clearly and firmly. “I’m an American citizen, and I’ve been brought here against my will. I need to contact the authorities so that I can get back home. Can you please take me to your superior officer or someone who can help me do this?”
One of the men blinks, as though he’s completely taken aback.
I suppose the entire situation is a bit bizarre.
I’m wearing an expensive gown and designer heels, but I’m wandering around the streets alone at night.
And I speak fluent Spanish despite the obvious American accent I can’t quite smooth away.
“Who brought you here?” the one who isn’t utterly bewildered asks, his eyes roving over me in a way that sets my teeth on edge.
“A man who kidnapped me when I was visiting Mexico City,” I reply as evenly as I can manage.
The way he’s looking at me makes the back of my neck prickle with instinctive warning, but I can’t give up now. I’ve exposed myself, and I have to see this through.
I don’t want to tell them about Massimo. They might know about his friendship with Adrián, and there’s a good chance that Adrián pays them to look the other way while he does business here.
I focus my attention on the dumbstruck one, sensing less danger from him. He’s more likely to assist me than the one who studied me with predatory interest.
“Will you help me? I just want to go home.”
“Come with us,” the dangerous one commands.
I hesitate, keeping my eyes on the quiet one. “Please?”
He glances at the other man, then nods at me. “I’ll take you to speak to our superior officer.”
I huff out a small, relieved breath, but my senses remain on high alert. I walk between the two men, edging my body slightly closer to the quiet one. He keeps his eyes forward, assessing our surroundings like the trained soldier he is. The dangerous one’s gaze strays to me.
I pretend not to notice. Once I contact the American authorities, no one will dare to touch me.
My feet ache in the designer heels, a ridiculous choice for the hardpacked earth streets as we leave the wealthy neighborhood behind.
But Massimo didn’t provide me with anything as mundane as sneakers, and I didn’t take the time to change before making my escape.
I didn’t have the luxury of time. I saw my chance and took it.
Blisters are beginning to form on my heels by the time we reach an official-looking building constructed of gray concrete blocks. It isn’t remotely ornate, but it’s in far better repair than most of the surrounding buildings. Someone allocates money to keep this place in order.
The Colombian military or Adrián Rodríguez?
I suppress a shiver and keep my composed mask carefully in place as I step inside, flanked by the two men as though they’re my personal guards.
Or my jailors.
The urge to turn around and keep the dangerous one in my line of sight is almost overwhelming. I lift my chin, striding with purpose as though I know where I want to go.
A broad-shouldered, middle-aged man with a military-short haircut sits behind a massive desk. When we enter the building, he doesn’t immediately look up from his paperwork. That signals that he’s in charge. Or at the very least, he outranks the men accompanying me.
My high heels click on the floor as I step toward him, and the sound captures his attention. He glances up from his papers and immediately freezes. His shocked expression would be almost comical if I weren’t so desperate for his urgent help.
“My name is Evelyn Day,” I say quickly, wanting to plead my case before anything else happens.
I have to maintain control of this situation, or everything could go very wrong, very quickly.
“I managed to escape from the man who kidnapped me and brought me here. Could you please help me contact the American authorities so that I can go home?”
He stares at me for several long, painful heartbeats.
Then he throws back his head and roars out a laugh.
My blood runs cold.
Instinctively, I take a step back. Rough hands grab my upper arms, trapping me in place.
“She says she’s American,” the quiet one says, his tone uncertain.
“I am,” I manage.
Words are my only weapon. These men are armed to the teeth, and even if they weren’t, I don’t have a hope of fighting my way out of here.
“I’m an American citizen,” I assert again, struggling for calm as the older man gets up from his desk and prowls toward me. “If you contact the embassy in Bogotá, they’ll help me get home.”
The older one stops on the edge of my personal space.
This close, I can see that his eyes are a dark, forest green, but despite the rich color, they hold no warmth.
His buzzed hair is more salt than pepper, and weathered lines from long days in the sun age his face.
They could be laugh lines, but the cruel amusement that creases the wrinkles makes my flight instinct kick in.
I try to twist free from the man holding me captive, but his hands clamp down hard enough to bruise.
“Maybe we should contact the embassy,” the quiet one still sounds uneasy. “There might be a reward for her return.”
“If you don’t have the stomach for this, you can leave,” the oldest one sneers.
“Let me go,” I demand breathlessly, twisting in my captor’s iron grip.
The leader laughs. “You’re not going anywhere.
Not for a while, at least.” He reaches out and picks up a lock of my hair, testing the texture of the silky strands between grubby fingers.
“We’ll get more for her than the Americans would offer us.
They don’t even know she’s here. Do they? ” he asks me.
My heart sinks. No one knows I’m here, not even Massimo. I wanted to escape from him, but the fate that my assailants plan for me is far worse.
“Take me to Adrián Rodríguez.” I try to issue a command, but it comes out as a rough plea. “He’ll tell you who I am.”
The older man’s brows lift. “So, now you know Rodríguez? I don’t think so.”
“She might.” The quiet one isn’t as quiet anymore. He might prove to be my salvation. “We found her near his mansion. I don’t want to cross him.”
The one who has me in his harsh grip says, “Even if she does know him, she was running away from that area. She doesn’t belong to anyone.”
“Massimo Imperiale.” I say his name like a prayer to a guardian angel. I only just learned his surname when Stefano introduced us to Adrián, but I hope it holds weight with these men. “I belong to Massimo.”
The leader shrugs. “Never heard of him.”
“This is a mistake.” My only advocate speaks up for me again. “I don’t want to be involved in this. Either the Americans will punish us, or Rodríguez will. Think about—”
Without so much as blinking, the leader draws his gun from the holster at his side, aims, and fire.
I scream at the close proximity of the gunshot. My ears ring, and I’m not sure if it’s from the deafening noise or from the panic that crushes me. My advocate lays on the floor, blood pooling around his ruined skull.
“He was never cut out for this,” his murderer says dismissively.
He sets his gun on the desk behind him to free up both of his hands. His dirty fingers fist in my silk dress, tearing the delicate material.
“How much do you think we’ll get for her?” he asks my captor.
“Depends how much we fuck her up first,” he replies dispassionately. “Be careful with her face. She’s pretty.”
Another scream tears from deep inside my chest: a grating mix of impotent rage and primal fear. I lift my knee and then slam my high heel down hard on the top of my assailant’s foot.
He barks a curse, and his grip on me loosens. I wrench my arms free from his grasping hands and lurch toward the exit, desperate to get out of this nightmare.
Pain rips at my scalp when one of them grabs my hair, hauling me back. I shriek and struggle, swinging wildly to defend myself. My fist glances off the older man’s jaw. He laughs like he’s having the time of his life.
He backhands me, a casual blow that sends me reeling.
The world flickers around me, and when it comes back into focus, I lay on the cold concrete floor. The dangerous one I’ve been wary of from the very beginning looms over me.
Before I can form a fist, he grabs my wrists and pins them over my head. His awful weight settles over me, and the scent of stale sweat and cigarettes turns the oxygen into poison as I heave in a desperate breath.
“Get off her,” the older man barks.
For one insane moment, I think he might relent. He might change his mind and set me free.
My captor shoves off me, but he keeps my wrists trapped above my head. The leader leers at me and reaches for his belt.
“It’s my turn first.”
I scream and thrash, but I only earn more bruises. Pain and terror engulf me, making my lungs seize. I gasp in one lungful of toxic air and cry out for my dark savior.
But he isn’t coming. He doesn’t know where I am.
And he has a new, pretty distraction to occupy his attention.
I’ll never see Massimo again. I’ll never go home. I won’t survive this.