Chapter 8
HOLLIE
Despite Maxim’s seemingly insistent request to have me taken back to his penthouse, Xena insists on not letting me leave until she’s seen me eat something, so we linger at the club for another couple of hours.
The entire place feels like a dream. I clutched at freedom but not a single person here cared to help me.
Any concern anyone had melted away when they learned my captor was Maxim.
What kind of man has this many people afraid of him that they wouldn’t do a single thing to help me?
That they’d instead spend all their time and energy on helping him lock me into a marriage against my will?
Though for people who might be afraid of him, they all get along like the best of friends to the point that I’m beginning to feel like I’m the unreasonable one when Toto escorts me back to the car after a meal of chicken tenders and fries.
I’ve lost complete track of the days, haven’t slept in so long, and I cling to the faint hope that someone I recognize will see me and give me the out I desperately need.
But I see no one.
I’m escorted into the car and the door closes, locking me in a bubble of silence with only my turbulent thoughts for company. Toto drives around long enough that exhaustion is about to pull me under when we finally make it back to the penthouse.
“Why’d you take so many detours?” I ask as I climb out of the car with Toto holding the door open.
“Policy.”
“Policy?” I meet his eyes. “What kind of organization has a policy like that?”
He squints at me while leading me toward the building. “You really have no idea who we are, do you?”
“Should I?”
He doesn’t reply. Instead, he walks me right up to the elevator but doesn’t follow me inside.
“You’re not coming?”
“My place is here.”
“What if I escape the elevator?”
“If you manage to bypass the biometric instructions and escape, then I’d let you go. Anyone who can do that deserves to have their escape.”
“I’m a woman of many tricks.”
“Then I’ll see you when you make it out.”
The doors close and silence entombs me once again. Toto speaks to me like we’re friends and his words weave through my mind while I absently press buttons on the elevator’s control panel. They all light up to my touch, but it doesn’t stop the rapid pull upward.
Should I know who they are? Is Maxim some kind of celebrity? No, not with this kind of attitude. He must be something else. A criminal? Maybe he’s in a gang. That would explain why he has so many people around him who are loyal to him and don’t blink an eye when he kidnaps people.
I bite back a yawn when the small speaker box crackles under my fingers after I’ve pressed every single button.
The elevator stutters softly and then comes to a halt.
Hope rises inside me that I broke some secret code and the doors will open out onto another floor, but it’s Maxim’s dark penthouse that greets me when they open.
Shit.
I’m so tired.
My parents must be worried sick about me. Then again, they haven’t texted me. Mum might have taken her last comment literally and really not wanted me to go. Pulling my phone from my pocket as I trudge inside, my thumb hovers over the Emergency Call button.
If I press it and explain my situation, how quickly will the cops get here?
How quickly can they protect me and my family from a murderer?
Given Maxim’s all-knowing persona, probably not fast enough.
With a deep sigh, I slide my phone back into my pocket.
It’s useless until he tells me the new passcode because there’s no way I’d be able to crack it with a guess.
Maxim’s penthouse is dark and quiet. Water bubbles from the small plant-filled pool near the windows and a neon-green light flashes occasionally from the microwave in the kitchen, bathing the entire lounge in a sickly green light.
Low voices rise up from down the hall near the bathroom, and my heart starts to race.
Did Toto drive me around for so long that Maxim is already home?
I didn’t hear the elevator woman speak so maybe he doesn’t know I’m here.
The last thing I want to do is spook a man with a gun so taking a deep breath, I walk toward the hallway and try to think of something to say.
Mostly, I want to sleep, but I’m so strung out that I doubt I will drift off here until I’m past the point of exhaustion.
Creeping closer, the tones become clearer. That’s not Maxim’s voice. Who is that?”
“I don’t care,” drawls the deep, slow tones. “Do you understand how much money I have riding on this? My son should already be there, so why are you calling me?”
Son?
Wait… Igor. Maxim’s father is still here? My stomach sinks as the faces of his two guards roll through my mind and suddenly, a pang lances through my chest. Can I go back downstairs to Toto?
“Listen,” Igor snaps. “I want those Italian fucks dead, you hear me? I’ve given them chance after chance but those guns were fucking terrible.
I put down three guards after their hands got blown off due to their faulty equipment, and no money is going to be enough to cover the loss, you hear me? So kill him.”
Silence follows and I’m frozen in the hallway. One wrong move and the floorboards beneath me might give away my presence. The last thing I need is this man thinking I’m eavesdropping on him.
“Oh, him?” A dry laugh escapes Igor. “That Irish bastard was singing like a canary. I’ve got them exactly where I want them.
I didn’t spill all my blood over this city just for some Irish twat to swan in one day with a misguided claim for power.
He might have the manpower, but he sends his people in like fodder, and I mop the floor with them.
So listen, the next time he steps out of line, I want you to take his daughter.
Skin her alive and record the whole thing, understand? That should put him in his place.”
Skin her alive?
“Listen, I don’t have time for you to dance around this,” Igor snaps. “I’m too preoccupied with Maxim’s latest fucking project. Did I tell you he wants to marry that girl? This little street rat waltzes in and ruins everything.” A pause. “I’ll kill her before that happens.”
The weighty ring around my finger tells a different story. What the fuck have I walked into? I need to get out of here.
Or at least not get caught awkwardly hovering in the hallway listening to every twisted thing coming from that bastard’s mouth.
My thumb strokes over the ring snug around my finger as I creep back down the hall and past the innocent fish bubbling away in their watery haven.
Thankfully, nothing creaks to give me away and once I reach the elevator, I touch a few buttons.
“Access denied,” comes the soft, melodical woman’s voice from somewhere above me.
“Now you speak,” I hiss as she announces my presence to everyone else in this damn penthouse.
As I turn and walk slowly down the hall, it hits me.
Maxim never actually told me how to get in touch with him, or anyone else, for that matter, but I want to.
The thought of facing Igor by myself is a hundred times more daunting after listening to his tirade through the door.
This time as I reach the lounge, the lights flicker on and Maxim’s father strides down the hallway, visibly relaxed until he spots me. His expression sours immediately.
“Where’s my son?”
“I have no idea,” I answer honestly. “He left me some hours ago.”
Igor shrugs on a heavy woolen coat while flanked by only one of his creepy guards, the one with the blue tie, and nods. “Come with me.”
I step aside as he strides past me, assuming he’s talking to his guard, but he gets halfway down the hall and turns back to me. “Don’t make me drag you because I will.”
My racing heart pounds faster and faster. Curling both hands into fists, I swallow around the rising lump in my throat. “Maxim told me to stay here.”
Igor snaps his tongue against his teeth and before I know it, blue-tie has his hands painfully gripping both my arms while dragging me into the elevator.
“Hey! Let go!”
He shoves me hard up against the rear wall while Igor presses a button and we instantly descend.
Just as we reach the bottom, Igor turns to me.
“I don’t repeat myself. The next time I have to ask you twice, you’ll be obeying after he breaks your legs, understand?
” He points to blue-tie who watches me with a cold expression.
My heart’s beating so fast that the edges of my vision pulse with darkness. Each step I take feels lighter than the last and my stomach twists into so many knots that the lingering, comforting warmth from my last meal fades.
The lobby’s empty. I desperately glance around, looking for Toto, but even the person from the front desk is missing. There’s no one around when we make it outside and soon, I’m back in a car next to Igor while blue-tie drives us through the city.
“I don’t know what you did or how you did it,” Igor speaks in a flat tone.
I want to speak but my mouth won’t work.
“You put some kind of spell on my son, didn’t you?
” He fixes me with a furious glare and I can’t look away.
“He has a habit of picking up pet projects and forgetting where his loyalty should be. I entertain it from time to time because it keeps him happy, but this? You? Hardly fitting for a Mafia prince.”
Wait, a Mafia prince?
Like the flick of a switch, it suddenly all makes sense.
The men in suits. The expensive cars and the penthouse.
No one blinking at the murder or caring that I needed help.
Maxim’s in the Mafia, seemingly running it right under his father.
This has to be some kind of joke and before I can stop myself, shock has a soft scoff escaping me.
“You think it’s funny?” Igor snaps, and I flinch as he raises his hand. “I’ve worked far too hard and far too long for my plans to crumble just because he took pity on another street rat, so we’re going to make a—what the fuck is that?”
I flinch away from him again, but he’s fast for his age. He captures my hand in a vise-like grip with his nails digging painfully into the soft flesh of my wrist. Holding my hand aloft, he stares in disgust at the single gold ring around my finger.
“It’s a ring,” I manage to choke out. “We’re already married.”
“Fuck!” Igor yells so loud that the car swerves when his guard gets a fright. “That stupid fucking son of a bitch!”
He’s crushing my hand in his grip. Every passing second grinds the small bones inside my palm together and the pain flares sharp and hot. I start to struggle, but he seems completely unfazed.
“Let me go!”
“Does he have any idea what the fuck he has just done?” Igor glares at me as if I hold the answer.
“I don’t know,” I gasp as tears bead in my ears. “You’re hurting me, let me go!”
“Do you have any idea what this fucking means?” Every word is spat at me with intent to wound and hurt, and he drags me an inch closer over the seats. “You don’t understand a thing, do you?”
“No,” I gasp, fighting with all my strength. “Let go!”
He does, and I lunge back against my seat, gasping and cradling my hand.
“Idiot son of mine,” Igor growls. “That” —he points at the ring— “Were there witnesses?”
I nod silently.
“Fuck. Do you realize that marrying him grants you all the protection of being a Mafia wife? Did he explain any of that to you? Does he think I have guards to spare? He’s forcing me into a fucking corner because how will it look if I don’t spare men to protect his new bit of tail? Fucking hell.”
Protections? I don’t feel an ounce of that since they are the ones I need protection from.
“Did you see something?” Igor demands. “Did you see something you shouldn’t have?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I gasp, shrinking away from him.
“Spousal privilege. Do you know what that is?”
I nod hastily. “So, what’s the problem?” I gasp. “Anything I know, which is nothing, is through Maxim, so I wouldn’t be able to tell anyone anything.” Communication between a husband and wife is protected. Everyone knows that.
Is that why Maxim married me? So I can’t tell anyone about what I saw? And even if I did, it wouldn’t matter. The cops wouldn’t be able to listen.
“It matters,” Igor snarls. “Because I had plans. Maxim has a wife lined up, and it would be the cherry on top of a perfect deal until you came along.”
“I didn’t ask for this,” I hiss. “Just stop the car and let me out. I–I’ll disappear and no one will have to know! I won’t talk to anyone, I won’t bother anyone, I’ll just leave and vanish and—ack!”
Igor’s meaty hands are suddenly around my throat, and I choke violently with how quickly he cuts off my air supply. There’s so much pressure rising in my face that heat flares behind my eyeballs while my chest throbs and my heart stalls.
He slaps me once, then clamps that hand over my mouth and nose.
Something unlocks inside me and I fight. I fight like a wildcat caught in a trap. I hit him with all my strength, kick him with everything I can muster, scratch his arms and pull his hair like my life depends on it.
Because it does.
Suddenly, my shoe slips off in the struggle and blue-tie immediately yells in pain.
The car swerves dangerously and dislodges Igor from my body.
The moment his grip slackens, I suck in a deep breath and attack his face, clawing and scratching at his eyes until he’s the one yelling.
He slaps me again, then we’re all suddenly launched forward as blue-tie loses control of the vehicle.
I don’t wait for him to fix it.
My seatbelt snaps free and I open the door and throw myself out onto the cold, hard road where I land with a grunt and roll several times thanks to the momentum of the vehicle. Car brakes screech, but I’m already on my feet.
With one shoe, I turn and sprint, gasping through tears and throbbing lungs.
And I don’t look back.