Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Lily
The drive is silent at first, mainly because I’m holding back the pain I am feeling.
I’m unharmed, but it feels like I am suffering from gunshot wounds.
The cold metal chain around my neck is despicable.
Killian hasn’t let go of the metal chain since he put it on.
I lean my head against the window, my arms wrapped around my waist, thinking about what my sisters are doing.
Would Stasia or Selene tell Mom I was missing?
“You ever been to Ireland?” Killian asks, causing me to turn my head in his direction.
“My idea of a vacation doesn’t involve staring at endless green mountains.”
“It’s no Milan or Paris, but there’s no place like it.”
“So amazing that you left,” I reply with an arched brow. “So did your mom know her sons are criminals?”
He nods his head. “Our mother was the matriarch around here. Where do you think we got the audacity?”
I clutch my fists, unsure if I want to know the answer to this. “Why can’t you call my family and let them know I’m safe? No one has called you yet? There’s been no talk of me missing?”
Isn’t anyone trying to find me? My trip to St. Tropez is in a few days. My sisters know I wouldn’t miss it.
“Alessio knows you’re with me. Once he helps with something, we will be on a flight back to the States. Other than that, I’m pretty sure they are keeping your whereabouts a secret. That won’t look good for Alessio.” He shoots me a look.
That’s an odd comment to make. “How so?”
“Well, he can’t be focused on finding a woman that he’s not with. Especially when he has a knocked-up girlfriend. It will make him look weak, that any woman can steal his attention and he’s willing to bypass what’s best for his heir for someone else.”
My cheeks flush with warmth as the reality of the situation sinks in. “Well, they aren’t dating. And I’m an Andretti. My brothers-in-law are close to Alessio. Why wouldn’t he help his associates?” I shift nervously in my seat, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of my shirt.
“Because part of being a good leader isn’t to please everyone.” Killian’s voice is steady, but I can feel the tension radiating off him.
We pull up to the house, the barn glowing ominously from within, casting eerie shadows on the gravel driveway.
“Isn’t Cameron your friend?” I ask, my voice wavering slightly as I catch a glimpse of Killian's expression. He continues to stare straight ahead, his jaw set, lips pressed into a thin line.
“He’s the closest thing to it,” he replies, his tone clipped.
“But in our world, when you sit on opposite sides of the table, friendship means nothing.” His gaze remains fixed on the barn, eyes narrowing slightly as if he’s already calculating the complexities of our situation.
“If the roles were reversed, Cameron would do the same. That’s just how it is.
No hard feelings.” He shrugs dismissively, but his posture is rigid, reflecting the weight of his words.
“What do you need from Alessio?” I ask, the lump in my throat tightening as I try to maintain my composure.
“I need Alessio to get the Russians out of my territory. Once he does that, you can go back to your lavish lifestyle, unbothered by the world around you.” He opens his door with a decisive motion, and I can see the tension in his shoulders as he continues, “Can you manage another few days?”
“I’ve held up this far,” I reply, trying to sound more confident than I feel.
The lump in my throat grows heavier. Unbothered? My mind races with images of the girls in cages, the cries echoing in my ears, a haunting reminder of the nightmare that surrounds us.
Killian steps out of the car, his movements sharp and deliberate as he pulls on the chain that tugs at my neck, urging me to follow.
“Seriously?!” I exclaim, my annoyance flaring as I awkwardly climb over to the driver’s side. “Taking this a little too seriously, don’t you think?” I shoot him a glare, my eyebrows furrow in frustration.
Killian joins his brother, who circles the man.
Their laughter echoes through the barn with promises of violence.
My heart races as I watch the man tied to a chair, already bruised and bloodied, eyes wide with terror.
Killian leans in close, his voice low and menacing, dripping with a twisted kind of charm. “Tell us who sent you.”
Each brother holds a cruel smile. The man shakes his head violently, desperation etched into every line of his face.
Killian grabs a pair of pliers. I want to turn away, close my eyes, and block it all out, but when I close my eyes, all I see are those girls locked in cages.
Killian speaks to his brothers as though guiding them on how to properly torture someone. He tosses the pliers to JoJo.
I watch as Killian says something to JoJo before the man screams in pain.
I feel a sharp pang of revulsion when I see JoJo hold up the man’s finger in the air.
Blood is gushing everywhere. Between the men’s laughter and the violence, it forms a knot of disgust and fear, leaving me unable to breathe.
The man refuses to speak, no matter what they do to him.
Killian picks up the machete and, with a blow, he strikes the man’s chest.
Jumping out of the seat, the man beside me pushes my shoulder back down, forcing me back into the seat.
Killian keeps going until the man’s heart beats right out of his chest. I am paralyzed in fear.
This is the side of the lifestyle that I was kept from.
Every diamond I wear, designer clothes, and bags all come from this somehow.
I always held pride knowing my father was well respected, and in return, me, my mother, and sisters got the same respect because of who my father was.
Now fully understanding what that means, I’m not sure if the Andretti name is worth upholding.
Just as Killian steps back to wipe his hands on a cloth, looking satisfied with the mess they have created, I begin to shake as he makes his way toward me. Falling out of the chair, I crawl backward as tears stream down my face, the sounds of the metal chain clinking against the ground.
“You look like shit,” Killian says, looking down at me. “You should go inside and rest. It’s been a long day.”
When I reach the door of the barn, I pull myself up.
My legs are wobbly, and there’s no strength to push open the heavy wooden door.
Killian reaches over me with force, opening the barn and simultaneously unhooking the chain connected to the collar.
The fresh air hits me like a wave but does nothing to erase the images seared into my brain.
When I look over my shoulder, Killian doesn’t look bothered that I am far enough from him to run, but after what I saw, he knows I won’t run.