Chapter 22 Mia
MIA
The house had been heavily guarded for the last few days. I ate alone at a table meant for twelve, my coffee cooling untouched while guards murmured. They’d doubled since yesterday. By mid-morning, I couldn’t stand the suffocating stillness. Catrina found me in the foyer, arms crossed.
“We should get out for a bit.”
I almost laughed. As if there were any oxygen left in this house full of secrets. But the thought of staying—of pacing the same polished hallways until my mind cracked—was worse.
“Let’s drive into the city. Somewhere quiet.”
Enrico did suggest we went somewhere a couple days ago before all this started. A break was needed. We told the guards. One insisted on accompanying us, but Catrina shook her head with her usual calm authority. “We’ll be gone for an hour.”
The car that pulled around wasn’t one I recognized. Black sedan, tinted windows. The driver opened the door. “Mrs. Di Fiore.” As the gates closed behind us, the estate disappeared in the rearview mirror, swallowed by mist and trees.
For a few miles, we said nothing. The city unfurled ahead.
“Has Enrico said anything to you? About why he’s... been different?”
Her fingers twisted the strap of her purse. “He’s under pressure. That’s all. Business.”
“Business always comes first.”
She didn’t reply.
The light turned red. The driver’s hand shifted, brushing something near the console.
“Where are we going?” Something wasn’t right.
“Just a little shortcut.”
Every muscle in my body went taut. “Catrina—”
The world fractured into motion. The locks clicked. The car came to a halt and the driver’s arm shot back, a glint of metal in his hand—something cold and sharp pressed against my throat.
“Don’t move.”
Another car pulled in behind us. The rest blurred: shouting, another car blocking our path, hands yanking the doors open. Then darkness. Laughter bubbled out of me. How cliché—to be snatched by our driver.
“Think this is funny?” one of the kidnappers growled, breath hot against my cheek. Before I could muster a response, his knuckles crashed into my nose, a crimson tide bursting forth to stain my lips.
“Enough!” barked a voice from the shadows. “Secure them.”
We were shoved into the back of a van. Zip ties bit into our wrists, plastic cutting skin. The engine roared to life, the city dissolving into a smear of light and motion.
Minutes, maybe hours later, the van jerked to a stop. We were dragged into a warehouse that smelled of mold. They shoved us into chairs.
“Make the call,” the leader said.
A man dialed and waited for someone to pick up. “We have your daughter. And her friend.”
My pulse thundered. Wife, I wanted to correct him. Enrico’s wife. His prize. His weakness. Whoever this man was, he fucked with the wrong man.
“Understand this,” the man continued. “If you want to see them alive, you’ll comply. We’ll be in touch.”
When he hung up, silence fell heavy enough to crush air. Then a new voice cut through it—smooth, mocking. “News travels fast. Mia here isn’t just Don’s daughter.”
The men turned. Another figure emerged from the doorway, dark coat gleaming with rain. His grin was sharp as a blade. “She’s Enrico Di Fiore’s new wife.”
A murmur rippled through the room. My stomach dropped.
“Looks like we hit the jackpot,” he said. “Two birds, one stone—the wife and sister of a king who thinks he can’t bleed. We’ll fucking show him not to mess with us.”
Catrina flinched. Her fear vibrated through the air like static.
“Think of the leverage,” another man said. “Her old man on his knees, Enrico tearing the city apart to get her back.”
Their laughter echoed off the walls, ugly and certain.
“Enrico will kill you for this.” I tugged, trying to set myself free. “He won’t stop until he finds you. And even if he pays you… you’ll be looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life. Because a man like him - he doesn’t stop until he gets revenge.”
That silenced them for half a heartbeat. Doubt flickered—then vanished under bravado. I filed that away. They thought they’d captured victims. They’d caught a storm.
“Stay focused, Mia.” Catrina’s voice steadied me. “We can stay safe until he gets here.”
I took stock. The guard by the door was slouching, distracted. One man’s jacket draped over a chair—beneath it, the faint glint of a knife. Every detail was a weapon.
“Must be tough,” I said to the nearest one. “Being errand boys. Always following orders, never trusted with anything important.”
He sneered. “And what would you know about it, princess?”
“More than you think.”
Another man snorted. “Shut your mouth.”
But I saw it—the flicker of irritation in the leader’s eyes. Good. I wanted them off balance.
Catrina caught my gaze. We didn’t speak, but the message passed between us clear as a shout: Not yet. Wait for the opening.
Hours bled by. The light overhead flickered in and out, a heartbeat to count time by. I worked the zip ties against the edge of the chair. Pain burned through my wrists, sharp and raw, but the give was there—a tiny split in the plastic, growing.
“You’ll regret this.”
A careless captor tossed his jacket again. The knife flashed. My fingers ached to close around it.
Let them keep laughing. Let them drink and boast and believe they’d won. They didn’t know what kind of woman Enrico married. They didn’t know what kind of woman he’d made.
I twisted once more, the tie biting deep—then snapping. Freedom came with the softest sound.
Catrina’s eyes widened, understanding dawning.
“Trust me,” I whispered. “We’ll walk out of here together.”
And when we did, the men who thought themselves predators would learn a new truth— That even in darkness, there are queens who bite back.