Chapter 39
Thirty-Nine
It all happens at once.
I scream as the shot fires and someone’s body crashes into mine, sending me crashing to the floor with a sharp burst of pain. The room erupts in chaos, and I’m frozen in place as I watch Vitali’s eyes widen in horror when his sister’s body hits the ground with a deafening thud. Wincing, I get to my feet, watching as Matthias, who had been buried in the crowd of onlookers, rushes forward and starts barking orders.
Hadn’t he been down in the cellar with us at one point? How did he get free? My gaze scans the crowd, searching for the others, but I can’t find them. Instead, my eyes land on Sevia, who is using the disruption of her own daughter’s injury to sneak toward the exit. Opening my mouth, I go to scream when a rough, calloused hand clamps over my mouth, muffling the terror ripping through my throat. I thrash on instinct, my nails clawing at the iron grip around my waist, but it is useless. The person is too strong, too determined.
Tears escape when I hear Antonia’s strangled gasp cut through the madness, the sickening sound of Vitali’s roar of pain sending waves of ice through my veins. I can’t see them anymore through the blur of bodies moving in panic, but I know.
Antonia isn’t going to make it.
She died for me.
Twisting harder, I kick wildly, trying to wrench free, to run to Vitali, but the man holding me yanks me back against his chest. A low grunt of effort rumbles against my spine as he hauls me toward the doorway with no one the wiser. I dig my heels into the marble floor, my breath coming in ragged, desperate bursts against his suffocating palm.
“Keep struggling, and I’ll break something,” he growls in my ear. My body tenses, the weight of his threat pressing against the terror already seizing through me but if I stop, who knows where he will take me.
So I bite his fucking hand.
The man curses, his grip loosening just enough for me to twist my head and suck in a breath. “Vita?—”
The slap comes fast, hard. My head snaps to the side, pain exploding along my cheekbone. The world tilts, stars flashing in my vision, and before I can blink them away, he is dragging me through the door, out of sight and into the darkness beyond the chaos.
No, no, no.
I fight harder when I see the waiting car ahead, my pulse hammering against my skull, but it doesn’t matter.
“Gag this bitch and tie her hands,” the fucker with his palm on my mouth growls angrily.
“No.” I shake my head in a lame attempt to prevent the man’s accomplice from tying the dirty cloth around my mouth while the other one binds my hands in front of me .
“In you go,” the man sneers, popping the trunk on the car and shoving me inside.
“Wftt.” The plea comes out jumbled, but the man just laughs and then slams the trunk shut, plunging me into darkness.
The stale scent of rubber and gasoline fills my nose as I gasp for breath, my cheek stinging from where he’d hit me. I kick out, my heel striking the metal with a dull thud, but the car is already moving, the vibrations rumbling beneath me as they speed away from the chaos I’ve just been ripped from.
No. No. No.
My pulse pounds, body shaking from adrenaline and fear as my hands scramble over the rough fabric lining of the trunk, searching for anything I can get my hands on. A latch. A weakness. A way out. But there is nothing but cold, unyielding metal.
Vitali.
Will he have noticed I’m gone?
My breath hitches as panic claws at my chest, my heart feeling as though it might shatter through my ribs as the car swerves sharply, my body rolling against the side. I manage to catch myself, swallowing down a cry.
Stay calm. Think.
Twisting my body, I feel along the seam where the trunk latches shut. Some cars have emergency releases inside the trunk. Please, let this be one of them. My fingers brush over something.
Yes!
A thin lever is tucked against the wall. I yank it. Nothing. Another yank, this time harder.
My stomach drops. The bastards have disabled it.
A muffled voice reaches through the metal, the low murmur of the man speaking on the phone. I strain to listen, my blood running cold at his words.
“…Got her. Yeah. Heading to the drop now…No, he doesn’t know yet.”
The drop.
Digging my nails into my palms, I bite back a sob. Where are they taking me?
And more importantly, how the hell am I going to get out?
The car jolts as it hits a pothole, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts. I press further back into the trunk, hoping to delay the inevitable when the time comes. Every muscle in my body is tense, like a coil ready to snap. I need to think. I need to plan. But there isn’t time. All I can hope is that Vitali finds me in time.
The car slows, the engine rumbling to a stop. My heart is a drum in my chest, pounding louder with every second. Doors creak open. Footsteps. Multiple pairs. The trunk pops opens and a figure looms above me, backlit by the harsh light spilling in from outside. I don’t recognize this one. Another thug. He reaches in, pulls me roughly from the trunk, and puts me on my feet, shoving me forward.
“Move,” he growls, his grip like iron on my arm. I stumble but don’t resist. The last thing I want to do is make him angry. The cold air hits me as I am hauled toward the warehouse that looms in front of me like a monster, an empty shell. Its windows are blacked out, the air thick with the smell of metal and oil. I can hear muffled voices—low and unfamiliar—coming from inside.
“Savia is already waiting with your new masters,” the thug mutters, his voice flat, almost bored.
New masters? My heart skips a beat, and for a moment, everything goes still. She is still planning on selling me? What does she have to gain or is this more about revenge? I want to scream, to shout, but no sound leaves my lips. I’m too petrified. If I’m sold, how far can Vitali track me?
Inside the warehouse, a shadow moves, and I see her. Vitali’s mother. She’s changed from the modest dress she wore when she hid amongst the crowd of onlookers like a coward. She is sporting a black suit with a pair of white heels. She stands there, her sharp eyes scanning me, her lips curling into a smile that makes my skin crawl.
“There she is,” she says with a cold, almost approving glance. “The perfect little pawn.”
She motions toward a man standing nearby—the buyer, I assume, from the way he is eyeing me like I am some kind of commodity.
The man steps forward, his voice holds a smooth Scottish lilt. “She’s more beautiful than the pictures, Savia.” He licks his lips as his gaze slides down my body. Gross. “Even if she isn’t a virgin anymore, the honor of owning the great De Luca wife will be enough to get over that. Tell me, how do you think she will look in a cage?”
Bile rises in my throat. I want to lash out, to throw something, anything. But the thugs are gripping my arms tightly, dragging me past the suited man begging for a taste, toward an isolated room at the back.
I have to move fast.
Scanning the area for anything useful, I spot a heavy crate near the corner, the edges sharp. The moment I’m close enough, I kick out with everything I have, hoping the noise might cover my next move. As the crate crashes to the floor, I lunge to the side, my foot sweeping across the dirt-streaked floor as I grab the lever—my last hope.
I yank it once more, desperate now. This time, there’s a satisfying click, a soft whirring sound. The door. It’s opening.
But I don’t have time to think.
I hear the thugs shouting, the sound of boots thundering behind me.
I run.
My feet pound against the cracked floor, the dim light flickering above me, casting eerie shadows along the walls. My heart races as I hear the thunderous footsteps behind me, closer now. Too close. I’m not fast enough.
A hand grabs my wrist, pulling me backward with terrifying force. I stumble, my legs almost buckling under me, but they’re too strong. The thug’s fingers dig into my skin, his grip unyielding as he drags me toward the back room.
“Thought you could escape, huh?” he sneers, his breath hot against my ear.
I try to twist away, to break free, but it’s useless. The other thug is already there, blocking my path, his eyes cold and calculating. In the blink of an eye, they’ve got me by both arms, shoving me through the door and into a small, dimly lit room.
The door slams shut behind us, and I’m alone.