Chapter 35 Sera
SERA
The trip across the lake is a blur of snow and soaked skin. By the time the dinghy gets to the yacht, both of us are wet through.
It doesn’t get better on board. We join one more of Renzo’s guys. Neither offers me a towel. The one from the dinghy gives me a rough shove until I’m sitting on the deck, huddled into my wet coat and trying not to freeze to death.
I could be warm, in bed, with Alik. I bury the thought before it can bob too long on the surface. I can’t think about that right now. Can’t think about him, either. I picked my battle, now I have to fight it. For us both.
I need to focus.
I need to survive.
I lose all sense of time. We reach the dock. I have no idea how long we’ve been in the boat or where we are, only that we’re nowhere near the city. The dock is meagerly lit, the two men cursing and complaining as they maneuver the boat into the slip.
“You. Out,” the second one says as he cuts the engine.
The first guy has already hauled me upright.
My feet are nothing but pins and needles.
Every step is painful, but I make myself move.
There’s no way I’m asking either of these two for help.
By the time I’m off the boat and up the dock, I’ve gained back some feeling.
Enough that I can walk toward Renzo di Salvo without tripping and falling flat on my face.
Renzo’s men flank me as we join him next to an oversized black Mercedes sedan. His greeting is one hundred percent on brand. “You look like shit.”
“Seasick,” I say. “Your men are shitty sailors.”
Renzo eyes the goons on either side of me. “Did they touch you?”
“Only to take my gun away.”
Renzo’s tight-lipped smile returns, as ugly as ever in the glow of the car’s headlights. “Good.”
Before I’m able to process what’s happening, Renzo pulls out his weapon and shoots both men. Each drop after a single bullet to the head, the rapport of the shots muffled by the dense snowfall.
I bite the inside of my mouth to stop from screaming. “Why kill them?”
“The Albanian hates witnesses. And given the fucked-up situation I find myself in with him, the Albanian gets what the Albanian wants.”
“But they were your men.”
“Save your indignation for someone who gives a fuck. You already know it isn’t me.” Renzo turns toward the car. “When will you learn, Princess? Loyalty means nothing in this world. Only money. Speaking of…” He opens the rear door on the driver’s side. “Time to take care of business.”
I don’t have a chance to hesitate. Renzo grabs my upper arm and manhandles me into the car. Hot air envelopes me, along with an overwhelming amount of cologne.
The source of the smell is studying me from the other side of the back seat.
Dark hair clipped close to the scalp, long legs spread to claim as much room as possible, the sick gleam in his eyes at odds with his boyish features.
If someone didn’t know Burim Shkodra was a deranged psychopath, they might actually think he’s cute.
“The famous Serafina,” he says, voice rumbling and thick in the small space. “We meet at last.”
The man to blame for this meeting pushes in from behind, forcing me into the middle of the seat and even closer to the predator sizing me up. Renzo closes the door and I’m caged. The claustrophobia is instant. I lurch for the door’s handle, every survival instinct telling me to run.
It’s the worse move I can make.
That one tiny act of defiance wets Shkodra’s perverse appetite. He doesn’t like his girls meek and mild. He likes when they defy orders. When they fight back.
He blankets my upper thighs with one giant hand, and I know I should’ve just kept still. Fuck.
“You’re very wet, lepurush. We need to get you out of these clothes.” His fingers flex with excitement. I stare blindly, stomach roiling.
“Not so fast, Burim.” Renzo pushes Shkodra’s hand off me. “Not until the deal is complete.”
I feel the Albanian’s attention linger on my face before he directs it at my father. “What deal is that, Renzo?” He spits out the name like it leaves a foul taste in his mouth. “You’re the one who fucked up. You’re the one who owes me. Not the other way around.”
“I didn’t do anything, you sick bastard. That was Martina. She made the mess. I’m just cleaning it up.” Renzo can barely keep his irritation in check.
“A long time after the fact.” The Albanian is completely at ease. He’s the one with the power in this relationship and that must be killing di Salvo. “It’s been a long time since the beautiful Katerina. You’ve accrued interest.”
I do everything possible not to react when he says Rina’s name. It’s the confirmation Alik and I need.
These men had Alik’s sister. And my mother killed her.
Learning the truth is only a fleeting success. The men on either side of me are waging a war and I’m very literally in the middle of it.
“You get her,” Renzo is saying, jabbing me in the back.
“She’s everything that you want, and I’m turning her over to you.
I’ve waived Pagano’s fee in acknowledgment of his fuck-ups.
We’ve skipped the song and dance of the auction.
You get a new plaything, no one else gets to eye fuck her on stage, and you forgo the inevitable bidding war.
Anything beyond that is just fucking greedy. ”
The Albanian makes a non-committal sound as he gestures to the driver. Renzo grabs at the door handle, but it’s locked. If he was planning to toss me to the Albanian and make a run for it, he’s shit out of luck.
We head away from the dock. The rear windows are tinted and impossible to see out of at this time of night, but not even a glimpse out the front gives a hint to where we’re going. The view is nothing but snow-covered trees. We’re in the middle of nowhere.
I shiver and instantly regret it. Shkodra shifts his attention back to me. “You’re cold. Take those things off.” He pulls at my coat in emphasis.
I want to say no but bite my tongue when I remember how much he loves a fight. I swear I see his shoulders fall when I comply. I strip off my coat and sweater, dumping the sodden fabric on the floor of the car.
“Keep going,” he says, gesturing at my t-shirt.
Don’t fight, Sera. Not yet. With the t-shirt gone I’m left in nothing but a bra and my jeans, my slippers long gone. Sitting down like this, my phone presses into my ass and I wonder how much longer it will be before anyone realizes I have it.
Shkodra isn’t interested in me getting completely naked, however. Instead, he eyes my chest and pulls what looks like a mini flashlight from the seat pocket in front of him, sweeping it over my skin. When he finds the tattoo his eyes light up like a kid in a toy store.
A really twisted kid in a really fucked-up store.
“I’ll confess, di Salvo, I’m amazed you marked your own daughter.” Shkodra presses his thumb against my chest, right where the numbers are. “Amazed and thoroughly delighted.”
“I’ll pass the compliment on to Martina.” Renzo sounds even more disgruntled. “I never saw the point.”
“Now that tracks.” The Albanian keeps his eyes glued to my chest. “Integrity has no value to you.”
Renzo laughs. Actually laughs. “I’m in the business of making money, you asshole. Integrity is the furthest thing from my mind.”
The Albanian shifts in his seat, pressing his thumb into me even harder. His expression is relaxed but I can tell he’s analyzing every visible inch of me, like he’s looking for something. “And what about transparency with your customers? How do you feel about that?”
The entire mood of the car shifts, a new tension developing between the two men. There’s a fresh edge to Renzo’s voice when he says, “If you’re trying to say something, just say it. Insult me to my fucking face.”
“Who said anything about insults?” Shkodra leans back into his seat, dropping his hands to his lap. “I’m far more interested in the truth.”
“Vaffanculo. For fucks’ sake!” Renzo strains forward, practically pushing against the back of the driver’s seat as he glares around me at the other man.
I’ve never seen him so emotional in my life.
“What is this? Stop with the banter, Burim. We’re not on some date, trying to fuck.
You have what you want.” Renzo stabs a finger into my back almost pushing me into the other man’s lap.
“She’s exactly what you ordered, minus the looks.
She’s defiant and disobedient and hasn’t followed one fucking instruction her entire life.
And she’s as mafioso as they come. I’m late in getting her to you, I know, but you have her.
Now it’s time for you to fuck off to wherever it is you crawled out from and take her with you.
Break her, beat her. Kill her for all I care.
Just consider our business done and leave. ”
Renzo’s words ring in my ears. I knew I meant nothing to him. I’ve known it for a long time. But hearing him explicitly describe just how disposable I am is a blow I’m not braced for.
Just like I’m sure Renzo’s not prepared for Shkodra to lurch forward and stab him in the stomach.
The Albanian doesn’t give any warning. He barely makes a sound.
I’m sitting next to the man, our legs touching, and I don’t even realize he’s moved until Renzo is convulsing and gurgling up blood, the hilt of a knife protruding from his stomach.
The smell of blood fills the car, making the air almost unbreathable. I try to shrink back into the seat, making myself as small as possible, but Renzo won’t leave me alone, even now.
Eyes bugged, he stares at me, grabbing at me with one blood-covered hand as he blabbers something in Italian. A plea for help.
As if.
He’s delusional, even at the point of death.
The Albanian, on the other hand, seems vaguely amused by Renzo’s agony. That twinkle in his eye has brightened, even though his next words come out low and harsh. “You forgot one thing on my list, di Salvo. She’s not a virgin.”