Chapter Thirteen
Safia
The Past Returns
One vast showroom of polished wood, plush fabrics, and glimmering glass after another prove not to have what my uncle is looking for. On our third stop, I trail behind Uncle James as he studies a beautiful blue sofa with a deep sapphire hue.
“This would look perfect in Gabriella’s living room,” he says, finally finding his sofa match. He runs a hand over the supple leather, testing the firmness of the cushions.
I smile at his meticulous attention to detail; he’s always been the type to seek out the best, especially for those he loves.
“It’s gorgeous,” I agree, imagining the sofa in Gabriella’s sophisticated, art-filled space. “And it’s the exact shade to complement her Persian rug.”
Uncle James nods.
I take a step back to give him space and glance around, expecting to see Michael and Thomas, the ever-watchful shadows who accompany me everywhere. They’re usually no more than a few steps behind, silent sentinels who blend seamlessly into the background.
But they’re not here.
I scan the room, my gaze darting from one corner to the next. The store is unusually quiet, a stillness that prickles my senses. “Michael? Thomas?” I call out, trying to keep my voice casual.
There’s no response. Just the hushed whisper of air conditioning and the distant murmur of voices from the far end of the showroom.
“Uncle James,” I mutter, trying to capture his attention without causing a scene. “It looks like Michael and Thomas have gotten lost in the maze of wood and fabrics.” It’s a fleeting attempt at humor, but unease gnaws at me.
“Michael? Thomas? Are you guys pranking me?” I ask, still not willing to accept that things have gone awry.
Silently, my uncle takes my hand and guides us toward the side exit. We push past a sleek credenza and a glass-topped coffee table, peering down the long aisle lined with more lavish furniture pieces.
We round the corner leading to the exit, and the sight that greets us sends a jolt of icy fear through my veins. A salesman, a young man with a bright smile now slack and lifeless, is sprawled on the floor, a crimson pool spreading beneath him.
Panic seizes me, turning my limbs to lead. My heart pounds a frantic rhythm in my chest as I realize this is no prank. I spin around, my eyes searching desperately for Michael and Thomas, but all I see are more bodies—staff and shoppers alike—slumped over furniture or lying crumpled on the polished floors.
My breaths come in short, sharp gasps. The realization hits me like a sledgehammer. They’ve been shot. Silencers. I force myself to move, my feet stumbling over the luxurious carpet as I retrace my steps.
“Uncle James!” I shout, my voice cracking with desperation. “Uncle James, we need to get out of here!”
He had been leading our charge toward the door, but now he’s clutching his stomach, a dark stain spreading across his shirt. His eyes are wide with shock and pain as he sinks to his knees.
“Safia...” he gasps, his voice barely a whisper. “Run...”
“No!” I scream, dropping to my knees beside him. I press my hands to his wound, trying to staunch the bleeding, but it’s like trying to hold back a flood with my bare hands. “I’m not leaving you!”
His grip on my arm tightens, his eyes pleading with me to go. But I can’t move. I can’t leave him like this. He would never leave me like this.
A shadow falls over us, and I look up to see men—faceless figures dressed in black, their eyes hidden behind sunglasses, their guns equipped with silencers. The realization crashes over me like a tidal wave. We’re under attack. They’re here for us.
“Get her,” one of the men barks, his voice cold and devoid of emotion.
I don’t have time to react before I’m yanked to my feet, strong hands gripping my arms. I struggle, kicking and twisting, but it’s no use. They’re too strong, too prepared.
“Let me go!” I scream, my voice echoing through the cavernous showroom. But no one is left to hear me. The store is a slaughterhouse, the elegant furniture now a backdrop to a scene of utter horror.
It takes more than one of them to do it, but they drag me towards the exit, my feet barely touching the ground. I catch a glimpse of Uncle James, his face twisted in pain, before he disappears from view. My driver is also lying against the steering wheel lifeless. I bite back a sob, the taste of fear and helplessness bitter on my tongue.
The black SUV with midnight dark tinted windows looms ahead, its dark windows like the eyes of a predator waiting to swallow me whole. They shove me inside and slam the door shut with a final, ominous thud.
I’m plunged into darkness, the silence suffocating. The engine roars to life, and the vehicle lurches forward, carrying me away from the carnage and into an uncertain, terrifying future.
We ride until the SUV bumps and jolts over rough terrain. The black windows around me seal off any view of the outside world. I have been bound by my wrists, the rope cutting into my skin with each jolt of the vehicle. My heart pounds a frantic rhythm in my chest as the reality of my situation sinks in. I’ve been kidnapped by monsters, and I have no idea where they’re taking me.
The driver’s voice is a murmur, indistinct through the thick partition separating us. I strain to hear, catching only snippets—names, plans, my future laid out like a chessboard. My future. They think they own it, own me. My stomach churns with a mixture of fear and rage.
Finally, the SUV grinds to a halt. The door swings open, and I’m yanked out into the blinding light. Blinking against the harsh sun, I’m shoved forward, my feet stumbling over the gravel beneath me. The hands on my arms are firm, unyielding, and I’m dragged towards a large, warehouse. It looms ahead like a fortified beast.
Inside, the air is thick with the smell of oil and dust. The light filters in through windows high above, casting long shadows that stretch and twist across the floor. I’m shoved into a chair, my bonds cut just long enough for them to tie me to the chair instead. The ropes bite into my skin, but I barely feel it. My mind is racing. I search for a way out or a weakness to exploit.
Then, a tall, imposing, man appears. His sharp suit a stark contrast to the gloomy surroundings. His cold eyes lock onto mine, and a slow, predatory smile spreads across his face. My blood runs cold as he steps closer.
“Safia,” he says, his voice smooth and oily, like poison honey. “After all these years, my dear, you’re finally mine.”
I glare at him, refusing to show the fear that churns inside me. “I am not yours! What do you want?” I spit out, my voice trembling.
He chuckles, a low, mocking sound. “Straight to the point. I like that. It’s simple, really. I want you.”
“You’re insane,” I snap, struggling against the ropes. “I have no idea who you are, or why you brought me here.”
He shakes his head, stepping even closer, his gaze never leaving mine. “I don’t intend to hurt you, Safia. In fact, I’ve been waiting fourteen years for this moment. For us to be together as one.”
My skin crawls as understanding dawns on me. My parents died fourteen years ago.
The man moves so close to me that I can smell the faint scent of his cologne, feel the heat of his breath. “You’re delusional,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’ll never be with you.”
“Oh, but you will,” he murmurs, reaching out to stroke my cheek. I flinch away, but he grabs my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “You are to be my wife. My soulmate. Because, you see, my heart beats for money. And you, my dear, are worth billions.”
I freeze. “What are you talking about?” I ask, feigning ignorance to the fortune my father supposedly left. The fortune that I dare not touch because it was the reason my family was no longer here. I found out as much when Marcello discovered the Grecozi crime family was after me last Christmas.
His smile widens, a snake’s grin. “You see, my dear. Your father was a very smart man. Made some very shrewd investments. And since he wouldn’t sign them over to me while he was alive, I’ll take them from you, his heir.”
“Investments?” I manage to ask, my voice barely a whisper.
“Yes,” he says, releasing my chin and pacing around me. “A million dollars into a crypto stock when it was worth only a penny a share. Now, it’s worth forty dollars a share. Do the math, Safia.”
My mind stumbles over the numbers. I had heard stories about the amount of money people speculated my father had in investments. But four billion dollars? I’m set to inherit four billion dollars? The shock hits me like a physical blow, knocking the breath from my lungs.
“And I could kill you the same way I took out your family,” the man continues, his voice casual, as if discussing the weather. “But then I’d never get my hands on that money.”
I stare at him, my heart hammering in my chest. This is why he killed my family? For my father’s investment? Anger surges through me, hot and fierce. He steps closer, and I do the only thing I can think of. I spit in his face.
His eyes darken with rage, but he wipes the spit away with his finger. He then brings that finger to his lips to taste my spit. “Tasty. You have spirit,” he says, almost admiringly. “But it won’t save you.”
“You killed them,” I hiss, my voice trembling with fury. “For money. You killed my family for money.”
“Yes,” he replies, his tone devoid of remorse. “And now, you’ll give me what I want.”
I want to scream, to lash out, to tear him apart with my bare hands. But I’m bound, helpless, forced to listen to this monster who has ripped my world apart. My father’s face flashes in my mind, his smile, his strength. Would he think it was worth it? All this death, this suffering, for a fortune?
“I hate you,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “I’ll never give you what you want.”
He leans in close, his breath hot against my ear. “You will, Safia. You will become a Grecozi queen. Because you have no choice. You will live here in this warehouse, right here in this chair, where you will be tortured every day until you are ready to submit to my will. Or you will come home with me of your own will and take your place as my bride. Your choice.”
His words sink into me like a blade, cold and sharp. My world narrows to this moment, this man, and his demands. But deep inside, I know I will never submit to him. I will never let him win. I can’t. I’ll fight with everything I have, even if it costs me my life.
My mind races with desperate plans and half-formed ideas. I can’t let him take my father’s legacy. I can’t let him turn me into a pawn in his game. I have to find a way out, a way to make him pay.