Chapter 3
~Elle~
Despite my fear, exhaustion dragged me into sleep.
I wake as the van door jerks open, the handsome idiot who abducted me tugging me out.
Darkness still clings to the world. Ahead, a wooden cabin rises among the trees, its beauty unsettling in the silence.
The air is cold, the quiet suffocating—eerie in its perfection.
“Don’t even think about running. You’ll only get lost, and I won’t waste my time chasing you,” he warns with a sneer. Then, turning to the driver at his side, he orders, “Jimmy, put the van in the garage.” Jimmy gives a curt nod before slipping back into the vehicle to carry out the command.
The night air bites at my skin as he tightens his grip on my arm, steering me toward the cabin. His words echo in my head—Don’t try to run. You’ll only get lost. The sneer in his voice lingers, a cruel reminder that I’m not free.
Jimmy slips the van into gear, the rumble of the engine fading as he drives it toward the garage tucked beside the cabin. The crunch of gravel under the tires is the only sound in the silence, and it makes the place feel even more remote.
The cabin looms ahead, its wooden frame catching faint moonlight through the trees. It should look inviting, like a retreat, but instead it radiates menace. The windows are dark, the porch shadowed, and the forest presses in close, swallowing any sense of escape.
My captor walks with calm authority, as if this is routine for him. His hand never loosens, his stride never falters. I stumble once, my tote slipping against my hip, but he jerks me upright without a word.
The garage door creaks open, swallowing the van whole. Jimmy disappears inside, leaving me alone with the man who dragged me here. The silence stretches, broken only by the whisper of wind through the trees.
I’m ushered into the cabin, the front door opening onto a vast living space dominated by a stone fireplace.
The expensive décor lends the room an unsettling coziness.
I’m guided up the stairs to the right, down a corridor lined with closed doors, until we reach the last one.
I freeze. White tiled floors, cabinets lining the far wall, and in the center—a hospital bed.
The sterile atmosphere is jarring, more of an operating theatre than cabin retreat.
A tall man rises from the chair beside the bed, his sudden movement breaking the silence.
“What took you so long, Dante? The boss hasn’t woken up since we rescued him.”
My gaze shifts, and I see him—a large figure lying motionless on the bed, black hair damp with sweat clinging to his brow. His face is pale, bruised, and blood seeps into the bandage pressed against his shoulder.
My heart stutters. This isn’t just adrenaline. Even broken, he’s more compelling than the arrogant brute who kidnapped me. The resemblance between them is clear, but the blonde doesn’t stir me the way this man does.
“Oh my God! What did you do to him?” I rush to the bedside, staring down at the still figure.
“What are you talking about, woman? Are you daft? Why would I bring you here to help my brother if I were the one who hurt him? He was kidnapped!” His voice bristles with insult, but when he looks at the man on the bed, he softens.
“Okay,” I whisper, forcing myself to focus. “I’ll do what I can to help him. What’s his name?” “Dominic Vitelli,” Dante replies, pointing to the imposing figure. “My brother. And I’m Dante. This is Dario.”
I didn’t respond, too busy assessing my patient. Despite my conflicted reaction, my priority was clear: stop the bleeding. Leaning closer, I examined the wound. His shoulder was slick with blood, the edges ragged. My stomach tightened as I reached my conclusion.
He’s been stabbed.
“Let me wash my hands. I’ll start with his shoulder—I need to clean and suture the wound. You may have to restrain him if he wakes.”
I move quickly, rifling through the cabinets, surprised at how well stocked they are. Dante and Dario take their positions at Dominic’s sides, gripping his arms while I focus on the torn flesh.
The antiseptic stings the air as I work, needle and thread pulling skin together. Thankfully, he stays unconscious through the grueling procedure. By the time I’ve tended to the rest of his injuries, dawn is breaking, pale light spilling through the cabin windows.