CHAPTER THREE #2
I pull the plank away and lean it against the wall to my left, then move on to start another.
I don’t know where I am, or what waits on the other side of this cottage, but the alternative is far worse…
that much is certain. The fact that Nico had a hand in bringing me here proves that I can no longer trust anyone who works for my father, and I can no longer cling to the hope that someone will come looking for me.
That’s what hurts the most.
Knowing that when I finally escape, I can’t risk the call to home.
Who knows what story Nico has spun to hide the truth of my capture?
As much as I want to believe my father would see right through any lies, I know his instincts are dulled now.
Distracted and misled with his new wife around.
I never thought someone close to me could betray me so easily.
Blood trickles from my fingertips, leaving crimson prints everywhere, and I wipe my hands on my bloodstained dress to hide any evidence of what I’m doing behind me.
The sudden jingling of keys slices through the quiet, and my heart slams against my ribs.
My vision narrows, blurring at the edges, as low murmurs and heavy footsteps grow louder outside the door.
Panic rips through me, and my body seizes, but I dive for the plank.
My fingers fumble as I try to fit it back, praying it will hold.
There’s nothing I can do about the blood.
Don’t fall. Please, please don’t fall.
Once the plank is as secure as I’m going to make it, I move.
The chain scraping against the hardwood behind me is an afterthought, as I huddle into the corner furthest from the door.
I wrap my arms around my legs, shielding myself.
I don’t want to feel their eyes on me like I did yesterday.
I choke back the need to cry out when the door flies open, crashing into the wall behind it, and terror immediately radiates through me, but I force myself to breathe, recalling everything my father taught me, every lesson of composure in case something like this ever happened.
“Always stay calm, Ma Petite Oiselle.”
Little bird.
At first, the tall, looming figures say nothing.
They just stand there, breathing in the stillness as their eyes drink in every inch of my body, both in amusement and in hunger.
Circling their prize before finally, they strike, poisoning it to silence.
Poisoning me to silence. The room feels tighter, their towering bodies threatening, and my skin burns beneath their wicked gaze.
I don’t look away. Instead, I narrow my eyes.
Not to challenge them, but to show them that I am every bit my father’s daughter, just as I was yesterday.
Then, one of them moves. His cold stare slides from me to the floor.
To the plank of wood lying there, knocked loose by the slam of the door. No.
“Oh, will you look at that, Dash? The princess thought she could run away on us,” the man taunts, crossing the threshold and walking over to the window, leaving Dash to stand alone in the doorway.
I don’t move. I don’t even think I’m breathing as Dash crosses the room and over to me, the floor creaking beneath his heavy weight.
All the blood drains from my face when he crouches before me, but I don’t blink, even if his closeness has the tiny hairs on the back of my neck standing on end.
I hold his murky green eyes, faintly swollen from when I slammed my forehead into his yesterday, and I couldn’t hide the crooked smile teasing the corner of my mouth if I tried.
Remember who you are, Winter.
Don’t let them break you.
I might not be as strong as they are, but still, I grew up in this world.
And in this world, when you are bitten, you bite back harder, no matter how much worse it will make things.
Now, with any hope of my escape gone, I’m certain they’ll add that to the already endless list of things to punish me for.
As if abducting me wasn’t punishment enough.
There’s no time to mourn my failures, because my life narrows to the simple, horrifying motion of Dash’s arm rising.
I brace myself for anything.
The back of his rough hand grazes my cheek, a stroke, deceptively gentle, that makes every nerve in my body recoil. My skin crawls. My limbs freeze. And all my focus, all my terror, is locked on that hand.
“You tryin’ to play games with us, princess?
” Dash murmurs, his thumb now ghosting over my cracked lips.
The movement causes a metallic taste to fill my mouth, and I realize it’s split from when he hauled me across the field and chained me inside this house.
His eyes drop from mine to the blood coating his skin, and the grin that stretches across his face causes my insides to turn in disgust.
“You got nothin’ to say, Delacour? You sure ran that pretty fucking mouth yesterday.
Come on, don’t get all shy on us now. We like that you have fire.
Makes breaking you all the more fun.” The other man chuckles low and dark, amusement lacing his husky tone.
He must have noticed my surprise at the mention of my last name because he tilts his head, smirking.
“Yeah, that’s right. We know who you are. Not that it matters anymore. Right, Dash?” the man says, walking closer to Dash, closer to me. Dash’s hand is still pressed to my cheek, and I fight the urge to vomit.
“Who you are and where you came from became insignificant the minute you arrived here,” Dash says, his voice controlled and menacing.
He leans in further, his eyes glinting, but there’s nothing warm about him.
“I wish I could see the look on Enzo’s face when he learns that his precious Winter is dead. ”
Dead.
The floor seems to fall away beneath me when he says my name, stripping away a layer of vulnerability I wasn’t expecting to feel.
They do know my father. I force my features to calm, not wanting to reveal any more weaknesses than I already have in front of them.
My hands clench into fists, desperate for something solid to hold onto amid the whirlwind of emotions threatening to consume me.
I barely feel the sting from my missing fingernails digging into my palms, because nothing hurts as much as my broken heart.
“He will shred you all to pieces,” I say calmly, forcing my voice steady despite how rattled I am by their closeness.
Dash’s hand freezes, eyes narrowing into slits as I keep going, because I am nothing if not a mouthy fool.
“You boys don’t stand a chance against a man like my father.
” I spit the words, tasting the lie like blood on my tongue.
I’m not certain my father will ever learn that I’ve been taken, and I can only hope he’s prepared, that he knows what he’s doing if anyone back home tries to overthrow him.
Because that’s what this is, isn’t it? They want what he has, what my family has held since moving to this country. Isn’t that always the way this goes?
The other man laughs, leaning back against the wall to my right, too relaxed for someone who just declared my impending death like it was nothing more than casual, schoolyard gossip.
“Enzo Delacour. The big, bad French Mafia Don that has everyone shaking in their boots. Trust me, when I say this, he’s not going to do shit.”
“You say that now while you still have a jugular," I taunt, because I am an idiot.
Dash stiffens, a muscle twitching in his jaw, though he says nothing.
Instead, he lets the silence stretch between us, thick and suffocating, and in his silence, I feel the cold, irrevocable truth. I am not leaving this place alive.
I am here.
And I am their prisoner.
They will break me in ways that make my own skin feel foreign. Stretch me thin until I no longer know who I am or where I came from.
This can’t be how it ends.
I make a silent vow to myself that I will play their game, but they will not break me.
And when the time comes that they try to break me, I will live.
I will take it all back. I will reclaim what they’ve taken from me, piece by broken piece.
They may own my body now, but they will never own my heart.
My spirit. The reckoning I’ll stitch together in the corners of my mind where they think I am powerless.
But I’m the opposite of powerless. With my mind, I’m unstoppable.
And if I die… If they kill me. I will burn their faces into my memory, a gallery of torment I will carry with me until I meet them all in Hell.