Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Lily
From bright sunlight to utter darkness, my body is swallowed by a force ripping me off my feet.
Before I can process what’s happening, I feel my body briefly suspended in the air and then hitting something solid.
I hear a door shut and a pair of hands grabs my wrists, binding them together with something thick and prickly.
“Listen closely,” a deep, menacing voice booms, slicing through the darkness. “I’m under strict orders to bring you in. So, you’d best behave.” The threat lingers in the air like smoke.
“Do you know who I am?!” I spit out, trying to get free. “You’re making a BIG mistake.”
“Oh, we know who you are. Just sit tight and you won’t get any bruises.”
With a sarcastic laugh, I say, “I’m not worried about bruises nearly as much as you should be when my family comes to find me.”
“The boss isn’t afraid.” He gives a dark laugh before continuing, “The real question is, will they come find you in time?”
His confidence strikes a nerve and I am beginning to panic but remain still.
They can’t know I’m scared, stuck in this van smelling of cheap, musky cologne.
Why would they want me? Who would want me?
Sure, I’m tied to the Costello Family, but I shouldn’t be considered valuable enough to kidnap.
My mind races with possibilities and the odds of being a target, but none seem logical enough to pursue.
“The Costello family is the least of your worries,” I warn, my voice low and steady, my eyes narrowing as I lean slightly forward, trying to convey the seriousness of my words.
“The real threats are my sisters.” I let a mocking smile flicker across my lips, but my posture remains tense, fists clenched at my sides.
“We are banking on them showing up to save you. After all, you’re our bait,” one of them replies, his tone dripping with arrogance. He leans in with arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips as if he finds the whole situation amusing. “The Andretti sisters will bow on their knees.”
“Who would be stupid enough to believe that?” I shoot back, raising an eyebrow and tilting my head slightly, the mockery evident in my tone. I can feel my heart racing, but I refuse to let them see my fear.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” another male voice interjects, just as the engine roars to life, drowning out my thoughts. I can see him leaning back in his seat, a confident grin stretching across his face, as if he believes he has already won.
“Can’t wait to tell the moron myself how stupid they are,” I bark out, my words sharp and defiant as I straighten my back and square my shoulders, trying to project strength even in a vulnerable moment.
My jaw tightens, and I feel a surge of adrenaline coursing through me, ready to fight back against whatever they have planned.
“Careful, darling. He’ll make you eat your words,” the other hisses, his hot breath ghosting across my cheek, clammy fingers sliding up my thigh.
A wave of revulsion crashes over me, sending my stomach plummeting.
I clamp my jaw tight, trying not to gag at the smell of the van.
A tear escapes, tracing a path down my cheek, threatening to ruin my makeup.
Will anyone notice I’m missing? I swallow hard, forcing myself to breathe past the lump in my throat and the tightness in my chest. There has to be some way out of this.
I just have to figure out how. All these years of Pilates are going to be a true test of my strength.
Kicking out my leg, my foot thumps onto the man’s chest, thrusting him as far as I can.
“You fucking bitch,” he groans. His hand finds my neck and his grip tightens around my throat.
Dad had taught my sisters and me how to fight, but in the heat of the moment, my mind goes blank.
I never thought those lessons would become a matter of life and death.
He always insisted he wanted to shield us from this life, to keep his daughters far removed from the chaos of our family’s legacy.
But it’s hard to escape when you’re a capo’s daughter, especially now that the blood stains still linger from the war that claimed him.
“Boss said no bruises!” The man driving growls.
Being part of a mob family doesn’t mean you are safe.
Criminals still have enemies and they usually are other criminals.
Who would want me, though? Before Alessio became head of the family, there was Sal—Selene’s first husband.
Or worse, before Sal became head of the family, it was his uncle Matteo—a complete psychopath.
Between Matteo, his underboss Costa, and my father, who were known to be the backbone of the family’s success, were there enemies out there still trying to carry out some vendetta?
Or could it be Darius or Cameron who wronged someone, and since they can’t get to their woman, the next best thing is their sister-in-law?
My mouth runs dry as I lean back, the hard seat behind me, rope still biting into my wrists.
The van rattles as it slows. I strain my ears, desperate for any sound that might reveal our location.
Metal clanging, the eerie sound of a gate swinging open.
Closing my eyes, a couple more tears escape before I will them to stop. Crying isn’t going to do me any good.
“The boss has been waiting for his chance to get his hands on you,” one of the men hisses with malice close to my ear. “He’s a real monster. You thought your daddy was bad? Boss makes him look like a saint.”
Well, that at least solved one question. This has something to do with my father. Now the question is, who is it?
The door to the van seems to open, and a flood of air is thick and rancid, people shouting to each other, though I can’t make out anything that is being said. More metal banging on metal, and it sounds like some sort of machinery is working in the background.
I have to be at the docks.
“I hear you like boats. Just pretend you’re partying on the Mediterranean in a little bikini,” one of the men sneers, his tone oozing sarcasm. “Luckily for you, we’re under strict orders not to touch you.”
I sit stiffly, determined not to show these bastards I’m terrified. My family will realize I’m missing at some point, and someone will come to find me. Let’s just hope it won’t take them too long to realize.
“Alright, princess, let’s get you ready.” Rough hands seize me, yanking me from the van.
I stumble, my knees scraping against the gritty cement, hot blood trickling down my skin as I choke back a scream. “Idiots!” I hiss through clenched teeth as they haul me upright.
“Watch where you’re walking,” one snarls, his fingers digging painfully into my skin as they drag me forward.
“It won’t look suspicious at all with a fucking hood over my head.” My tone is mocking, but I’m hoping they’ll remove the hood so that my face is visible to anyone standing by.
The dock workers know better than to watch someone drag another with a hood over their head, but if they see my face, maybe they’ll recognize who is being dragged away and call Darius or Cameron.
From the darkest shed to bright light as the hood is taken off my head, I’m finally able to breathe in the gust of fresher air that hits my face.
A small boat awaits us to board. As we get closer, my breathing gets heavier, and my legs begin to wobble as I notice no other people are on the dock.
Don’t get on that boat.
Why the hell am I letting them lead me so easily?
Why am I playing along with their sick game?
What if my family doesn’t find me? If I don’t save myself, I’m as good as dead.
I start to take a step back, my feet scraping against the concrete, but one of the men mutters something under his breath, while the other groans in irritation.
“You were being so good,” the man with the deeper voice says. “I don’t want to have to throw you over my shoulder and carry your ass up there, but if you’re going to make me do it, I’m not going to be held responsible for the places where my hand may slip, you understand?”
Ice floods my veins. It’s either walk onto that boat or be assaulted.
At this rate, it’s likely both might happen.
I grit my teeth, forcing myself to take a few more steps, bowing my head, shaking it slightly to see if there’s any way to break free and bolt.
I don’t care if I have to drown in the water.
Desperation claws at me as I twist my wrists against the rough fibers of the rope binding me, the coarse material biting deeper into my skin. I grit my teeth against the pain, hoping the blood will make my wrists slick enough to break free. If I can manage that, I can throw a punch.
Thumb on the outside, Lily. If you keep it on the inside, you’re going to break it, and then you’re going to be no use fighting. Get my wrists free. Punch the men straight in the nuts, run like hell. I could do that. I have to do that.
My wrists are bound too tightly, and it dawns on me that I’m fucked.