by Brook Wilder
“Tell me now. Where are we going?”
The laugh that comes from him is nothing like what I’ve heard from him before. It’s dark and makes the hair stand up on my arms. “Such a silly little girl you are, thinking you could ever find a way out of this life.”
Fear blooms inside me and I grip the door handle, making ready to throw it open if he slows down enough for me to jump out. I never thought to ask him where he was taking me. Stupid me assumed he was a friend. A true friend.
I never should’ve trusted him. Danya was right. He’s always right. What the hell did I just get myself into? I make everything worse. Why didn’t I just stay at the house? Danya’s cold words come back to me, but everything he said before that is true. All this time he’s only done what he can to keep me safe in a world full of enemies. And I went and landed my ass in trouble. Again. Danya won’t know who I’m with or where I’m going. I bite back a curse as I realize just how serious this situation is. It’s not just myself I’ve put at risk but the baby.
“What do you want, huh?” I ask, hating how shaky my voice is.
“That is none of your business. Thank you for making this so easy, though. Saves me from having to find a way to get you out of that damn mansion. Dangle a carrot, and the rabbit will go for it. Weak, sad little rabbit,” he replies, then starts to hum. The Jack Bennet I met, the one I admired for his journalism, is no longer here. If this is who he really is, how has no one else seen this dark side of him? If I think about it, how he’s managed to take down so many corrupt politicians and other Mafia families begins to make sense. Where he gets his intel. He’s not working for himself.
He’s working for the fucking families.
The humming grows louder as if he’s trying to unnerve me. It’s creepy, and I decide now’s the only chance I’m going to get to escape. I tug on the door handle, but it’s locked. I scramble to unlock it as he shouts at me to knock it off. He swerves down the street as he reaches over and tries to grab my hands. I bite his forearm and he yelps. I go for the door again, but then his hand is wound in my hair and he yanks my head back.
“Stupid bitch,” he snaps, then slams my head forward into the dash. I gasp at the swell of pain and fight to stay conscious, but he does it again, and everything goes dark.
Chapter 19
Stella
“I am impressed,” a familiar voice says close by, but my mind’s too fuzzy to place it. “How’d you do it?”
“Persuasion.”
That voice belongs to Jack. I try to open my eyes, but they won’t listen to me. My head’s throbbing and my face stings. There’s something rough around my wrists and ankles. I’m sitting upright on a chair, a chair that I’m tied to. Great, as if this night couldn’t get any worse.
“Think she’s waking up,” the first voice says. “Stella? Open your eyes, dear.”
“Fuck off,” I mutter, then gasp when a hand slaps me so hard the chair nearly topples over. My eyes fly open to find Jack standing beside Francesco De Luca. Behind them are several of the bastard’s goons. We’re in a study of some kind. There’s a fireplace and a desk, shelves on the walls, and plush carpet beneath my bare feet. They took my damn shoes. Who does that? I glare from Francesco, as he shakes out his hand, to a leering Jack. “Him? Really?”
“You can drop the tough act, sweetheart. No one’s buying it,” Jack says with a wink.
“I’m not afraid of either of you,” I add as I glower right back at Francesco. “Why are you with him?”
Jack shrugs. “I have my reasons.”
“I thought you wanted to bring down the families,” I mutter as I tug on my wrists to see how loose the knots are. Sadly, there’s no wiggle room at all. “Guess they corrupted you too. Tell me, how long have you been playing their bitch?”
The hit catches me off guard and sends my head flying to the side. The backhand is enough to make me dizzy and splits my lip. The copper taste of my blood makes me livid and I open my mouth to yell at Jack when he hits me again, harder. He grabs a handful of my hair next and forces my head back. He runs his fingers along my cheek then clicks his tongue like he’s scolding a child. My fingernails dig into the arm of the chair, desperate to hang onto something. I’ll get out of this mess. I always do.
“You of all people should know the crazy things we do for those we love,” he whispers, and I frown. He’s doing this shit for love? It can’t be one of Francesco’s daughters, can it? “Look where you are now because you were stupid enough to trust a stranger.”
“Get your fucking hands off me,” I snap, then gag when his hand wraps around my throat. He squeezes and my eyes bulge. I fight to get free of him and the chair, but there’s no escape.
“Jack, I need her alive,” Francesco says as he calmly picks his nails. “At least for a little while.”
“Yes, you’re right. Apologies.” Jack lets me go and I suck in a breath. His hand remains in my hair and I glare up at him as he twists that hand. I bite back a stream of curses as he kisses my cheek like we’re old friends. A tingle of terror rushes through me and I will my imagination to not run away with me regarding what these men might do to me. “Be seeing you soon, sweets.”
Then Jack lets my head go. He and Francesco step to the door, talking too quietly for me to hear. I tilt my head, straining to pick up anything to give me an idea of why the famed journalist would be with Francesco. But then they’re shaking hands.
“Be sure to deliver the good news to your lover.”
“I will, don’t you worry. He’ll be most excited to know we can move up our plans.”
I frown. He? Damn, so much for him being in love with Francesco’s daughters. I attempt to figure out who he might be involved with, but the budding headache behind my eyes makes it hard to focus. Jack winks once more at me, taps his head in salute, then he’s gone, leaving me alone with Francesco and four very large, very brutish-looking men. Danya told me time and again I’m strong. I sure as hell don’t feel strong right now. I feel like I’m going to be sick.
Francesco closes the door behind Jack then turns to face me. He slips his hands in the pockets of his slacks and gives me a smile that would’ve been kind on any other man’s face.
Not his.
“Jack was a bit overzealous,” he says as he strolls toward me. “I apologize for him, but there are certain parts of our plan that have been in motion for quite some time.”
“Yeah? Like killing Mikhail?” I’m half guessing, hoping to throw him off. All he does is smile wider.
“Yes, well, he planned to kill me. I simply had the right allies, whereas he was living with traitors.” He sighs then makes for a drink cart on the other side of the room. “Care for a drink?”
“I don’t know anything if that’s what you’re after.”
“That I seriously doubt. You certain you don’t want a drink? Might help with the nerves.”
He laughs quietly as he fills a tumbler with amber liquor then swirls it around. If I wasn’t pregnant, I’d be asking him for the whole damn bottle. I say nothing instead and he sips on his drink as he returns to me.
“Now, your visit with me can go one of two ways. You can answer my questions and I’ll ensure you are found by the right people. Or, you can be difficult and well, let’s just say Danya might find your body left on his front porch.” He takes another sip as the blood drains from my face and my whole body grows cold. “Don’t take too long to decide, my dear. I don’t have all night.”
“Why would I answer anything for you?”
“I thought that would be obvious.”
“How long have you been working with the twins? How can you trust them?” I demand, trying to cover up my own nervousness. “They’ll try to kill you one day. You know that, right?”
“In this life, everyone tries to kill everyone else. It’s a risk you just have to learn to accept. I am well aware of their intention to double-cross me, don’t you worry about that.”
I shake my head and study the carpet benea
th my feet. “I’m not telling you shit because I don’t know shit. You might as well just let me go now.”
“Afraid I can’t do that. Even if you don’t give me anything useful, you will bring Danya to me. Removing him from the board earlier will ensure our plan succeeds.”
I lift my gaze, stare into his eyes, then burst out laughing. “Yeah, I wouldn’t be too certain about that. Danya and I aren’t exactly getting on. He’s probably thrilled to know I’m no longer his problem.”
Francesco finishes his drink then hands the glass off to a man behind him. “We’ll just have to wait and see. I believe if I send him a few photographs of your beaten face, he might come running right into my trap.”
I grit my teeth and steel my nerves. I dealt with an abusive father for years. I can deal with Francesco. “Fuck you.”
He rubs his forehead as he nods. He turns like he’s going to leave then whirls around and his fist collides with my face. I grunt at the hit, seeing stars. A second hit nearly knocks me unconscious. His fingers dig into my shoulder as he lowers himself down to my eye level.
“What is Danya’s plan to stop the legislation?” he asks.
I only know the little bit Danya told me, which was finding a way to prove his brothers were behind Mikhail’s death and pushing these new regulations through. He had no solid evidence last time he shared anything with me and, therefore, no real plan except to stop the twins from gaining control of the family.
I spit in Francesco’s face in answer. He wipes the spittle from his cheek as his eyes turn cold as ice. He releases my shoulder only to backhand me so hard the chair topples to the side. I grimace at the jarring pain in my shoulders.
“Get her up,” Francesco orders, and the men do as he says. “What is Danya’s plan with his brothers? How does he plan to wrest control from them? Because we both know he’ll never let them take control of Mikhail’s business.”
I shake my head, but all that does is make me even dizzier. “I don’t know.”
“Lies. Danya treats you as his equal; everyone knows it. Tell me what his plans are.”
I lean as far as the ropes will allow, then grin, not sure if it’s bravery making me do it or too many hits to the head. “How about you go suck on Andrei’s cock, hmm? You’re already getting in bed with them. Hell, bring your daughters. Then you can have a real good fuck party.”
I never realized how many shades of red a man’s face could turn until that moment. Francesco’s eye twitches as his fists ball up at his sides. If only Danya could see me now, digging myself into an even deeper hole. I fell in love with a man others feared, but not me. I always hoped I’d rub off on him a little bit and bring back the man I knew he could be. Now I hope he’s rubbed off on me enough to survive the night.
“I could’ve been your friend, Stella,” Francesco says, voice strained with his fury. “We could have possibly come to some sort of agreement much as I have with Jack and the twins.”
“Like what?” I ask, then start to laugh. “We all know how you treat the women in your life. Didn’t you kill your last wife?”
He wraps his hands around my throat as I fight to get air. “It was a tragic accident.”
“Right,” I gasp. “Fucking bastard.”
He releases me with a yell then punches me again. My head falls back and I don’t try to lift it. If I think hard enough, I can see Danya here with me, feel his hand cupping my cheek. The notion that I’m probably going to die here makes angry tears burn in my eyes, but I’m not going to let them fall. Not in front of this fucker. I’m the wife of Danya Ivanov. The daughter of Joseph Russo. This asshole might steal my life, but I’m not going down crying and begging. I won’t do it. Everything else has been taken from me. They won’t take what little dignity I have left.
Francesco forces my head upright and then someone snaps pictures of me. I lunge forward as much as I can in the chair and scream like a madwoman. Part of me wishes Danya would come bursting through the door at any second and save me. The other part wonders if it is truly over between us. His life will be easier without me, but the baby. I can’t let them kill our baby.
“Shut up,” Francesco snaps and aims a pistol at my face. I freeze as his eye twitches more. “You are a nightmare. No wonder your father had so much trouble with you. If only you’d been a boy, we might’ve avoided this whole situation.”
I yank on my wrists again, the ropes cutting into my skin, but the knots keep holding strong. Francesco rolls up the sleeves on his dress shirt and comes closer.
“Now, let’s try this again. What are Danya’s plans?”
I debate my next move. If I buy time, there’s a chance Danya will make it here before I’m nothing but a lifeless corpse. If I give in and tell Francesco what he wants to know, he’ll kill me sooner. I’m not that much of a fool to believe his promise of letting me live. My head is too fuzzy to think too hard on what I should do. Staying alive is the goal. I have to stay alive.
I look up at Francesco and smile through the pain and the blood. “Think he’s planning a party to celebrate you all dying.” He slaps me, but I force a laugh and he slaps me again. “You never should’ve touched me. He’s going to rip your heart out. He’s going to kill you all.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah, yeah, it is. Did you forget who he is?”
A tiny sliver of doubt creeps into Francesco’s eyes, but then he’s grinning right back at me. “Danya will break one way or another, as will you. I think we should take a little walk. Might help clear your head.”
Two of the goons untie my wrists and ankles. The second I’m free, I bolt for the door and run right into the solid chest of a guard. He grabs my shoulders and holds me there until Francesco takes my arm. The barrel of his pistol digs into my ribs and I stiffen.
“Walk, now.”
My knees are shaky, but I manage to stay upright. My world has been turned upside down more than once tonight. I don’t think I can take much more. The man I thought I could trust turned out to be a villain and the man I should’ve trusted without question, I’ll probably never see again. I thought I could get Danya and me out of this life for good, but he was right. It’ll just keep sucking us back in until we’re dead. There’s no more denying how I feel for Danya. I love him despite what he said to me. We’ve both been so busy trying to protect each other, we never stopped to really talk to each other or believe in the strength that comes from our love. A love that we’ve spent years building.
A love that created a life we are both willing to do anything to protect.
I don’t want to love Danya, but I don’t have a choice. He’s my heart, and I’m his. I just hope it isn’t too late for us both, but sadly, I think it is.
“Stop,” Francesco says and jerks me to a halt beside him.
I stare around, confused, then he opens a door to the right. A set of narrow stairs leads down into darkness. It’s like a yawning mouth of evil ready to devour me whole. Panic kick-starts my survival instincts and I scream, fighting against Francesco despite the gun in his hands. I break away from him and make a mad dash away from that horrible place. I spy a door and pray it leads out. Shots ring out around me, but I don’t stop. I get my hands on the knob when another gunshot explodes, and I scream as a bullet strikes my calf. I sprawl on the floor then keep crawling. A set of thick legs walks into view and a boot collides with my face.
“No,” I mumble as I’m dragged by my ankles back through Francesco’s home to the open door. “No, please.”
“Some time down there will give you time to think,” Francesco tells me.
“Don’t do this,” I mutter, my plan of not begging going to shit. “Please.”
He crouches in front of me and tilts my face up with the barrel of his gun. It burns my skin and I bite my tongue to stop from shrieking in pain. Tears slide down my cheeks, but I can’t get my hands free to wipe them away.
“Should I give you some company down there?” he asks with a cruel twist of his lips. “The b
oys here would all love to have a go at the Russo slut. If your tongue doesn’t loosen soon enough, we’ll really get to see what you’re made of, huh?”
The men around him cackle, and my stomach churns at their hungry gazes. I wait to vomit on their boots, but then Francesco moves. I’m dragged to the top of the stairs and kicked in the back. I roll down the stairs, throwing my hands out to try and stop myself, but it’s no use. I crash to the cement floor and crash into a support post. A door slams shut at the top of the stairs and I’m left in almost complete darkness. A tiny lamp lights up the far corner. There’s a chair and a cot, but I can’t bring myself to move.
I wrap my arms around my stomach and cry. The baby. I have no way to know if the baby’s all right or not. This is all my fault. All of it. I should’ve done everything I could to support Danya and be there with him. If I’d stopped for five seconds and just trusted him as he did me, I wouldn’t be here right now. He wouldn’t have felt the need to place me under house arrest just to keep me alive. I’ve been so blinded by my need to get revenge against the families, I never stopped to think about what cost I’d be paying. Or Danya would be. I’m just a fucking hypocrite.