by Haley Stuart
As I make my way to his office, I look around me to see if there is anything out of place. Any indication that she is here.
The door to his office is cracked, and I step in. He is waiting for me, standing in front of his desk. A smile that doesn’t reach his eyes appear on his face.
“Hello, Mr. Pasquino. I see you still haven’t acquired any manners.”
I roll my eyes at his tone.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”
“I’m sure you’ve heard. My wife has been kidnapped.” I watch his reaction. He doesn’t even flinch. He clicks his tongue at me.
“You should be more cautious with your wife, Luca. You know this is a dangerous world we live in.” He has a look of amusement on his face. I want to punch him so bad.
“She was in that auction you were at about two months ago. Did you happen to see her? Or anyone that bought her?”
He cocks his eyebrow as if in thought. “No.”
I can feel my anger flaring at his blatant lie. I have to calm myself down. If I blow it, then Elise’s whereabouts will slip right through my fingers. I decide to bluff.
“Really? Well, we know you were one of the contenders of the private auction.”
He shrugs his shoulders. “So? Why don’t you go ask the other contenders? I wasn’t the only one there.”
I bite my jaw in irritation. “We are. I have my men at the others’ homes as we speak.”
He leans on the desk, crossing his arms. “Are you sure you can trust your family, Luca? I mean, it was your family that helped out that traitor Stefano almost kill you. Can’t say I’m not disappointed.” He smiles at me. If there is ever a time I keep my temper in check, now will be it. I have to keep reminding myself that this is for Elise. He gets a look in his eye as he senses my irritation.
“You know, now that I think of it, I did see your wife.” His smile grows wider as he speaks. “You should have seen her there. With that dark-red lingerie on. She did look good enough to fuck. I did try to buy her, but someone else paid a heavier price. Seems they wanted her even with your god-awful name carved into her milky flesh.”
He laughs, pushing himself off the table.
“Too bad I couldn’t get ahold of her. I would have enjoyed beating her within an inch of her life.”
I don’t even think; I am flying toward him. I love the feeling of my fist smashing into the side of his face. As he stumbles, I press my forearm into his throat and pull my gun out, pressing the steel against his forehead, the rage I have been fighting so hard to keep contained blowing up.
“If I fucking find out you had anything to do with her being taken away from me, I will fucking find you and kill you in the worst way possible.”
His eyes flash beyond my shoulder toward the ground and back up to mine, a cruel smile creeping onto his face. “Well, let’s hope you find her before anything bad happens.”
There is blood coming out of his mouth, and I can see a bruise already forming on his cheek where I’ve punched him. I glare at him one more second before pushing off him roughly and walking to exit the room. I keep looking for any signs or clues, but nothing stands out.
I yank the door, and it slams behind me as I leave the office. Then I hear a banging. Just three hard hits that come from within the office. They sound muffled through the door. I turn around and stare at the door. He must be angry from me attacking him and hitting his desk or wall out of frustration. As quickly as it starts, the sound stops. I walk past the dining room, remembering my way out. I glance in there as I see a body moving. It is the maid. She is clearing the plates from the table. As in two plates. Hmmm.
I open the door, stepping out into the cold. The fucking bastard lives up in the mountains, away from everyone. So if there is something he is hiding, he is in the perfect place for it. I step into my car, driving away. I have a feeling he is hiding something. Pretty soon I will have to leave this search to my men, because I have to resume my duties as capo. That is the last thing I want to do. I have to find Elise.
Chapter 39
Elise
Bang bang bang.
“Luca, please!” I am shouting in desperation and pain.
My hand is bloodied and filled with splinters. It is also throbbing in unbearable pain. I am pretty sure the bone is chipped or something. I slam the wood against the ceiling above my head. I can only pray that Luca can hear me. The hatch to the trapdoor opens quickly, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Which immediately turns into fear. Alexander opens the hatch. He looks at the missing step and at me in irritation. I then notice there is a bruise forming on his cheek.
“You almost had him.” He smiles at me. He steps down into the room, and when he gets close to me, he yanks the plank out of my hand. He looks ready to throw it, but then he pauses as he looks at it and gets an idea. His gaze travels down my body to my hand.
“Wow, you went through a lot of trouble to get this done, didn’t you?” He laughs at my predicament.
Tears of frustration fill my eyes, and I look back at him with hate in my gaze.
“Luca is going to find out you kept me hidden here, and he’s going to kill you slowly, and painfully.”
He looks at me for a moment before rubbing his jaw.
“Funny, your husband said the same thing.” His eyes travel to the shackle around my wrist, which is now burning and seeping blood. A slow smile spreads its way across his face.
“How about we make good use of that shackle?”
* * * * *
Alexander likes to keep me literally near him at all hours of the day. When he conducts business in his office, when he showers, when he eats. Even if he is just reading a book, he makes me sit near him. He always watches me. He even forces me to eat. I’ve lost all hope when Luca has left. He hasn’t heard me. If I have been a second earlier, he would have been in the room and I would have been saved when he hears me banging against the ceiling. Now that he’s come here, I have no hope of him coming back through.
I stand in the bathroom, looking at myself in the mirror. I have gotten smaller. I look sick. There are hideous welts and bruises all over my skin. There are bandages around my hand from beating it bloody, trying to break that plank to hit against the ceiling. I drop my gaze to my stomach. There is a tiny bulge there. If I don’t know what is going on, I will think it is a fat bulge from eating, but it isn’t. It is a baby. My baby. I slowly bring a hand to my stomach, rubbing over the small life that is now growing inside of me.
Not only do I have myself to worry about, but my unborn child as well. I have no idea how I am going to protect him or her when I can barely protect myself.
I jump, as there is a loud bang on the door.
“Elise, you’ve been in there long enough.” Alexander’s voice comes through. I quickly open the door, and he is standing right in the doorway.
“Can I please have some actual clothes to wear? I’m starting to show,” I ask. I keep my eyes trained on the floor; I don’t want to look into his evil face. I am tired of walking around half-naked. I’ve tried once to wear one of his shirts, and that is a big no-no.
I feel his fingers under my chin, and he roughly jerks my face up to meet his gaze.
“Don’t look away when speaking to me. I thought we already went over that.”
A shiver runs up my spine. We have. And just thinking about that punishment makes me want to vomit. He grabs me by the arm, walking me into his bedroom. He closes the door behind him, engulfing us in darkness.
“Wait, Alexander, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. Please don’t hurt me.” I am quaking in fear.
He doesn’t make a sound. I suddenly feel him behind me, running his hands down my body. He pushes my hair out of the way and drops kisses on my throat.
“You want clothes? You’re going to have to earn them.”
I feel pressure on my shoulder and slowly begin to kneel as he pushes me to the ground. My eyes widen as I realize what it is he wants. I immediately jump up from
the floor.
“No!” No sooner have the words left my lips than I feel his hand around my throat.
“What did you fucking say to me?”
I struggle as hard as I can to get the words out. “I … said … no …” I feel the rush of air and land hard on the bed. Before I can move, he is crawling on top of me.
As I lie in bed that night with the pain of new bruises, I feel anger boiling up inside of me. Alexander has his arms wrapped around me, keeping me pulled into his front. All this because I’ve asked for a pair of clothes. It is a reasonable question. All the men in this world are the same. Crazy, lust-driven monsters. I will be damned if I let my child be born and raised in this house. I am going to get out of here. No matter what. For the sake of my unborn child.
* * * * *
Survival—it is something I never have to really do. I just exist. I just beg and try to stay out of the way. But now is the time for me to be brave and stop depending on other people. I never speak; I just listen and do what Alexander says. I can’t put my child at risk by angering him. The thing is that he never leaves the house. He is always here. And he doesn’t trust me enough to roam around by myself. Even when I go to the bathroom, he will show up, telling me I am taking too long.
So on the rare occasions he lets me stay in my own room, I sacrifice sleep to scope out this place. I only need to find the cars, the keys, and the things I can use as a weapon. He has no guards, and only two people work here. The maid and the cook. I never see the cook. And the maid tries to steer clear of me all the time. Even if I can get something of his, I will have to hide it in a room, because he only lets me wear lingerie. I can’t hide it anywhere on my body.
I also start to take notes of Alexander’s habits. He works on things some days, and some days he just relaxes. He never does anything on the same schedule. The only time he ever lets his guard down is when he is asleep next to me. Killing him is going to be the hardest thing I will ever have to do. Nearly impossible. But if I want to get out of here, I will have to make it work.
Chapter 40
Elise
Three. He keeps three guns in his bedroom. Under the bedside table, under the bed, and in his clothes drawer. The dining room always has a knife. Just one. A knife and a fork. Set out for me to eat with. His office has four guns in it. One underneath the desk, one inside the bookcase, one under the windowsill, and one he keeps on him. The bathroom has no weapons. These are the only rooms in the house I am in consistently. And the only one that he ever lets his guard down in with me is the bedroom.
As for keys to the car, they are located in his office, in the third drawer in the desk. If I am to escape, I will have to kill him then take the keys. Not only that, but I will have to ransack his closet for warm clothes. There is no way I am escaping in lingerie when it is snowing outside. This is by far the craziest plan I have ever implemented. But to protect the life now growing inside of me, I will have to grow up and make things happen on my own.
“Elise, you look so focused.”
I look up, and Alexander is standing in front of me with a look of amusement on his face. I have been so focused on my thoughts I haven’t heard him enter the room. He is leaning against the doorframe, watching me intently.
“You’re not planning to kill me, are you?” he says jokingly. He walks past me and into his closet, not waiting for a response. If only he knew.
He steps out of the closet in nothing more than a pair of shorts and no shirt. He crawls into bed closer to me, never breaking his gaze.
“Elise, you know I like it when you sleep naked,” he says, his gaze moving down my body.
I can almost cringe in disgust, but if there is something I have learned living with him, it is that showing my true emotions is not a good idea.
He traces a pattern on my arm, reaching around to undo the clasp of my bra. He reaches out to touch my breast, but I immediately flinch back.
“Please, Alexander. I’m really tired.” I keep my gaze down so he can’t see the true emotion in my eyes. He is silent as he studies me closely. I feel his fingers trace from my throat to my heart and back.
“Are you nervous about something, Elise?” His fingers guide my face up to meet his. “You’re avoiding my gaze.” He looks at me knowingly.
It is men like this that scare me to death. They can read emotions like it is nothing. Even when I do my best to hide them. I have gone over this plan in my head several times, but as we get closer and closer to it being time, I am having second thoughts. All the times I have disobeyed Luca and made him angry flash in my head. The punishments, the torture I’ve endured, and then living with this man. These are the types of men that if you are going to do something to escape, you have to implement it perfectly. Because if you screw up even a little bit, they will make you pay. I have the scars and bruises to prove it.
I meet Alexander’s gaze head-on.
“I’m just tired.”
A smirk crosses his lips as he turns off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. I feel his hands on me, and he begins to whisper in my ear.
“Well, I’m not.”
* * * * *
It takes everything in me to stay awake. Alexander never gets tired. I haven’t even the slightest idea what time it is. He doesn’t care when I beg him to stop. He doesn’t care when I cry in pain. He loves it, and it drives him more. Even if I try to stay silent, he will do everything in his power to make me scream. His breathing has evened out a long time ago, and I stay still to make sure he is in an even deeper sleep. I can feel the dried tears on my face from him being so rough. This is what fuels me out of my fear.
I slowly move out of the bed, careful not to disturb him. Men in this business are light sleepers. So even the tiniest thing can wake him up. Which is why I need to act fast. Once I am out of the bed, I immediately begin to feel under the bedside table. But the gun isn’t there. Only the clip that usually holds it into place. I try not to panic as I move to feel under the bed. I breathe in relief when I feel the gun.
I press it to make sure the safety is off. I stand and aim the gun at Alexander’s sleeping form. As soon as I can, I squeeze the trigger.
Click.
Oh god.
Click click click.
Tears of frustration begin to well up in my eyes. The same deafening sound I’ve heard when I’ve aimed that gun at Luca’s head, I am hearing it now. Over and over.
A deep chuckle sounds in the darkness. I gasp and take a step back. Alexander sits up in the bed and turns on the lamp, illuminating the room. My heart pounds at a thousand miles an hour as he aims a gun at me.
I step back wide-eyed and frightened as hell.
“You never fail to amuse me. You think I don’t know what’s going on? Elise, you are like an open book. When you’re planning something, I can see it. I know what’s happening, and I gave you the chance. I moved the gun under the table so that you would realize the error of your ways. But it’s obvious that you wanted to kill me.”
He cocks the gun in his hand.
“At least I got one last fuck out of you. I can’t wait to see the look on Luca’s face when he finds your impregnated body floating in the river.”
The gears in my head are turning a mile a minute, the plan I have in my head all going to shit. I haven’t thought this through well enough. Then an idea comes to me. Before he can pull the trigger, I throw the gun in my hand with all my might at his head. I don’t even stay to see if it hits him; I sprint into the bathroom just as I hear the sound of his gun going off and slam the door behind me, locking it.
A split second later, he is banging on the door, screaming at me. I can just pull my hair out. I am such an idiot! Why the fuck have I run into the fucking bathroom? I should have taken off out the door! There are absolutely no weapons in here. I frantically look around as he charges into the door once again, causing it to rattle. Shower curtain, toothbrushes, hair products. But there is nothing in here to defend myself with!
“
Dammit!” I shout, punching the wall.
That’s it. I go to the mirror and glance at my battered, bloodied, and bruised body. Using all the strength I can muster, I smashed my fist into the mirror, ignoring the pain of the skin around my knuckles being shredded from the impact of the glass. Shards fall everywhere, and I pick up the sharpest-looking ones, ignoring the pain of the glass cutting through the skin of my palms. I stand ready at the door as Alexander continued to beat on it. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath.
The door splinters open, and in comes Alexander with crazed eyes. I don’t hesitate; I charge at him with the glass in hand, letting all the anger and pain I have been feeling fuel me. I cut at his wrists and chest and legs. I hear the clatter of the gun as I slice through his flesh. I stab him deep in his gut, dragging the glass across the bottom of his stomach. Blood is spilling and splattering on me like a waterfall. When Alexander collapses in pain, I grab the gun off the floor and sprint to the closet. I find an oversize shirt and roll up a pair of his pants about five times as fast as I can. I peep out of the closet, and he is still on the floor, trying to hold his intestines in place. I grab his large coat off the hanger and place it over my body. I am sweating now, but once I step outside, I will be cold. I quickly tiptoe over his body toward the door but pause and look back at him. He sounds as if he is suffocating.
I stand over his body with the gun in hand, and he opens his eyes, staring at me in agony. His breathing is shallow. I slowly raise the gun, aiming it at him. There is blood seeping from my hands where the glass has cut me from holding it too tight. It is dripping over the gun and into the floor.
“You know what? I want to hear you beg.” I cock the gun at him. “Beg me, Alexander.”
He narrows his eyes at me, and I take that as his not wanting to say anything to me. I squat down next to him and place the gun right next to his temple.
“I said, fucking beg!” I don’t feel an ounce of pity as I stand over him. His breathing is coming out in uneven pants. He opens his mouth.