by Ella Miles
I don’t know what Milo is going to do. Is he going to hurt me now? I know he is a patient man, in a similar way Enzo is. They must have both gotten that trait from their father.
I know Milo is concerned Enzo will attack him. And that might be the only thing that saves me.
We reach the darkness of the basement, and then I see the cage. A cage much nicer than any cage I’ve ever been locked in.
“Go,” Milo says.
I skirt past Milo, but he grabs my hand at the last second before I can get inside the cage that will protect me from him.
He jerks me to his body, and I wince as my dislocated shoulder bumps into his chest.
“Don’t think you are safe. Not for a second. I know your boyfriend will try to make a move. I need to focus on him for now. But soon, you will wish you hadn’t made your deal. When I’m finished with you, your heart will no longer be Enzo’s.”
“My heart will always belong to Enzo.”
His mouth crashes down on mine. I keep my lips closed, refusing to let his slimy tongue inside, but he grabs my chin and forcing my jaw open to push inside.
I squirm, my heart thumps quicker than a hummingbird’s wings, my body trembles, and my breathing stops. I can’t handle the invasion of his tongue in my mouth. What if he tries more before I can stop him? I won’t survive.
He stops the kiss and looks me in the eye.
“I will steal your heart. You won’t give it willingly, but before our time is over, it will belong to me. Not because you love me, but because you can’t handle giving it away to any other man who will hurt you again.”
I gasp, and he pushes me forcefully into my cage. He locks the door carefully and then walks up the stairs without another word.
As soon as he leaves, I break. I pant heavily as tears burn and my heart speeds.
I gasp, trying to catch my breath as I hunch over. Nothing has ever affected me quite like that. That kiss was the worst torture. That threat was the worst threat.
I reach into the sock of my boot and find the knife that now seems stupid. It won’t be enough against Milo. I need more. More to protect myself.
I consider pressing the earrings to alert Liesel to send in whatever men are stationed here. I can’t wait for the perfect opportunity. But they would be sending the men to their deaths.
Milo is ready and waiting for Enzo to attack. We need to work down his patience. We need to get him vulnerable first.
I can do this.
I can save Enzo.
I pace around the room, trying to get the images that immediately flooded my head after that kiss out. But I know they are always going to be there hauntingly my dreams and even my thoughts. Of what that kiss threatened.
Milo will try to take everything from me.
He will try to rape me. But more than that. He will try to take away the love I have for Enzo.
I won’t let him do either.
He doesn’t get me as anything other than his prisoner.
I take long, deep breaths and finally feel the panic attack easing.
I sit down on the edge of the small mattress on the floor, careful not to hurt my arm.
When I close my eyes, I can feel Enzo. Milo kept him in this same room. I can smell his scent, see ruminants of his blood. And I pretend like the last time I was kept in a cage that Enzo is just on the other side of the wall, waiting for me.
I take another deep breath, and then I open my eyes—feeling better.
I examine my surroundings and try to figure out if there is anything hidden in here that can help me, but I don’t see much other than concrete, a water hose, and the bed.
I run my hand along the concrete wall behind me, and then I feel something poke me.
I turn to face the wall and find the small crevice. I dig at it and out falls something small and wooden.
I pick it up carefully and gasp as the tears start in again.
It’s a tiny wooden heart with a small string at the top. I put it in the palm of my hand, and I know Enzo carved it.
There is an etching on it: It’s yours.
His heart is mine.
Just like mine is his.
It’s the closest thing to telling me I love you he’s said.
Did he know someday I would end up in this cage same as him?
Or was this never meant to be passed on to me? Just something he carved for himself to be closer to me?
It doesn’t matter because I’ve never been so thankful for a gift before. I study it more and find on the back he carved a K and an E.
I untie my hair with the scrunchie Zeke gave me and tie the heart to it like a charm added to a bracelet. The task is difficult with my dislocated shoulder, the task is worth the pain.
I have a piece of two of the men who matter most to me I can carry with me everywhere.
I tie my hair back up as best as I can with an injured arm in a sling and then touch the heart. “I love you too, Enzo.”
And then I let my hand fall back to the small hole in the wall. And I know what I will find. Enzo needed a sharp knife to carve such intricate details of the heart.
I find the knife. I have two knives—two chances to kill Milo.
I leave the knife hidden where it is. If Milo takes the one in my sock, I have a backup.
But Enzo had access to a knife and never used it. Why?
Did he think it was the best way to keep me safe?
Or did he truly think it would start a war we might not win?
I know Enzo has faith in his men. I know he won’t put them at risk unless absolutely necessary. That he wants to fight his own battles. But he needs to learn everything is personal in this business. And his men want to fight for him. Because they believe in him. They trust him. They will go to war for him.
“And who are you?” a voice startles me.
I turn around and see a charming looking man leaning against the wall across from the bars on my cage.
He’s dressed casually in jeans and a buttoned-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The top couple of buttons are open, revealing a muscular chest with just a hint of dark chest hair.
“The better question is, who are you?” I ask.
He grins. “Ah, you haven’t earned that yet. You haven’t answered my question.”
“I’m Kai.”
His eyes open wide. “You're Enzo’s girl.”
I nod.
“Is Enzo… is he alive?” the tone of his voice changes as if he’s concerned about him.
“It’s not your turn to ask a question. I answered yours, now you answer mine. Then I will answer more. That’s how this works. Give and take.”
He grins. “I like you. My name is Felix. I’m a guard here.”
“Yes, Enzo is alive.” I refuse to say he might be alive. Or he was alive before I left, but he might be dead now. I have to believe he is alive.
“Good, Enzo and I became something like friends while he was here.”
“Friends? I don’t see Enzo getting friendly with one of Milo’s guards.”
He shrugs. “Believe what you want. But I don’t always think Milo’s way is the right way, especially with how he treats women.”
His eyes heat as he speaks, and I can’t tell if it’s because he’s angered by what Milo does or turned on. He’s a hard man for me to read.
“But if you are here, then what happened to Enzo? He would never let you come here. He would defend you with his life, so he must be dead.”
“I made a deal of my own. To save him.”
He nods slowly before walking to the bars of my cage. He leans against them to get a closer look at me.
“You are tougher than you look.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because it looks like you’ve been in a car accident, then thrown from a high building, before being beaten up by twenty men. And you haven’t once winced, moaned, or complained about how much pain you are in.”
“Then I would say I’m just as tough as I look.”
He looks to my shoulder. “Let me fix your shoulder. I can’t do much about your leg, but I can fix your arm.”
I nod.
I don’t know if I should trust this man or not, but I don’t have much of a choice. It would help a lot if my shoulder were back in place.
Felix unlocks the door and then steps inside my cage. He doesn’t bother to shut it or lock it back. He’s trying to show me I should trust him. That he might be on my side.
But I don’t trust easily. He earned Enzo’s trust, and for now, that’s all I know.
“Stand up and turn around,” he says.
I do as he says, hoping he won’t slice my neck or try to rape me.
“Close your eyes and picture yourself somewhere else. And bite down on something. This is going to hurt.”
I laugh. “Do you know how much torture I’ve survived? I’ve had my shoulder dislocated and put back into place before. I can handle the pain without closing my eyes or imagining something else.”
“I warned you.”
He touches my arm, and I flinch.
“Told you,” he smirks.
“It’s not the pain from my shoulder. It’s from your touch. I don’t like being touched by strangers.” I don’t know why I told him that. It makes me vulnerable, but it’s not something I can hide well.
“Sure, it is.”
Ugh, he doesn’t believe me. Well, I don’t trust him. And my arm is tingling, sending alerts all through my body. There is something off about him, but I can’t figure out what. I don't get the same feeling I do when Milo touches me, but it’s not as calming as when Langston or even Liesel touches me.
“Ready?” he asks.
I nod.
And with a few twists and a pop, my shoulder is back in place.
He releases me, and I turn to stare at him.
“Thank you,” I say.
He frowns. “You weren’t kidding. The pain doesn’t affect you.”
I shrug. “When you’ve been through what I have, the pain is just different. It’s part of my life.”
He grabs my wrist again and watches my face twist from the touch. Then immediately lets go.
“I’m sorry. I believe you. I won’t question you again,” he says.
I nod. “Thank you again for fixing my shoulder.” I test it a few times. It’s very sore, but it’s functioning normally again. In a few days, the pain will be a distant memory.
“I should go. I’ll be back to check on you when I can. I really am Enzo’s friend. You can trust me. If there is anything you need, I’m your man,” he says before walking out.
I nod when he looks back. But I’m not sure I believe him. The vibes I get from him are so strange.
Maybe I just don’t trust anyone anymore?
Enzo trusts him, so that’s something. But I’d rather put my and Enzo’s lives in my own hands if I can. Because trusting other people has gotten us both into trouble in the past.
20
Enzo
I watch the dot on the screen like it’s my lifeline.
It is. It’s my only link to Kai. And for the last twelve hours, it hasn’t moved. Milo must have locked her away in the basement room I was locked in.
A room with all the basic necessities but not much more. But at least she’ll have a bed to sleep in and water to drink.
Beyond that, I don’t know what her current state is.
Is her shoulder still dislocated?
Is her leg still broken?
Is she bleeding from her cuts?
Is she barely clinging to life? Or did Milo pump her full of drugs, ensuring she stays alive?
I don’t get answers to any of those questions. Instead, all I get is a little red dot on a map, showing that Kai is within the walls of Milo’s compound—his impenetrable fortress.
The dot may be comforting, but the number showing her heart rate is what has me memorized. Sixty-three. Almost like clockwork, her heart beats at the same rhythm—sixty-three beats per minute.
I watch the blinking heart around the number representing every time her heart beats.
Blink.
Blink.
Blink.
Blink.
I hold my hand over my own heart, begging it to beat at the same speed. I need that connection right now. God, how I need her.
“Mr. Enzo,” a meek voice says from behind where I sit staring at the laptop.
I take a deep breath, so I don’t kill the young girl. I speak, but my voice still comes out deep and gnarly, “Yes, Yolie?”
“Kai is going to be okay. She’s the strongest woman I’ve met. No matter what happens in there, she’s going to make it,” Yolie says.
I don’t know if that shit is meant to comfort me or what, but I don’t want to hear ‘no matter what happens.’ Nothing is going to happen. I won’t let it. Kai is mine. Mine, mine, mine.
No man touches her.
“Yolie dear, why don’t you come with me? I think Langston could use another run down of how Milo’s security system works and how to override it,” Liesel says, putting her hand on Yolie’s shoulder.
“Sure, I’d love to explain it to him again,” Yolie says cheerily, before running out of the room in the small cottage we found in Italy close to Milo’s mansion.
“Langston is going to kill you for that,” I say to Liesel.
Liesel smiles wryly. “Good, he deserves it.”
I sigh. Liesel and Langston have always wanted to kill each other. Since we were kids, before life got so fucking complicated. And it seems to get worse with every year that passes. Zeke couldn’t stand Liesel either. I’m the only one who has seen that beneath her hard exterior, which often comes across as bitchy, is a broken woman with one of the purest hearts I’ve ever seen. But Liesel doesn’t let that side out often; you have to work to find it. And Langston definitely will take no part in spending enough time with her to find the good.
“You really fucked up, Enzo,” Liesel says, stretching her legs up on the small coffee table as she leans back in the couch.
I want to keep staring at the dot and heart rate on my screen. I want to stare incessantly at the screen waiting for Kai to send a message that she is ready to be rescued. But apparently Liesel needs to talk to me, and it’s not healthy for me to stare at a computer screen for twenty-four-hours a day.
“Yes, I know. But how specifically did I fuck up this time?”
“By making Milo’s child, your heir.”
I sigh. “We’ve been through this already.” I run my hand through my unkempt hair. I could really use a haircut.
“Well, we are going to go through it again, because you are a fucking idiot, and you still don’t have a solution.”
“Does it matter if we kill Milo before he produces a child?” I ask.
“No, but what if he’s already knocked a woman up and is holding her hostage in his basement? What then? If we kill Milo, his child will still become the next leader unless you are willing to kill a child,” she says.
“I’m not.”
“Then what is your genius plan?”
“I don’t care about who leads my empire. I just want Kai safe.”
“You don’t get it, do you?” Liesel stands abruptly, with that look on her face that says she’s going to win this fight. Except I don’t even understand the rules.
She grabs me by the collar of my shirt, and jerks me up from my chair, yanking me toward the door.
“Jesus, woman. Calm down, I’m coming,” I say, as I try to reach for the laptop.
“No, you don’t get to bring that. Not everything is about Kai.”
I growl.
She snaps back and pulls harder as she drags me out of the room. I could fight back, but I don’t feel it’s worth the fight. An angry Liesel would destroy this tiny cottage we are staying at, and we don’t need to draw any attention to ourselves.
Liesel stops abruptly, and I slam into her back. “You could warn me when we are stopping,” I say, but then my eyes c
ut around the room.
The cottage has a tiny living room connected to an eat-in kitchen and table for three. But this room currently includes a hundred of my best men and women.
“This is why you need a better plan,” Liesel says, indicating to all the men and woman gathered ready to fight on my behalf.
“We put out a message that you needed help to get back the woman you love.”
I try to say I don’t love her, but Liesel doesn’t give me room to talk.
“We said the mission was dangerous, personal, and voluntary. That no one had to participate. That you would never ask for their help in something so personal. This is just a fraction of the people who answered. These people believe in you. They believe you are good and worthy of leading them. They love their jobs, and they protect their families fiercely. This is your family. You can’t just abandon them to a psycho. Most of them wouldn’t follow him. They would either end up dead fighting against him or lose the only job they’ve ever known.”
I swallow hard as I stare at all the people who believe in me.
“Sir,” one of the women stands up. “You may not remember me, but you saved me from a terrible situation. I was sold, and you found me and brought me back to my family. You paid for my therapy. And then when I couldn’t find other employment, you gave me a job at your club. I’ve shared my story, and most people in this room know someone you’ve helped, if not them personally. Thank you.”
A man stands up. “Most of the men in this room worked for your father. We didn’t care who he was because he paid well, and we all enjoyed using our weapons. We were fucked up and needed an outlet, and that was shooting and killing people. But your father was cruel and didn’t give us second chances if we fucked up. He was a hard man to work for. And the reason we all kept working was you. We saw you at the club growing up. We saw the goodness in you from a young age. You weren’t a saint, and you never will be, but you care about people. You protect people that need it. And we knew you would become a great leader when you finally took over.”
“Thank you,” I croak out, trying to keep my emotions in.
“And we are all bloody pissed about what Milo did to Surrender. That was our home he came in and destroyed. We want revenge.”