I hurry down the trellis and slip on my shoes, my eyes darting left and right to make sure none of my father’s goons are hawking me as I’m sure they will as soon as he alerts them I’m gone. I know they’re positioned in the house, but nobody ever thinks to cover the trellis and for some reason, there are no security cameras in this area. Luckily, I know exactly how to avoid the other ones. I swallow hard as I jog away from the sprawling mansion where we live. It’s a massive estate that is set into a cliff overlooking the Adriatic Sea.
For most of my life, I was an afterthought to my father. He barely spoke to me, never showed me any affection. He was all business, all the time, and the only other male influence I ever had was his brother, Nikola.
And unlike his callous asshole of a brother, Nikola showered me with attention and earned my trust in return. I feared my father, but found comfort with his brother who treated me like I was his daughter.
Until that one night when I stumbled upon the horror of horrors, a scene that will be forever etched into my memory.
With Nikola as the star.
The screams, the blood, the sheer terror…it was the worst thing I could have possibly imagined, an actual living hell a hundred feet away from where I sleep.
I will never forget what I witnessed that night, and Nikola made it very clear what would happen to me and my mother if I ever spoke a word of it to anyone.
The rage he exhibited was like nothing I’d ever witnessed before, even from my father.
When he forced himself on me…in me…I knew it had all been bullshit. He didn’t give a damn about me. He was my father’s pawn, and I’d become his. He only kept me close to make sure I stayed quiet and obedient. My father gave the order and he executed it.
He managed the liability, and if not for my father’s opulent and very public life where his trophy wife and daughter were necessary ornaments, I’m pretty sure Nikola would have killed us both.
But since he couldn’t dispose of me and I was watched twenty-four-seven, anytime I made a threat or tried to get away from Nikola, he showed me again and again what would happen to me and Mama if I succeeded. My eyes sting with tears as the images of those girls, bloody and beaten at his hand, loop through my mind.
Some of them were lucky enough to be sold into slavery, keeping my father’s underground sex trafficking ring thriving.
But so many others suffered. He drugged them, raped them, and beat them.
Some of them wound up dead.
And he had me watch every disgusting act of violence before he violated me, just to prove his point.
He got off on all of it and I was his release.
He stripped me of everything during that time, leaving me numb and empty.
Hopeless.
For weeks afterward, I would come outside and stare out at the deep blue waves crashing against the jagged rocks below, praying for a way out of the hellish existence that consumed our lives for far too long.
But prayer alone wasn’t going to cut it.
It was time to take action.
And up to me to save us all…
Tonight.
My eyes flutter open and I struggle to focus, early morning sunlight streaming into the room. I stare at the ceiling and then each wall, trying to remember where I am and how I ended up here.
Am I alone?
When did I fall asleep?
How long have I—?
And then, clarity.
My mind works in overdrive to process all of the toxic images that suddenly flood my memory — the ambush, my father’s rage, Mama’s lifeless body…
A sharp pain shoots down my side as I shift on the plush leather couch. For a second when I woke up, the noise in my head had been muted, the anguish buried in the far corners of my mind.
It didn’t take long for everything to come crashing down on me like I was standing at the base of an avalanche.
I struggle to sit up, clutching my injured side. The stab wound could have been fatal if I hadn’t acted as fast as I did and jammed my own knife into my assailant’s throat. It bought me some time to escape the safe house.
Safe house.
What a fucking joke.
And in an ironic twist, it turned out to be the stab wound that made me lose focus and hit the rock that sent me flying off of the moped last night.
The stab wound that led me to Vince.
I run a hand through my hair and peer around the room until my eyes fall on his large, muscular body folded over in a leather recliner a few feet away. His head lolls back against the cushion, his strong arms laying on each side of him.
I have to squint a little harder to see the gun clutched in one of his hands.
I guess that even with his fancy security system, he’s not taking any chances that his uncle might have sold us out.
What a piece of shit.
I’d like to kill him all over again for being part of my father’s business and causing the destruction of so many lives.
Dammit, I should have stabbed him in the balls first.
Made him pay for his sins before sending him to the flames of hell.
I’d wanted to do the same to Nikola as a final farewell before fleeing Croatia.
But he disappeared right before I blew the whistle on my father.
I’d have expected him to pay me one final visit before going off the grid, went out on a terrifying note.
He didn’t.
I swallow hard. Cotton mouth. I really need some water. And a new plan.
My father is still out there and he won’t stop until he finds me.
I can’t let him hurt anyone else.
And I can’t go to Paolo knowing that my mere presence will put him and his family in danger.
I need to end this.
Now.
I wrack my rattled brain for a few minutes as my eyes drink in Vince’s still form. He looks relaxed and peaceful, so different from only hours earlier when he found out about his bastard of an uncle. He didn’t say a word about it once we ran from the facility, but I could see from his tight jaw and pinched forehead that it impacted him. But letting someone into your personal thoughts like that, a stranger no less, is a sign of weakness. I’m all too familiar with that, even though I keep falling into the same trap. And I know how devastating it is to find out that people you trusted are actually evil and deceitful bastards who only want to use you for their own gain.
But right now, whatever feelings he’s harboring from last night don’t seem to be affecting his sleep.
That’s good.
All I need to do now is find his car keys.
I sit up on the couch, cracking each of my knuckles as I go through scenarios in my head.
Okay, so Sil called my father and told him I was at his facility, but I managed to escape before he showed up.
I’m sure that pissed him off plenty, and then seeing that his Sicilian operative is now dead riled him up even more.
Good. I want him to be full of rage when I find him. I want it to eat away at his black soul!
Okay, okay, think!
Where would he go next?
He might try Paolo.
A shiver runs through me.
Or he might return to the safe house because he thinks I’d go back for Mama.
Fuck!
What if he’s already gotten to Paolo?
Maybe I should go there first instead.
Maybe it’s too late.
Angry tears sting my eyes.
I should have called Paolo hours ago and warned him! What the hell was I thinking, not alerting him about my father’s deadly manhunt? I was trying to protect him and his family by steering clear, and I led my father straight to them!
“Please, please, please, no!” I whisper quietly, hitting the heels of my hands against my forehead and then letting out a sharp gasp because, in my panic, I forgot about the bandaged head injury. A shock of pain explodes between my temples, and I fall back against the couch cushion with a muffled whim
per.
I have got to get it together.
I’ve come too far to let him win.
I squeeze my eyes shut and take in a deep breath, pushing myself to a seated position once again. I swing my legs around until they hit the floor and I get up slowly, padding across the room.
I remember a porcelain bowl in the front hall where Vince dropped his keys last night when we came into the villa.
Vince.
Instinctively, I turn back to see him still sprawled out in that chair.
A chill slithers over my skin as I recall his arms wrapped tight around me when I fell into them, how I wanted to stay there forever, pressed against him, his warmth radiating through me.
A part of me wants to rush back to him and fling myself back into his embrace, to pretend like the nightmare loop that’s become my reality is just a dream after all.
But then I hear Mama’s last words to me.
I feel her body go cold in my arms.
And I remember the rush of anger course through me.
I can’t stop now.
I rescued those women, I protected their lives, and I got us out of imminent danger.
But my betrayal is one that can only be punishable by death.
Mama’s already paid the steep price of the sin we committed against my father.
She told me to run, to never look back.
But I can’t. I won’t, not until the looming threat is eliminated.
I want to look my father in the eye when I pull the trigger.
I want to hear him beg for mercy.
And then I want to tell him to rot in hell right before his head explodes from the force of the point-blank shot.
My pulse picks up speed as I watch the scene play out in my head. My fingertips tingle as I grasp the car keys, goosebumps shooting up my arms.
A brutal and vicious ending.
That’s what I want for him.
He needs to suffer the same way all of those poor women did.
And if I had access to a pen full of rabid predators, I’d throw him in and watch him get torn apart, limb by limb, until he is no more than an unrecognizable pile of flesh chunks and bone bits.
Oh, hell yes.
That’s what I want for him.
Maybe I got the sadistic gene from him.
Is that fucking poetic justice or what?
I reach out for the brass door handle and hold my breath as I twist it.
My eyes flicker to the left for the briefest moment before I pull it open and I bite down on my lip.
The alarm!
Sonofabitch!
My shoulders sag as I stare at the blinking red light next to the keypad.
It’s obviously set, and I don’t have a damn clue as to how to deactivate it.
Deep pink and orange sunlight peeks over the horizon and pretty soon, it’ll be daylight.
Bad things happen when the sun shines bright in the sky.
You can’t run, and you can’t hide.
A gust of the sea breeze ruffles the leaves on the trees right outside to my left.
I blink fast and furrow my brow as the red alarm light flickers and then goes dark.
I peer out the window, my eyes adjusting to the early morning light as they scour the tall grasses next to the house. The slightest hint of movement makes me recoil.
But it isn’t coming from outside.
Wait, what the hell—?
I don’t have a chance to even finish asking myself the question before hell fire explodes into the still air.
Bang! Crack! Pop!
A burst of bullets fractures the glass, and I collapse against the door to shield me from the sudden ambush, tiny shards stinging my flesh. Another round of shots tears into the walls surrounding me, the sound of lamps cracking and sculptures smashing reverberates between my temples. I clap my hands over my ears and let out an ear-piercing screech as I tumble to the floor, a searing pain slicing through my side.
Goddamn stitches!
I cover my head with my hands, my eyes squeezed shut as a heavy force lands on top of me, keeping me out of range as another burst of bullets continues to decimate the villa. My arms and legs flail, and try as I might, I can’t drag in enough oxygen at this point to scream.
“Stop moving,” Vince mutters. “I’m trying to keep you covered!”
I take short, sharp gulps of air, my body stuck, immobile underneath Vince’s muscular one. He fires at the now-open window, sending bodies flying through the air as his bullets connect with them, tearing them apart at the close range.
“Y-you s-shot y-your own h-house up,” I gasp as silence falls on us.
“I’ve got insurance for the house,” he grunts, rolling me toward the door and out of the line of fire. “But not for you.”
My chest rises and falls as I drink in as much air as my lungs can hold. “I thought I was going to suffocate,” I rasp.
An eerie silence falls over the bullet-peppered foyer, and Vince pulls me to my feet.
“Argh!” I say, cringing as he drags me away from the devastation. I stagger against him, following his lead, when another group of assailants smashes through the windows overlooking the sea. “Vince, look out!”
He grabs my hand, dragging me over to the bar and shoving be down to the floor behind it. “You need to stay here,” he says, pulling an empty clip from one of his guns and popping in a new one.
“You can’t take them on by yourself!” Harsh sobs rock my shoulders. “My f-father won’t leave until we’re both dead! You can’t do it alone!”
“Don’t worry,” he says, crouching low and peeking out from behind the bar. “Just stay here.” He creeps around the side and I inch closer to the edge, shielded by a slap of wood, the only thing that protects me from who the fuck ever is out there.
He darts out, both guns firing at the men clad in black who just invaded what I believed to be Vince’s sanctuary.
Now it resembles more of a death den.
A gaggle of tears catches in the back of my throat.
Mirko is here.
He won’t let me win.
He promised me that, and so far, he’s delivered on each and every threat.
I tiptoe closer to the edge, searching for anything I can use as a weapon. Unfortunately, a lemon zester, some highball glasses, and a bottle of bourbon aren’t going to save any lives.
Unless I start hurling them at heads…
My fingers close around a heavy crystal glass and I peek around the corner. I can at least stun one of them enough so that Vince can—
Bang! Pop! Crack!
“No!” I yell, clutching the sides of my head.
It’s as if time screeched to a grinding halt.
Blood stains the walls and windows, bodies strewn around the room, limp and lifeless as rag dolls. But the shots continue to ring out, and just as I’m about to let the glass fly, Vince’s body is punctured by another series of explosions before crumbling to the floor.
“Mirko!” I shout my father’s name, blood rushing between my ears. My voice sounds muffled to my own ears, as though I’m screaming while trapped in a bubble. I rise to my feet, my legs shaking. This guy just saved my life. Gave his life for me.
Another victim of my demonic father, fucking Satan Incarnate.
I won’t let him get away with it.
It’s time. I may have missed once, but there is no way I’ll miss again!
“I’m here, Mirko!” I yell as I walk out from behind the bar. “Come and get me, you piece of shit coward! You let your army clear the path for you because you’re a pathetic bastard who can’t fight his own battles! You just use people for your own gain!”
I pant those last words, my chest heaving more and more with each passing second.
Silence is the only response I get from all of that ranting.
But I know he’s close. He’s always watching, always waiting to pounce.
“You let all of these men die because you’re a sick sonofabitch! An evil m
onster!” I shout, sobs erupting from my chest. “Where the fuck are you? Let me see you so I can finish what I started! I’m going to fucking end you and your reign of terror, do you hear me?” I roar, shoving my fists into the air.
I turn toward the front windows and walk slowly toward the bullet-punctured glass, an ache assaulting my heart when I pass Vince’s still form. My eyes are blurred with tears and I can’t bear to look at him, to see the lifeless face of a man who gave me my last lifeline.
He really shouldn’t have stopped on that road.
He’d still be alive right now, staring out at the sea, his future still very much a reality.
I stumble as I sidestep one of my father’s men, my foot stepping on something sharp and delicate. My breath hitches as I lean over to scoop up the Murano glass sculpture.
What’s left of it.
Like the men scattered around the villa, it was also an unnecessary casualty of my father’s war against me.
Another reminder of everything I lost.
I throw my head back and let out a howl as my body shudders, trembling from the cries erupting from my lungs.
My life is shattered, my hopes, dreams, plans…all of it, a splintered, fragmented mess of destruction.
He took it all from me!
I hurl the glass at the wall, glaring at the tall figure moving toward me.
He, too, is dressed all in black with a menacing smile lifting his lips. There’s a gun in his hand, but it’s not pointed at me.
Yet.
I grit my teeth, my fingernails digging into the flesh of my palms.
The last time I saw him, I’d come damn close to extinguishing his evil light forever.
But that second’s hesitation led to the demise of so many others, including Vince.
And as I stare him down, as he closes the space between us, the realization hits me like a sucker punch.
I have no weapon.
No way of defending myself.
No possibility of carrying out my plan.
Fuck.
My spine stiffens as his face comes into view, his dark eyes spitting pure malice, his lips twisted into the snarl he reserves for me when we’re behind closed doors.
Because heaven forbid he lets the rest of the world know who and what he really is.
The devil.
Fallen: A Dark Italian Mafia Romance (Men of Mayhem Book 4) Page 8