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Max and I locked eyes.

If I got shot and died here, I’d never feel Cas’s arms around me again. I’d never hear Wynn’s voice, see Ciel’s smile, spar with Ryu’s sass, or connect with Obi’s mind.

With my hands fisted at my sides and my teeth gritted, I lowered to my knees. Max did the same.

The man removed the cold gunmetal from my cheek. Withoutwarning, he whipped the pistol across my face, and I sprawled to the floor, gasping in pain. My head swam, but Max shouted something above me.

“Bitch,” the man said behind me. His hand fisted in my hair again, pulling me backward. I could do nothing to fight as he dragged me out of the cell and through the hallways of the ship. I glimpsed a massive room full of machines while he dragged us down a set of stairs, and I flinched as the grinding sounds filled my ears.

“Leona!” Max called from somewhere behind me.

“Max,” I groaned. My vision blurred. The Albanians seemed to drag us through the entire depths of the ship, through hallways lined with rooms and countless sets of stairs that went down one area and up another. I thought I caught a whiff of some sort of food smell, but my stomach turned and dizziness overwhelmed me. The man’s fingertips dug into my scalp.

If I got another concussion, Willow would be furious. How many concussions could you get before you had permanent brain damage? Something told me I was about to find out.

He dragged me through a doorway, and I let out a shout as my knee banged against more metal. Blood, coppery and bitter, tinged my mouth. Finally, the man dropped me to the floor in front of a massive panel of controls and navigation tools. Wide paneled windows stretched across the front of the room, giving me a view of a cloudy sky. It had to be the bridge.

My heart pounded. My lungs were on fire. Slowly, I pushed up from the ground to face three men staring down at me like I was a piece of shit on their shoe.

Max dropped to my side. Blood dripped from a cut somewhere in his hair. I no doubt had something matching on my face from where that bastard pistol-whipped me because when I wiped my face, blood stained my arm.

The guns pointed at us again.

“What do you want?” Max asked, kneeling. That arm still hung limply at his side, but his other hand curled into a fist.

One of the Albanians crouched in front of us, a man with pale skin, yellow teeth, hollow cheeks, and hair buzzed close to his scalp. He looked at us both. “What a ruckus you two have caused.”

“Let her go,” Max said. My head whipped toward him, surprised. “You’ve got me. That’s what your bosses wanted, isn’t it?”

The man snickered. “She’s worth just as much as you are, Volpe.”

What the hell? I opened my mouth to question, but Max held his hand out in front of me, almost in warning. “She knows nothing. She’s a liability. Baggage. But with me, your bosses could actually get something valuable.”

My skin bristled, and my jaw clenched.Asshole.

Buzz Cut’s eyes shifted back to me, dragging slowly down my body. I refused to recoil or cower in fear at the lecherous look in his eyes. This guy didn’t faze me. “She’s payment for the money we’ve lost since you killed Vero. But you will be of use in our…negotiations with the Camorra.”

The Camorra? What did the Camorra want with Max? Or the Albanians? My brain was barely keeping up with whatever discussion Max thought he was holding, but it stuck on the first thing Buzz Cut said.

Payment for my father. For the money they’d lost since he died. For all the shit things they used to do together. Bile coated the back of my throat. Even from his grave, my father was still fucking with my life.

“You touch me, I’ll cut your balls off and then I’ll feed them to you.”

Any of my men would do the same.

If they found me in time.

Buzz Cut’s yellow teeth split into a sinister smile. “I will enjoy watching you break, right alongside our other product.”

My blood ran cold. Other product?

“You can’t touch us without your boss’s permission.” Max drew the man’s attention back to himself. He wore that passive mask, the one that was so out of place on the face of the boy I knew. Each time I saw it, I was more and more convinced thatthiswas his real skin. “You don’t want to ruin whatever they have planned, do you?”

Buzz Cut cocked his head to the side. “Patience, Volpe. We have plenty planned for you and the Vero bitch.”

“Fuck you,” I bit.

The Albanian barked a sharp laugh. Instead of answering, he smacked me across the face. I gasped, fingers reaching for my stinging cheek. “Bitches keep their mouths shut.”