CHAPTER 13
Ariana's POV
Unconscious — that’s what I was.Until a cold, unsettling breeze brushed across my face.My brows knitted together as feeling crawled back into my body, followed by an explosion of pain across my spine.
I tried to open my eyes, but they refused to cooperate.My ears caught the faint dripping of water — rhythmic, echoing off concrete.The air was damp.Heavy.
Where the hell was I?
I tried to remember...the restaurant...the gunshots...Matt.
“M–Matt...”My throat was raw, voice nothing but a rasp.
My eyes finally fluttered open, only to shut again.The world spun, blurring every time I tried to focus.Drowsy didn’t even begin to cover it.Then — footsteps.Two sets.Heavy.Slow.
Goosebumps prickled up my arms.I forced my eyelids apart, just enough to make out two massive silhouettes looming above me.They didn’t move, just stood there, watching.Then, after a few seconds, they turned away — not far.I could still feel them.
“M–M...Matt...”
I turned my head weakly to the right, still half blind, and saw them — the two men — kicking something.I blinked hard, trying to clear the fog in my vision.When I finally could see again, my stomach lurched.
They were kicking someone lying motionless on the ground.
Bile surged up my throat.I gagged and rolled onto my side, vomiting nothing but clear liquid.My hands hit the floor — rough, cold, bloody.My hands were bloody.My clothes torn.Filthy.
I tried to sit up too fast.The room tilted sideways.My vision shrank to a tunnel.Everything spun.
The men started talking, voices booming.
“Ti ho trovato!”one of them barked.
I flinched, realizing too late they were speaking Italian.My heart jumped.
I tried to steady myself, palms pressed to the floor.I wasn’t about to cower — not yet.I looked up at them, blurry and furious.Their laughter was deep, cruel, echoing.
“Povera piccola cosa,” one of them said, stalking toward me like I was some kind of wounded animal.“Capo sta per essere sorpresi.”
My mother’s voice echoed in my head — Never speak another language in front of people unless you’re told to.
She’d taught me Italian, taught me manners, taught me survival.These bastards had none of it.
I glared up at them, rage burning through the fear.
“Sta' zitto e ottenere una mossa!”the other one snapped, his tone switching from amusement to irritation in a second.
I kept staring at him, my jaw tight.Inside, I was falling apart, but outside?I gave them nothing.
“Where am I?”I asked.
“Portarla fuori, andiamo!”the one barked, ignoring me completely.
As we locked eyes, my mind darted back to Matt.Panic clawed up my throat.
“Matt...where’s Matt?What did you do to him?!”I screamed.
They didn’t even flinch.Just kept staring, like I was a problem they hadn’t figured out how to deal with yet.
I tried to move, but pain tore up my back like fire.My clothes were ruined, sticky with blood and dirt.My reflection in the floor’s faint puddle showed someone half-dead.
