My heart kicked harder.Were they Nicola’s men?God, what if they were?I hadn’t heard that name in years, hadn’t dared think of it, but some ghosts never stay buried.Nicola was the reason I had panic attacks in the first place — the reason Matt had to piece me back together.
Now, Matt was missing, and I was trapped with these psychos.
Bruno kept laughing, clearly enjoying winding Salvatore up, while Salvatore looked about ready to strangle him.
“You’re not fucking funny,” Salvatore grumbled.“Take her to the bastard so he can deal with her.”
Bruno rolled his eyes but did what he was told.He grabbed my arms roughly, slapping cuffs on my wrists.The metal bit into my skin.He started dragging me forward, my feet stumbling to keep up.
“Let me go!Let me go!”I screamed, twisting against him.
“Chiudi la troia piagnucolosa!”Salvatore barked from ahead, without even turning around.Shut up, whiny bitch.
I glared daggers at his back, wishing I could claw his perfect face off.
“Quiet,” Bruno ordered, his voice hardening.He reached into his pocket, and when he came back, my stomach dropped.
A strip of duct tape and a black cloth.
“Don’t you dare—”
He didn’t hesitate.The tape went over my mouth, ripping at my skin, and the cloth came down over my head.Darkness swallowed everything.
They started moving again, dragging me somewhere cold.The air changed — heavier, colder, like we’d walked into a freezer.My breath fogged against the fabric.My tears bled into it too, soaking the edges until the damp chill hit my skin.
We stopped.The echo of a door opening followed — the same heavy kind that belonged to basements and bad memories.Cold air rushed in, and I shivered so hard my teeth rattled behind the tape.
Then instinct kicked in.Fight or die.
I lowered my head, saw only the floor and our feet.Bruno’s shoes were right there.
And I stomped.Hard.
He cursed in Italian as pain tore through his voice, his grip slipping for a split second.It was all I needed.
With my cuffed hands, I yanked the cloth off my head, ripped the tape from my mouth, and ran.
Fast.Wild.Like hell was at my heels.
“What the fuck?!Get the damn girl!”
The shout echoed behind me.I didn’t dare look back.I bolted down a long hallway lined with doors, my heart slamming in my chest, lungs burning.
Left, right — every door looked the same.I grabbed the first handle I could and stumbled inside, slamming the door behind me.
The noise outside dimmed.I pressed my back against the door, sliding down until I hit the floor.My wrists ached where the metal dug into my skin, and my whole body shook with adrenaline.
When I finally looked up, I realized I’d run into someone’s bedroom.
The bed was a mess — sheets tangled, pillow dented.The window was open, white curtains swaying in the cold wind that cut straight through me.
For a second, I just stood there, trembling, breathing hard, and praying this wasn’t the end.
My eyes locked on the bed, but my heart sank when I heard footsteps coming from the adjoining bathroom.
A man stepped out — tall, broad-shouldered, wrapped in a black suit that fit him like sin.The fabric pulled tight across his chest, the watch on his wrist glinting as he adjusted his cuffs.His hair was slicked back, dark and precise, the kind of detail that screamed control.
I froze against the door.He hadn’t even looked up yet, and still something in me knew I should be afraid to breathe.
