CHAPTER 15
Ariana's POV
It felt like my body was floating when I came back to my senses.The first thing I felt was cold air crawling across my skin — not the soft kind that wakes you up in bed, but the kind that makes you wonder where the fuck you are.
Pain hit next.Sharp, spreading through every inch of me until breathing hurt.My head throbbed so bad it made my heartbeat echo behind my eyes.I was awake, but my body didn’t believe it.
“This is all your fault!”
“What the fuck do you mean?How is it my fault?”
“You got the wrong gir—fuck, she’s awake!”
Their voices sliced through the fog.
I forced my eyes open.The same four walls.The same goddamn basement.So it wasn’t a nightmare after all.The light was dim, the air thick with damp concrete.I blinked a few times, trying to focus, but the déjà vu hit hard enough to make my head spin.
Bruno and Salvatore.Both standing there, arms crossed, shadows cutting across their faces.They looked bigger than I remembered.More dangerous.
“Ah, you’re awake,” Salvatore said, crouching in front of me with a smirk that wasn’t friendly.The bastard’s face was carved in stone and full of rage, like I’d personally offended him by existing.
When I tried to move, the rope bit into my wrists.I was tied to a fucking chair.Panic shot through my chest, and I tugged against it until my skin burned.My throat was dry, every swallow scraping like glass.
“Bella?”Salvatore hissed.“That’s not your fucking name, is it?”
I jerked back, the chair tipping with me until I crashed hard onto the floor.Pain exploded through my shoulder.
“Hey, man, leave it,” Bruno said, moving in.His voice wasn’t gentle, but his hand was.He grabbed my arm and helped me up, his grip steady.I flinched anyway.“Just help her up.”
“Help her up?”Salvatore snapped.“Stiamo mangiando merda a causa di questa ragazza!”
But he still helped.Probably because he knew if he didn’t, he’d be the one eating that merda.
When they had me upright again, I stood trembling under their glares.I wanted to scream, to claw my way out.Anything.The fear was so thick it sat on my tongue.
These men weren’t amateurs.They weren’t street thugs.They were mafia — I knew that look, that tone, the way violence clung to them like a second skin.
And somehow, after three fucking years of running, I was right back where I swore I’d never be.
Before I could even form a word, someone else walked in.The door groaned open, and a gust of cold air followed him.A few men stepped through, dark suits, colder eyes.
“Untie her,” Salvatore growled.“I don’t want to deal with her anymore.Get her cleaned and dressed, just like boss said.Then bring her down.”
