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There’s no way in hell I’m sitting on that. I’ll probably catch something just by being near it.
I turn around and take several steps toward the opposite wall and sit on the bare concrete floor.
The man scoffs before leaning against the door frame. “Suit yourself, but the concrete will hurt after a few minutes.”
I don’t bother speaking. I’d rather be sore and hurting than sit anywhere near that mattress.
“Move,” a deep voice says from the hallway.
The driver immediately holsters his gun and steps out of the way as a tall man takes his place.
Giuseppe Rossi.
“It’s been a long time, Alexandra.” He says with a hint of a sinister chuckle.
Shit. I was hoping he wouldn’t remember me. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him. I was practically a little girl.
“It has.” I say nonchalantly.
I want to ask him why I’m here and what he plans to do to me, but I don’t.
I can’t.
The words won’t come out.
My mouth flops open and slams closed like I’m a fish out of water.
“I bet you’re wondering why you are here.”
He stares at me, waiting for my response.
I keep my voice flat, showing no emotion or curiosity. “That thought has crossed my mind a time or two in the past half hour or so, but I figured I would find out sooner or later.”
The corner of his lips curl up into a smirk. “You’re still the same sassy woman you were back then. Of course you’re grown now.”
Is that supposed to be a compliment? And what the hell does he mean I’m still the same sassy woman I was back then?
Years ago, when I first met him, I was a frightened little girl. I never spoke and hardly spent time outside of my bedroom.
Even then, I knew Giuseppe Rossi was a serious man who didn’t take any shit. He’s the one that clued me and my mother in about my father’s trouble.
He’s also the one that I had nightmares about for months.
“So am I your prisoner? Hostage? Bargaining chip?”
There has to be an underlying reason for them kidnapping me, and it’s not to rehash old business.
I haven’t seen or talked to my family in years, and I’ve changed my last name, making it where they couldn’t find me.
Giuseppe Rossi snaps his finger, and the driver disappears down the hallway for a few seconds before returning. He drags a man into the room, shoving him toward me.
I lean closer to see who the man is, but there’s not enough light to see for sure.
The man looks to be older and malnourished. He’s dirty, frail, tied up, and gagged. He stumbles and falls to the ground with a loud thud.
It’s not until he sits up and faces me that I recognize the hollow face.
Dad.