Page 6 of A Madness of Crows

He came to warn me about his father but has a sex trafficking operation in place beneath his home.

Liar.Scum.

And as I pass Cecile, I look up into those blue eyes, letting the hate in, letting it fuel the fire burning inside my chest. “You’re going to die first.”

She recoils as my spit hits her directly in the face, her head banging into the door as she jerks back. Gasps fill the corridor, immediately silenced by one of the soldiers smashing the baton he carries into those bars. My breathing is ragged as I lift my chin, the men holding me stopping as if in shock.

Cecile lifts a hand to her face, wiping the evidence of my anger away. “Get her inside.”

And if she was cold before, it’snothingto the ice layering her tone now.

The door slams closed behind us, sealing us into a brightly lit room. In the middle, steam curls from the steel bathtub secured to the floor, drains circling it to get rid of any water on the floor.

Mirrors line the wall opposite us, the wall-to-ceiling reflection interrupted only by the long shelf covered with products and items that all contribute to making those girls outside…presentable.

Thisis the darkness of the Cosa Nostra. The true evil. And as they strip me, unfazed despite my struggles, as they force me down into that bath with my wrists still tied, I snarl the words at Cecile. “How the fuck do you live with yourself?”

“Easily.” She steps away from the shelf, a bottle in her hand. “Put her under.”

Water rushes into my nose, my mouth, as they shove me down. I thrash, burning pain appearing between my eyes, up my nose before they drag me back out, gasping and spluttering and disorientated.

Cecile’s nails are sharp as knives as they dig into my skull, scrubbing in the shampoo. I’m still catching my breath when the world disappears again, no warning this time to let me close my mouth.

This time, she keeps me down longer. Enough that my ankles smash into the steel edges of the bath, light-headedness threatening to steal my consciousness.

Her face is closer this time when they yank me out, and I heave for air.

“Do you see, now?” she whispers. A nail scratches the side of my face, not hard enough to mark but to prove her point. “Throw your little tantrums, but you’re just another face on the carousel, Caterina. You’ll go the same way as the rest of them, and when you leave, I will still behere. I’m looking forward to it.”

Breathing heavily, we watch each other.

The scream she lets out as my head connects with the bridge of her nose might be the most satisfying noise I’ve ever heard. That, or the crunch of her nose breaking. Or possibly the thud of her head connecting with the floor.

One of them. Any of them.

I glance over the edge of the bath, taking in the sight of her sprawled body. Blood is already flowing from her nose, her black hair hanging over her face as she presses her hand against her nose to stem the flow.

“I am not scared of you.”

My voice is strong, hoarse but strong as she sits up, gaping at me. I spread my lips into something resembling a grin. “You’re a bully with a fucking power complex, and if my wrists weren’t tied, you would already bedead.”

She pales as I hold her eyes. “They will have to untie me at some point, Cecile. And as soon as they do, I will find you.”

Favored pet or not.

Her eyes narrow. “Put her under again.”

Thrashing. Tearing, my lungs burning with the need tobreatheas the panic threatens to consume me.

Say their names.

Alessia. Luc. Dante. Dom. Gio.

The names of our dead.

Bea. Pepe. Frank. Paul.

Joseph.