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24

ISABELLA

A crack of gunfire shatters my sweet slumber.

Alessandro snaps up, eyes wide. The sounds of shouting and battle are inside the house, in the courtyard outside.

Stomping feet shake the walls right before the door bursts in, several dark shapes rushing the bed. Aless darts over the bed like the shadow of death, even as the first one reaches me, grabbing at my arm and tugging me off the bed.

“Isa!” Alessandro looks over his shoulder as he grapples with one of the intruders.

Hands lay on me before I can even clear the sheets and Alessandro has a chance to cover me.

“Isabella get down!” He shouts at me and I dive for the nightstand where I know he must keep a pistol.

Three men are already rushing the bed. One turns back, reaching for a gun, clicking the hammer back.

“Gun!” I scream a warning, dodging to the side.

Gunfire explodes in a sharp clap that leaves my ears ringing. The man with the gun goes down, clutching his chest. A gurgling cry follows from the other side of the room.

“Alessandro—” My assailants slap my clawing hands aside, crushing me in a hold and lifting me. He reaches up to silence me and I bite down hard, tasting blood.

“You fucking cunt!” he bellows, shoving me away and striking me across the face.

Stars explode in my vision, staggering me to the floor.

“Grab her, now!”

Hands pull me to my feet.

Just as a shadow rips across the room toward us.

It’s him. My lover.

Spatters of blood across his chest gleam in the dim blue light coming through the windows as he surges forward, a beast unleashed.

“Let her go.” His growl vibrates the walls. He points the barrel above me, the dagger in his other hand dripping dark blood.

He never sleeps unarmed. I learned that from searching his room at the lodge.

“Go, Aless! Shoot him!” I can’t break free from my tormentor’s grasp, but I trust Alessandro to make the shot.

“Gun down or I blow her guts out!” Cold steel presses against my lower back.

Instantly, icy sweat breaks out all over my body.

Not the baby! My mind screams, panic blinding me.

Alessandro stops, hesitating. He sees the look on my face.

“It’s okay, Aless…just wait,” I try to control my shaking. Look for an opening.

The two men left standing flank us, guiding us back toward the door.

“Follow and she fucking dies. Back up!”

We shuffle out into the hall, my feet kicking uselessly.

Gunfire echoes through the house, repeated shouts and screams of the dying. It’s impossible to tell who’s winning. But it’s mayhem. A full-scale assault.

My abductors cluster together, training there weapons on Alessandro, holding him at bay.

“You’re all dead,” he promises, and his words are punctuated by a blood curdling roar from the front of the house. Alessandro bares his teeth. “My brothers are awake. You’re all fucked.”

He stalks towards us.

“Eat shit, Diamante!” One of the thugs shouts, slamming the door.

Fists immediately slam into the wood, splintering the door. Every gun jerks back, aiming for him.

“Get down!” I shriek, right before a hand claps over my mouth.

The spray of bullets shreds the door, deafening me in the enclosed space. An unwitting whimper slips between my lips at the thought of him on the other side of the door, peppered in bullet holes.

“Come on. We gotta get the fuck out of here,” a masked behemoth of a man orders.

“But I wanna kill more of these bastards!” Another one gripes.

“We got what we came for. Let's go!”

They drag me through the house, lifting me up to carry me down the stairs, fighting every step of the way.

“Keep struggling and I’ll rip your hair out,” the huge man roars, viciously jerking a fistful of my hair. “Get her under control or I will.”

My legs turn to jelly the way he says it, pure murderous intent.

The biggest man leads on, blasting one of the guards as he runs to intercept.

“You heard him, woman, stop struggling!” my handler snags the strap of my nightgown, fumbling with me for a second and I lash out, clawing the mask from his face, leaving bright red slices across his forehead and cheek.

“God dammit!” The back of his hand takes me in the jaw before I can take a step, driving me to my knees. He raises his foot to kick me…

“No! I’ll go, I’ll go,” I shrink against the floor, resisting the urge to cover my stomach. My survival instincts demand that I fight, but another instinct is stronger, to protect my child. I just have to bide my time until one of the brothers gets to me.

In the meantime, I can’t give them a hint that I’m vulnerable that way or they’ll use it against me.

“You want your lover and his people to live, you better cooperate.” He drags me back to my feet, spitting blood to the side and we stumble across the entryway toward the front doors.

All around us, blood spatters the floor, the walls. Alessandro’s men are putting up one hell of a fight, the intruders are taking massive casualties.

Still, some of the staff are caught in the crossfire.

A woman runs by us, a maid, screaming. She’s gunned down before she can make the bottom of the stairs.

She was one of the ladies who brought my meals. Always kind. Always offering me a smile.

A sob of rage wracks my body as I’m pulled away from the carnage.

Ciro kicks a man out into the foyer through a doorway, chasing him down and pummeling him like a madman, his fists drenched in crimson. I almost cry out, but I can’t risk drawing fire onto him.

Above us another gang member screams, plummeting over the banister to his death. The body is followed by another figure, deadly silent as he dives over the railing. Ero rockets down, knees first into another assailant, smashing him into the ground with a sickening thud before ramming one of his daggers into the man’s face.

In a flash both knives whip out, taking down another two, launching across the room and into the throat of one of the men guarding our escape.

Ero’s eyes flash, pausing on me for a second. He rushes forward, immediately intercepted by a wall of men as we make it onto the porch, behind a barricade of waiting heavies.

My vision is obscured as we reach a van parked out front, one of many.

“Get in!” I’m shoved onto my side, my ankles and wrists quickly tied. It’s sloppy, but keeps me hobbled enough.

“Go! Go!” I hear a thump on the van door and we’re moving. Struggling up to my knees, I manage to reach the back window, pressing my face to the glass in time to see Alessandro burst through the press, out the front door, sprinting down the drive in nothing but tattered pajama pants.

‘“Isabella!!” he roars, slashing and shooting wildly at the swarm of black-clad men rushing in. A sharp turn tips me over, tumbling, and I lose my bearings.

We’re through the gate and gone.

But I know he’ll come after me. Nothing will stop him.

“Get down, you dumb bitch, you trying to get shot? You stay still, don’t make a fucking peep.”

One of them yanks me toward them, plopping me against the bench. It’s the gruesome-looking one that I clawed. Blood leaks down his neck, mingling with his sweat.

“How does that feel?” I can’t help myself. They haven’t hurt me so far. They need me enough to take without beating me senseless.

“Give me an excuse. I’ll fucking take you right here in the van. You’ll love every second of it!”

I glare but click my mouth shut.

I want to scream in his face, tear his damn balls off for threatening me. For endangering the life of my unborn baby.

But that will just get me hurt, killed.

I have to focus. Stay calm.

Cleverness is key. I’ll use every tool at my disposal to gather information. That’s the only way to survive, or better, escape.

The thought is short-lived, however when one of the men forces a sack over my head, leaning upfront to give directions.

“Got a tail. Take the long way, lose ‘em and go to the secondary.”

“Roger that. Hang on!”

We swerve, taking several turns in a matter of seconds. I lose all track of which way we’ve gone, the distance, the time.

All I know is, we drive for a while before we stop.

“I think we’re clear.”

“You calling it in?”

“Not until we’re safe and she’s secured. You think I’m an idiot?”

“Good point. Dom don’t tolerate mistakes.”

The van slows, turning and bumping up onto a gravel drive.

With no idea what they intend to do with me, I need to be ready for anything. Tugging lightly against my bonds, I work more slack into them, all the while testing the knots to make sure I don’t pull them tight.

They’re pretty firm, but manageable.

And they’re weak shit compared to some of the things Alessandro did to me in Italy.

It almost makes me smile under my hood. To think that our play, his darker tastes would train me to sustain being tied up, kidnapped. The pain and long hours of stamina required to endure his loving torture has built up my tolerance, mental and physical.

Like I said before.

I just have to hold out for Alessandro to come and kill these pieces of shit. Don’t give them a reason to harm me, and they’ll get what’s coming to them.

Of course, making my body believe that is another story.

My legs shake a bit as I’m pulled from the van and walked over rough terrain onto concrete. It smells like the docks, sour and stale.

“Take her down to the holding cell.”

“Then what?”

“Then we fucking wait, dipshit.”

The march through the warehouse, down the steel steps, and into what seems to be a tunnel in the basement of the building gives me time to make mental notes.

There are really only two options for why they took me: One, they plan to take me to Dom or whoever is in charge. Two, and more likely but not exclusive from the first reason, they’re using me as bait to lure Alessandro into a trap.

My stomach sours at the thought. That I may cause him to put himself in danger.

But I remind myself that danger is his way of life.

I just pray that my imprisonment doesn’t endanger Angelica, Gigi, or anyone else.

I hold my ground when they try to force me into a dark room that smells of soured water, rat droppings, and who knows what else. Fortunately, this handler has been less rough with me, staying silent. He shoves me into the wall, letting me slide down to my bottom.

“I’ll be back to check on you in a few hours.” It’s awkward, forced.

The other man with him, the one I scratched, is less kind.

“Sit there like a good fuckin’ dog and maybe we’ll throw you scraps!”

“Man, cut that shit out…”

“What? Ain’t she Diamante’s bitch? Deserves everything coming to her, just like them,” he sneers, speaking overly loud for me to hear.

“Come on, man.”

“Yeah, yeah. If you play nice, maybe I’ll come back and visit you in a little bit. Find us something to do to pass the time.” His voice echoes in the hallway as he leaves.

I swallow hard, shivering in the damp.

An hour passes in darkness, my hands still bound behind me. It’s a slow process, shaking my head and bouncing up and down a bit to get the sack off of my head. When I do, the dank air feels like a fresh breeze on my sweaty skin, my hair a matted mess.

Now I can work on loosening the bindings enough to get my arms free; to either slip them under my legs or get out of them completely.

Another hour and I’m drifting, trying to stay upright against the wall for support. Sleep is the last thing I want to do, but my ordeal is exhausting. I doze hear and there, working on my wrists between naps.

The cell door slams shut, jarring me awake.

My mouth is bone dry and I almost cry at the sight of the cup of water sitting over by the exit.

Stretching to my limit, I manage to get to it.

“Careful,” I whisper to myself, “don’t spill.”

It’s the first interaction I’ve had with my captors, after several hours. I can’t be sure how often I’ll get water or food, if at all.

“Small sips. Pace it out.” My father’s survival lessons echo through my mind, grounding me. We used to camp every summer, fishing and hiking with Gio.

I have to hope they didn’t spike the water with anything. It smells stale, probably from the tap.

It tastes like heaven on my parched tongue.

I can only hope that they didn't spike the water with something.

Kneeling by the door, I can make out voices, far away, but intelligible. Time slips away, losing meaning as I try to piece together anything I can from the conversation.

Most of it is banal, they’re playing cards to pass the time like a damn cliché from a movie. My eyes drag closed, exhaustion weighing on me.

I fight it for a while, but it’s a losing battle.

When I come to, I'm shivering, curled against the stone wall. Every muscle aches.

And the need to relieve myself is so bad that I almost can't stand it.

I hold out as long as I can. But there’s only a little shame and a lot of frustration when I finally cave and have to take care of it in the corner, as far from the door as possible.

Resuming my vigil, I crouch low, pressing my ear to the slits in the bottom of the door. The voices are louder now, closer.

“So what the fuck are we supposed to do? Just wait around here for days?”

“I'm fucking starving.”

“Me too. Make Harry go get us some food.”

“You kidding me? That guy’ll get us pinched.”

“Chill out. You’re too high strung.”

“Hey, the last thing we need is one of those insane brothers tracking us back here. We got the boss’s prize. Now we wait.”

“She's pretty good looking, isn't she? I wouldn’t mind a go at her.”

“No way. Keep it in your fucking pants or I'll have to chop your dick off.”

Good. someone is in charge, at least.

For now.

Waiting can make thugs like that nervous, though.

I have no sense of time in terms of actual daylight, but I get the impression that I’ve been here all night and into the morning. Both men sounded groggy, like they just woke up.

“Geez, you’re such a fucking killjoy.”

“Hey, I don’t want to be the one who has to explain shit to the big boss when he gets here.”

“When’s that?”

“Tonight. After dark.”

Which means I have another day to wait. And Alessandro has a day to find me.