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“ D addy, what's happening?” I ask him, trying not to sound scared, as the man who’s holding me slams me into the chair opposite my father's desk.

He has to wait for the gag to be removed from his mouth before he can answer.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ve got this under control.” The panic in his eyes and voice tells a different story.

“Do you believe that?” The man leans over me, giving me a good look at his face, and I try to recall it.

He’s an older man, with a podgy face, rosy cheeks, and swept-back grey hair.

“I think yer da here, be tellin’ ye what ye want to hear.

” He chuckles, softly stroking my cheek with his finger, before he turns his attention back to my dad.

“Now, can ye see how serious I am, Frank? ’Tis a terrible thing to lose a daughter. A pain that can’t be described.”

“No…don’t hurt her. She has nothing to do with this.” Dad shakes his head and tries to break free from the ropes.

“Exactly. What caused all this trouble in the first place? Ye should have taken heed of me warnin’, Frankie.”

“What is this?” I cry out. I’ve already figured from their accents that these are the men who were behind Corey’s death, but I can’t work out what the hell they’re doing here. Has my association with the club put my father in danger?

“Just stay calm, pumpkin. I can fix this.”

“There he goes, lyin’ to ye again.” The man laughs.

“ Daddy can’t fix this, little girl. Yer da’s in trouble, and now so are you.

” He grabs my hair and drags me forward so my cheek is pressing against the surface of the desk, and when I feel something hard press against my temple, my father’s eyes become swallowed up with fear.

“I’m going to take yer ‘something precious’, Frankie Boy. I’m going to keep her, and let every one of my men sample her. The quicker ye find a way to give me my daughter back, the less damaged yours will be.” He laughs so coldly as the horror on my dad's face masks his fear.

“How am I supposed to do that…? I can’t.”

“See, if ye did what ye were supposed to do, we wouldn’t be having this problem now, would we?” Two of the men who are standing beside my father move to grab hold of me, and when they start dragging me out of the room, I fight against them as best I can.

“The clock is ticking, Frankie.” The man strolls out the door ahead of us, while I bite and thrash to get free from the brutish men who are carrying me.

I feel something slide over my head, and when everything goes dark, I’m left with my other senses to try and figure out which direction we’re moving in.

I can tell when we’re in the kitchen from the way the floor squeaks under one of the men’s shoes, and I try to map out the kitchen in my head as we move toward the left.

I know for sure we’re in the garage when I smell engine oil, and a scream tumbles from my mouth when I get tossed into what I assume is the back of a van.

“Help!” I scream, patting the floor beneath me with my hands to try and feel for a way out.

“We’ll be having none of that screaming.

” Strong arms lock my head in a vise, and I hear a ripping noise as something wraps around the sack on my head and tightens around my mouth.

There’s barely enough air for me to breathe through my nostrils, so I have to stay calm.

I have to make sure I don’t panic, and I have to believe that Dev will find me and kill every man who's responsible for what's about to happen to me.

“There we are, darlin’, let's get ye nice and comfortable.” I’m placed on a bed that feels soft and much more luxurious than I expected. My eyes adjust to the light when the sack gets ripped off my head, and the grey-haired man stands in front of me, with his three men lined up behind him.

“Where am I?” My eyes flit around the room as I try to take in my surroundings. “Whatever business you think you have with my father, you need to let him go.” I try sounding calm and assertive, but I’m not fooling anyone. Each one of these men is grinning at me like they intend to devour me.

“So many questions.” The one who’s giving all the orders mocks me to his friends as he takes a seat in the corner of the bedroom we’re in. I can feel the floor swaying. At first, I thought it was my head spinning, but now I’m wondering if we’re on a boat.

“Which would ye like me to answer first, me darlin’?” He tilts his head.

“I want you to let me and my father go.” I try to keep any fear out of my voice. I heard the threat he made to my father before we left the house, and I can’t even allow myself to think that he meant it. I’ll continue to tell myself it was an idle threat until I’m proven differently.

“Yer da made me a promise, and he didn’t see it through.

I’m afraid that's a punishable offense.” He leans forward to stroke my hair like I’m a child, and it makes every part of me go cold.

“Sometimes, men like him forget how they got where they are.” His hand slides lower, and I close my eyes.

“I want ye to remember that this is all his fault, Millie. But lessons must be learned.” He stands aside and lets the first of his men step up.