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brIELLE

T he woman’s screams coming from somewhere beyond my holding cell sent terror coursing through my veins.

Please let Serena be safe. I’d texted my sister earlier to make sure she and Mom had followed through and gotten out of town.

I hoped they’d succeeded. I didn’t know what I would do if I found out my sister faced the same hell as me.

I couldn’t think about that. Instead, I focused on what needed to be done. As soon as they’d left me alone, I’d struggled frantically against the plastic securing my wrists behind the chair. I couldn’t get free. The only thing I could do was throw my body to the side.

I leaned my weight to one side as far as possible then jerked in the opposite direction. The chair tipped. I slammed onto the concrete floor, stifling a cry at the pain in my shoulder. I breathed through it until it was bearable.

The last thing I wanted was to draw attention to my room. I had no idea when my turn would come for their sadistic torture show or whatever else the mafia don had in mind. Whatever it was, I couldn’t let it happen. I had to get free.

On my side, I wiggled and pushed myself higher, shuffling above the chair’s back until I was free of it.

Then I contorted, squirmed, and strained until I got my bound hands under my butt and forced my legs through.

I’d heard about how to break zip ties before.

I only hoped I had the strength to do it.

I couldn’t spare a second to celebrate my progress. Awkwardly, I got to my feet, raised my arms over my head, and brought them down fast, pulling my hands apart on the downward swing. The plastic snapped, leaving nasty welts and cuts on my wrists. I didn’t care. I was one step closer to escaping.

Voices sounded, and I fought panic. I righted the chair. The plastic ties were on the floor. I lunged for them before flinging myself back to my seat and positioning my arms behind me like they were still tethered.

My heart raged against my ribs, and sweat beaded along my hairline and upper lip. I couldn’t catch my breath, fear getting the best of me. A key scraped in the lock, and the doorknob twisted. I waited, tremors racking my body as the door swung open, revealing Vincent Canino.

My heart fell. How will I escape now?

“I’m told you’re Paul Sinclair’s daughter, here in his stead. I have good news.” A smile curved his lips but never reached his eyes. “It’s almost your turn.”

“My father said he paid you a lump sum and we didn’t need to worry.”

“Ah, so you do know something.”

I shook my head. I didn’t know if it was wise to talk to him at all or not. “I went to see him today,” or maybe it was yesterday. I had no idea how long I had been in that room. “It was the first and only time. That’s what he told me when I said someone was following me.”

“Your father lied to you.” Anger turned his brown eyes black. “He failed to tell you he skipped out on his payments, and the debt has come due.”

“It was his agreement with you. And if you do something to me, he won’t care. It won’t make a difference because he only cares about himself.” And maybe Mom.

He lifted a lock of my honey-blond hair and rubbed it between his fingers before releasing it. “I doubt that very much.”

“It’s true.” My hatred for my father grew tenfold. He had to have known what would happen. “He won’t care, so if you’re trying to punish him, this is the wrong method. The only thing that will work is going after whatever he has left to live for. And I can promise you, it’s not his family.”

He hooked a finger under my chin and lifted my face to stare into my eyes. I stripped away all the fear and let him see the truth behind my words. As his thumb caressed my cheek, I shivered with revulsion.

“Even if it’s true, it doesn’t matter. I have you now. And you’ll prove useful.”

I trembled at the thought of never seeing my sister again. And Ares. God, I’d been such a fool. I wanted so much more from him than a fake relationship. Why didn’t I tell him I’ve fallen in love with him?

Shouts bled through the walls, different from the woman I had listened to before. His hand fell away. I tensed. If I saw an opportunity, I would make a run for it. Vincent turned and strode to the door. I jumped up and followed, bending to slide under his arm.

Pain exploded along the back of my scalp, my momentum jerking to a halt. Vincent had a handful of my hair. The hard press of steel against my temple made me freeze. Is this it? Will he pull the trigger?