Page 36 of Ruthless Secrets (Alpha Mafia Daddies #6)

Chapter Thirty-One

CLARA

The car jerks to a stop, and my stomach lurches with it.

The air in here is thick and suffocating. Every breath I take is a challenge, and my legs are starting to cramp.

I have no idea how long I’ve been in this trunk for at this point. It could be minutes, or it could be hours.

My body is on high alert, knowing that death likely waits for me the moment the trunk opens.

I squeeze my eyes shut as footsteps crunch against gravel followed by low, muffled voices, but I can’t make out the words over the pounding of my heartbeat in my ears.

Suddenly, the trunk flies open, and I wince as the sunlight blinds my eyes.

One of the men from the cabin grips my arm so hard my shoulder protests and yanks me out of the trunk as if I weigh nothing.

My feet hit the ground so hard that my knees buckle, but I don’t get the chance to steady myself before a hand fists in my hair.

I bite back a cry as he pulls on my hair, his hot breath tickling my skin .

“Move,” he growls in my ear before releasing me so that my head lolls forward. “I said move.”

I don’t see the hit coming, but my head snaps to the side as pain explodes along my cheekbone.

The skin burns but still, I don’t make a sound. I won’t let them break me.

“Put the fucking blindfold on!” the other one orders.

Before I have a chance to take in my surroundings, a thick musty cloth is pulled over my eyes, and my world plummets into darkness.

The blindfold is painfully tight, and I start to panic.

I try my best to force it down, to stay calm, but then a gun clicks, and a sob starts to build in my throat.

“Let’s go.”

My feet trip over loose gravel, the sharp edges digging into my bare feet as I’m forced forward.

A calloused hand is wrapped around my upper arm, gripping it so tightly that I know there’s be a bruise starting to blossom beneath the skin.

I try to focus on my surroundings, listening out for any familiar sounds that might give me clues to where I am. The gravel beneath my feet soon shifts to something harder, like concrete, and a faint smell of gasoline hits my nose.

Where the hell am I?

I strain my ears, but the only sound I ger is the heavy breathing of the man behind me. His breath smells of stale cigarettes, and I fight the urge to gag every time I breathe.

“Put her in here,” the other one barks.

In where?

A door creaks open and suddenly I’m thrown forwards.

I hit the ground hard, landing on my knees and this time, I can’t hold back my cry as pain shoots up my legs.

I roll onto my side, clutching my aching knees as I try to breathe through the pain .

Someone approaches me, and then the blindfold is ripped away, and I squint against the dim light.

“Strip down to your underwear.”

I jerk my head up, my pulse spiking.

One of the men from the cabin stands over me, his muscular arms folded across his chest as he blocks the door frame.

I shake my head before I can stop myself. “No.”

He narrows his eyes. “I wasn’t asking.”

I don’t want to give in, but I also know how this works.

Men like him want fear. They want me to resist so they can enjoy the punishment that follows.

I take a shaky breath as I reach for my shirt.

My hands are trembling so hard it’s difficult to grip the hem, but somehow I manage to lift it over my head.

My fingers go to the waistband of my jeans next, and I swallow a sob at the weight of the burner phone in my pocket.

There’s no way I’ll be able to sneak it out without the man noticing. I have no choice but to give up my last line of connection to Marco and hope that he manages to find me.

I tug my jeans down my legs, stepping out of them with slow, jerky movements, before tossing them on the ground. Cold air bites at my skin, and I cross my arms over my chest, clutching myself to try and hold on to the last of my dignity.

The man doesn’t say a word. Instead, he just steps forward and takes my clothes, including the phone Marco gave me, before leaving and slamming the door shut behind him.

The sound of the lock clicking into place makes my stomach churn.

There’s no escape.

I shiver violently, rubbing my arms as I glance around my prison, a sob building in my throat as I eye the damp concrete walls and the single flickering light bulb overhead .

There’s a metallic stench to the air mixed with something like urine.

I swallow the bile rising in my throat, which threatens to come up when I spy an old, stained mattress sitting in the corner, with no sheet or even a blanket, and a bucket placed next to it.

I can’t contain my panic any longer. Its claws are wrapped around my throat, gripping it so tightly that black spots start to dance behind my eyes.

My legs buckle, and I sink to the floor as I think of Zoe and Marco.

My teeth are chattering so violently that my jaw aches, and my cheeks feel raw from the tears that are streaming down my face.

I have no idea where I am, and there is no way out.

If Marco doesn’t find me, I am going to die here.

I hug my knees to my chest.

Marco will come for me.

He has to.

I don’t know how long I sit there on the cold ground, sobbing as I think of Marco and Zoe. My body is exhausted, and I’m half falling asleep when the sound of footsteps approaching jerks me awake.

I quickly crawl away from the door, hissing through the pain in my knees, as the sound of the bolt sliding across echoes around me.

This is it.

My head snaps up as the door opens again, a small part of me hoping that Marco will be on the other side.

Instead, I’m met by yet another stranger, this time an older man with graying hair dressed in a crisp navy suit that looks completely out of place.

His presence is suffocating as he steps into the room.

I spy the deep scars etched into his knuckles as he reaches into his pocket, and I brace myself for the gun he is about to pull on me.

I screw my eyes shut, my thoughts focused solely on Marco and Zoe as I wait for him to pull the trigger.

But it never comes.

Instead, a soft thud sounds nearby, and I peel my eyes open to see the burner phone in the middle of the mattress.

“You’re going to call Marco and tell him that you escaped and are hiding in a warehouse on Lakeview Drive.”

I frown as I turn to face him. “W-why?”

He watches me with amusement in his eyes, and that’s when I realize the game being played here.

He wants me to lure Marco to him.

I reach for the phone and grip it tightly in my palm as my mind races. This could be my last chance to talk to Marco, to tell him I love him, but at what cost?

“And if I don’t?”

His lips curl, slow and deliberate. “Then you’ll die screaming.”

My knuckles turn white as I grip the phone. “And what if I do?”

The man tilts his head slightly, studying me.

“If you do, no harm will come to your daughter.”

My heart stops.

He knows about Zoe.

I can’t move. I can’t breathe .

The thought of anyone touching my daughter fills me with such rage that it scares me. But I will do anything to make sure she stays safe.

“How do I know you’re not lying?” My voice wavers .

His lips pull up into a smile, showing his yellowing teeth. “I may be many things, but a liar isn’t one of them.” He watches me, like he enjoys the way I tremble beneath his words. “If I make a promise, I honor it.”

I feel sick. I don’t want to do this, but how can I not? What kind of mother would I be if I risked my daughter’s life?

My hands shake as I unlock the phone and dial Marco’s number.

He answers almost immediately, and the sound of his voice has my heart shattering.

I just have to hope that he works out that this is all a setup, otherwise it will cost him his life.

“Clara?” His voice cracks. “Love, where are you?”

I screw my eyes shut as I try to push past the lump in my throat.

“I-I’m okay. I managed to escape. I’m hiding in some warehouse out on Lakeview Drive. P-please come get me.” My voice cracks, and I choke back a sob as I clutch the phone tighter to my ear. “I’ll leave my phone on so you can track it.”

“Wait there, love. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

I glance at the man standing in the doorway, and I almost tell him not to come. But as he approaches me, I know I’ve run out of time.

“I love you.” It might be the last time I ever get to tell him.

“I love you too?—”

The phone is snatched out of my hand, and the call is disconnected before I have a chance to say goodbye.

I bite down on the inside of my cheek to stop myself from breaking as the man powers down the phone and slips it back into his pocket before walking out and leaving me alone with my guilt .

I crawl onto the lumpy mattress and hug my knees to my chest, my body too exhausted to cry any more.

What if that was the last time I ever hear his voice? What if I never get to tell him I love him again?

“I’m sorry, Marco.”

I don’t mean to fall asleep, but exhaustion eventually pulls me under. I dream of Marco and Zoe, but they soon turn to nightmares as I picture them lying in pools of their own blood with bullet holes in their chests.

I jerk awake, covered in sweat and gasping for air.

The light bulb overhead flickers one last time before going out completely, plunging the room into complete darkness.

I have no idea how much time has passed. Marco could already be here, but I hope for his sake he isn’t.

My stomach is painfully empty, and my throat is parched, but that’s the least of my problems.

Footsteps sound outside the door once again, and I brace myself for the man to reappear, to tell me that Marco and Zoe are dead and that I’m next.

If that’s the case, then let them take me. Without them, I have nothing left to live for.

The door creaks open, and the room floods with light.

I squint at the outline of the figure standing in the doorway, but he looks too broad to be the older man who took my phone.

It must be one of the men from the cabin, but when he steps into the room and I finally get a look at his face, I realize it’s someone else entirely. Someone I haven’t seen in years.

My stomach drops as I stare into a pair of green eyes that are identical to my own .

“Ben?” I whisper.

My brother tilts his head as his lips curve into a slow, deliberate smile. “Hey, Clara.”

And just like that, the last piece of my world shatters.

TO BE CONTINUED

Marco and Clara’s story continues in Ruthless Vengeance .