Page 110

Jesus Christ, Jordyn. What have you done?

I jump as the door slams shut behind us, sealing the world out with a finality that makes my skin crawl.

Bianca is beside me, chest heaving, face pale and wide-eyed in the dark. Her wrists are scraped where they dragged her. Mine sting too, but I barely feel it, my pulse is hammering too hard, too loud, drowning out everything except the voice still echoing in my head.

“Stai attenta! Non deve farsi del male. Mi hai sentito?” Be careful. She is not to be harmed. Do you understand me?

Whoever he was, he sounded young, but sure. Like someone with orders. Like someone scared of what would happen if those orders weren’t followed.

I hold onto that thought like a lifeline.

Bianca lets out a ragged breath, her voice barely holding together. “Jordyn…” she whispers. “What’s happening? What the fuck is happening?”

“I don’t know,” I manage, though my own hands won’t stop shaking. “But we’re going to get out of this. We have to.”

One of the men cackles from the front seat, glancing back with a smirk. “You’re not getting out of anything, ragazza.”

I meet his eyes. “You would enjoy that smug little grin while you still have a tongue.”

He snorts and turns back around.

Bianca curls closer to me. “They’re going to kill us,” she chokes.

I press my hand to my stomach. Whether it’s fear or morning sickness, I don’t know, but the nausea is rising fast. Everything is rising, panic, rage, protectiveness that outweighs logic.

“No,” I say under my breath, less to her and more to myself. “No, they’re not. He’s coming. He’ll come for us.”

Bianca notices the way my hand lingers, and her fingers wrap around mine, tight and trembling.

“What do you think they’re going to do with us, Jord?”

I squeeze her hand back, my stomach turning as the SUV speeds into the dark. The road feels endless. So does the silence between threats.

“Nothing good,” I whisper. “I can promise you that much.”

The SUV jerks forward, tyres grinding over gravel. I try to steady my breathing, count the seconds, the turns, the time. Anything to give me a sense of direction.

Bianca shifts closer to me, eyes shining in the early morning sunlight. She leans in, whispers hoarsely, “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

I shake my head once, barely. My throat is tight. My voice even tighter. “No. I’m okay. Your lip is bleeding.”

She hesitates and swipes her tongue across the cut on her lip. “I’m fine… just a small cut.” Then she leans in closer, whispering again, urgent. “Who the fuck are these people. What do they want with us?”

The man in the front passenger seat barks something in Italian, cutting her off.

My spine stiffens.

That voice. It wasn’t the one who shouted before. This one is colder. More cunning.

I catch a glimpse of him in the rearview mirror. Sunglasses. A scar slicing through his left eyebrow. His mouth is a flat line. Silent and watching.

The driver mutters something under his breath. And then, another name drifts back to us, spoken low but sharp. “Nicolai.”

The blood in my vein ices over.

Did he just say Nicolai?

I know that name. Everyone in the Russo house knows that name. Whispers and tension. A ghost wrapped in roses and blood. A name that makes even Ares go still.

I glance at Bianca, whose expression has crumpled into something between dread and disbelief.

We’re not being taken by just anyone. We’re being taken by Nicolai Moretti .

And whatever reason he has for wanting me, I know it’s not going to be good.

I don’t know how much time passes by, but it feels like we’ve been driving forever. The engine hums steadily as the SUV speeds up, the scenery outside a blur of shadow and trees. I don’t know where we are anymore.

Panic claws at the back of my throat, but I shove it down and reach for the door handle anyway, just to check.

It doesn’t budge. It’s locked. Of course it is.

The man beside the driver lets out a low laugh, dark, condescending. “She thinks she can open the door and make a run for it,” he mutters in Italian. “Cute.”

Another voice from the back seat, behind us. “Let her try. Maybe she throws herself out and saves the boss the trouble.”

Bianca tenses beside me, but I turn slowly, fixing my eyes on the one who spoke.

“Laugh it up while you still can,” I say, my voice low and sharp, slicing through the tension. “Because when Ares comes for you, and trust me, he will, you’ll be choking on that laugh while he carves your throat out.”

The man snorts. “Ares Russo?” he says mockingly. “Il Mietitore? He’s too late, principessa. You’re not his to protect anymore.”

I tilt my head, forcing a calm I don’t feel.

“I will always be his. You don’t take what belongs to Ares Russo and live to talk about it.

Do you really think he won’t rip this world apart to find me?

” My lips curve, slow and razor-sharp. “If I know Ares, he’s already on his way and he’s bringing hell with him. ”

The laughter dies, just for a beat. One of them shifts uncomfortably.

Good. Let the fear start to sink in. Because I would hate to be in their shoes when Ares comes to collect.

Even I can feel it now… the tempest Ares will bring. The reckoning he’ll unleash.

I only pray he gets here in time.

I feel Bianca’s fingers curl around mine, grounding me as the SUV continues to barrel through dawn.

My hand had drifted to my stomach again, unconsciously, protectively.

I hadn’t even realised I was doing it until Bianca gently pries it away and holds it in her own.

“Don’t do that.” she whispers. “Don’t let them know. ”

Does it matter? Nickolai is going to kill me anyway and likely ship me back to Ares in pieces just to send a message.

God, the thought of it makes my stomach turn.

Not me dying, but the image of Ares finding pieces of me.

..of us. I lift my eyes to look at my sister when her thumb rubs over my knuckles. A silent reassurance.

Her voice is a whisper, nearly drowned out by the engine’s low growl and the casual Italian murmurs of our captors. “Do you really believe he will find us?”

I swallow hard, eyes fixed on the blur of the road as the sun begins to rise, drowning out the darkness. I nod, my fingers tightening around hers. “I do.” I have no choice but to .

Bianca doesn’t respond, but her grip doesn’t loosen and neither does mine.

Because the truth is, we both know the rules of this world now. The moment those men forced us into this car; we stopped being people.

We became leverage.

And if being with Ares has taught me anything, it’s that leverage never walks away untouched.

The car jolts as we hit a pothole, snapping me out of my spiralling thoughts.

One of the men in the front seat glances back, his dark eyes narrowing suspiciously, but I meet his gaze with a blank stare.

I’ve learned not to show fear. Fear is a currency they trade in, and I refuse to hand them a single bloody coin.

The silence stretches, thick and suffocating, broken only by the rhythmic hum of tires on asphalt.

My mind drifts to Ares again, to the storm that always brews behind his eyes.

He’s relentless, unstoppable, at least, that’s what I tell myself.

I cling to the memory of his voice, his promises whispered in the dark, as though they can shield me now.

Bianca shifts beside me, her breath hitching almost imperceptibly, and I know she’s thinking the same thing I am. Will we make it out of this? Will Ares find us before it’s too late? Or will we become another ugly chapter in the endless, blood-soaked ledger of his life?

I close my eyes briefly, forcing myself not to crumble under the weight of it all. I can’t afford to break, not for me and not for Bianca. The moment I falter is the moment they win. And Ares taught me that you never hand your enemy a victory, no matter how small.

The man driving mutters something in Italian, something I don’t catch, but the way the other one laughs makes my skin crawl. I shift in my seat, pulling Bianca closer without a word. She leans into me, her warmth the only tether I have left to this fragile hope.

The road ahead is endless, painted in hues of gold and crimson as the sun climbs higher, and I can’t help but wonder if we’ll see another dawn, or if this is the last one that will ever touch our faces.

The car slows, the tires crunching over loose gravel as the asphalt gives way to a secluded dirt road.

My pulse quickens, each beat like a sledgehammer against my ribcage.

Where the hell are we? I don’t know what I was expecting.

A warehouse maybe, but fucking hell, this is the kind of place you go when you don’t want to be found.

I press my hand to my abdomen, trying to steady the nausea rising like bile in my throat. Whether it’s from sheer terror or morning sickness, I don’t know. I don’t care.

The car jolts slightly as it stops. Doors slam. Footsteps crunch on gravel. The back door is yanked open and moonlight cuts through the darkness like a blade.

“Out. Now.”

Bianca squeezes my hand again. I swallow down the sour taste burning up my throat and force myself to move.

When I don’t make any movement to get out, he reaches for my arm, squeezing so hard it makes me hiss.

“Ow! Alright, I’m getting out. Get your fucking hands off me, you dickless swine.

” He glares at me...hard. You can tell by the way the vein on his forehead is throbbing that he’s fighting with every bit of restraint he possesses to not draw his gun and shoot me right here and now.

As I’m yanked from the car, my legs nearly buckle beneath me, the sudden weight of fear pressing into every joint. The cold night air lashes against my skin, waking every nerve like ice water down my spine.