Chapter 4: *****

The gold-trimmed handles of the massive double doors didn't even budge when I threw my weight against them. Locked from the outside. I whirled around, staring at the ridiculous bedroom they had shoved me into. It was twice the size of my entire apartment, with a king-sized bed, plush white carpets, and heavy silk curtains covering the windows. It smelled like expensive lavender and fresh paint, but it felt exactly like what it was. A high-end cell.

I paced the floor, my boots sinking into the carpet, my mind racing through every second of the nightmare that had started just hours ago.

The sudden vibration against my thigh made me jump. I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my phone. The screen lit up with a contact photo that brought a sudden, painful lump to my throat.

Bianca.

My fingers shook as I swiped the screen and pressed the phone to my ear. "Bianca?"

"Val! Oh my god, thank heaven you answered!" Bianca’s voice blasted through the speaker, high-pitched and breathless with pure panic. "Where the hell are you? Are you okay?"

"I'm... I'm fine," I lied, my throat tightening so hard it physical hurt to get the words out. I forced a fake laugh, pacing toward the far corner of the room. "Why are you sounding so crazy? What's going on?"

"Don't give me that garbage, Valentina!" Bianca snapped, her voice cracking. "I went to your place. I wanted to drop off that graduation scrapbook I finished for you. The entire front door is lying in the middle of your living room floor, Val! There is shattered glass everywhere, the couch is overturned, and there is literally fresh blood smeared all over the rug!"

I squeezed my eyes shut, a single tear slipping down my cheek. I choked it back, biting my lip until I could taste copper. "Bianca, listen to me. It’s not what it looks like. I'm okay. Seriously."

"Not what it looks like?" Bianca raised her voice, sounding on the verge of hysterics. "It looks like a crime scene! I was literally about to dial 911 when your phone finally rang through. Tell me right now what happened or the cops are rolling to your building in thirty seconds!"

"No! Don't call the police!" I practically screamed into the receiver, my heart stopping at the thought of what Damiano’s men would do to my dad if the cops got involved. "Do not call them, Bianca. Please. Just breathe for a second."

"Then start talking!" Bianca demanded. "Why is your apartment destroyed? Where are you right now?"

I took a deep, ragged breath, trying to make my voice sound like the twenty-two-year-old girl who had just graduated college hours ago, not a hostage who had just signed her life away in blood.

"I met someone," I said, the lie tasting like ash on my tongue. "A guy. A really, really rich guy."

"A guy?" Bianca repeated, her tone dropping into deep skepticism. "You met a guy who kicks your front door off its hinges and leaves blood on your floor? Are you out of your mind, Val? What kind of lie is that?"

"It wasn't him who broke the door!" I scrambled, my brain working at a million miles an hour to piece together something believable. "It was... an accident. My dad had some bad people over, they got into a fight, and things got out of hand. But this guy... he stepped in. He settled everything. He took care of my dad’s mess, and he brought me to his place to keep me safe. I moved out, Bianca. Suddenly. That’s all."

"You moved out in the middle of the night? Without your clothes? Without your laptop? Without telling your best friend of four years?" Bianca’s voice was completely flat now, all the panic hardening into sharp, aggressive disbelief. "Val, you are the worst liar on the planet. I know your 'scared voice' and you are absolutely terrified right now. Who is this guy? Give me a name."

"I can't," I whispered, leaning my forehead against the cold glass of the window, staring out into the pitch-black darkness of the grounds below. "Just trust me, B. I'm safe. I'm in a nice place. I'm going to be fine."

"Val, stop lying to me," Bianca whispered through the line, her tone suddenly dropping into a chilling, quiet seriousness that made the hairs on my arms stand up.

"I'm not lying"

"Shut up and listen to me," Bianca interrupted, her voice trembling but fast. "When I saw the apartment, I didn't just stand there. I ran down to the security booth on the corner. You know Marcus, the night guard? I gave him fifty bucks to let me look at the street camera footage from eleven o'clock."

My breath hitched. "Bianca, don't look into this. Delete whatever you have. Please."

"I’m looking at the security footage from the street camera right now on my tablet," Bianca said, completely ignoring my plea. Her voice was shaking so violently I could hear her teeth chattering against the phone. "I watched them drag your dad out. I saw them put you into a black SUV. I ran the license plates through my cousin's database at the precinct, Val. Those plates belong to a shell corporation owned by the Moretti family."

The name didn't mean anything to me, but the sheer terror in Bianca's voice told me everything I needed to know.

"The Moretti family?" I whispered. "Who are they?"

"They run the entire underworld on the East Coast, Val!" Bianca hissed, her voice dropping to a frantic, terrified whisper. "They aren't just rich guys. They are brutal, faceless killers. Whoever has you... you are in serious danger. You need to run right now. Break a window, find a back door, do whatever you have to do, but get the hell out of there before"

The phone was violently ripped from my hand.

I gasped, spinning around so fast my heels skidded on the plush carpet.

Damiano stood right behind me. I hadn't heard the doors open. I hadn't heard a single footstep. He looked exactly as he had in the office, his dark hair immaculate, but the top button of his shirt was now undone, and his black eyes were locked directly onto mine with a cold, terrifying intensity.

He held my buzzing phone in his large hand, his thumb instantly coming down on the screen to cut Bianca off mid-sentence. The screen went completely black.

"Hey!" I yelled, lunging forward to grab it back. "Give that back to me! That's my phone!"

Damiano didn't even flinch. He simply raised his arm, holding the device completely out of my reach, using his massive height to tower over me. He stared down at me, his jaw clenched tight, his face a mask of absolute authority.

"The rules just changed, Valentina," Damiano said, his deep voice sending a fresh spike of adrenaline straight through my chest.