LOGINPaetyn’s POV
For a split second, my brain convinces me I’m blind. Darkness surrounds me, engulfing me whole and holding me hostage. But the soft buzzing working its way into the depths of my mind tells me that I haven’t been completely dragged down to the depths of hell with no sight of return.
Not yet, at least.
My head thumps painfully, the source coming from deep behind my eyes. The rhythmic movement echoes in my ears, making it hard to think straight. I try my best to force my hand up to cradle my head, hoping it’ll ease the pain, but my limbs are heavy. Too heavy to move.
With a groan, I fight against the pain coursing through my body to force my eyes open. At first, it’s almost painful. My eyelids feel as though they’ve been glued shut, keeping me from seeing. But with a great deal of effort, I pry them open and am immediately assaulted by a warm, orange glow above me.
A hiss slips past my lips as I fight to clear my vision. The sudden intrusion of light hitting my eyes only intensifies the pounding in my skull. Everything hurts.
But why?
Why does my body feel as though it’s on fire and weighs as much as a cement truck?
My limbs seem to be working now because I’m able to bring my elbow under me to prop my body up. I blink rapidly to clear my vision and focus on calming my heavy breathing. When my surroundings become clear, my heart rate spikes all over again.
Where the hell am I?
With my heart in my throat, I gaze down at the thin white sheets wrapped haphazardly around my jean-clad legs. The mattress beneath me is dirty and has seen better days. What shocks me the most is the thick chain cuffed around my ankle, keeping me a hostage of the twin bed. The metal is rusted and looks as though it has been around for many years.
The sleeves of my long-sleeved blouse are rolled up to my elbows, exposing me to the chill in the air. Out of the corner of my eye, I find the coat I was wearing when I left work folded neatly on the floor.
My eyes snap up to gaze around the rest of the room lit only by a single bulb hanging overhead. I fear if I make any sudden movements, whoever brought me here will come barging into the room. The boarded-up window above the small bed I lie on is almost mocking me—a reminder that it’s my only way of escaping this small room.
Heavy breathing sounds from across the room, and at that moment, my heart almost slams through my rib cage. Without so much as moving a muscle, I drag my eyes away from the window to the single chair situated in the corner opposite the bed, beside the only door to the room.
The masked man I have been seeing the past few days sits in the black leather chair silently, his long legs spread out in front of him. He’s so silent as he regards me, his hands clasped together in his laip. I feel his gaze upon me from behind the barrier he uses to keep his identity hidden.
A cold chill races down my spine. Just like every other time I have encountered him.
I open my mouth to speak, but the words get caught in my dry throat, unable to make their escape. My throat works to relieve the dryness as I swallow hard. I’m unable to take my eyes off the masked man for fear that if I let him out of my sight, he might attack.
“Wh-who are you?” My voice is small, barely above a whisper. But he heard me. The slight tilt of his head gives him away. “Why d-did you take me?”
The memory of him cornering me in the alleyway on my way home from work blasts through my mind like a home movie, replaying the moment he caught me, his strong arms wrapped tightly around my waist as he dragged me into the depths of darkness I couldn’t escape.
I had no real chance of getting away from him. But I had hoped someone would save me. Anyone. And now I’m here, chained to a bed, while he watches me intently, not saying a goddamn word.
“Please let me go home.” My hands shake more and more with each word. I manage to push myself into a seated position, ignoring the way my bones creak with the simple movement. “I have a fiance who will be looking for me.”
The masked man snorts, the sound deep, but doesn’t say anything. He just stares at me, inky curls spilling around from the behind the mask. Waiting. Watching. The silence is almost suffocating, squeezing my lungs so tightly I’m unable to force air into my lungs.
What does he want from me?
Who the hell is this man?
Dampness stings the hairs in my nostrils, and I have to force back a gag at the terrible scent. The room smells wet like it’s been flooded previously and the odor hasn’t been removed. It’s a vast contrast to the floral candles I burn every night at home because Liam says he likes the light fragrance.
Liam.
Oh, God. I’m sure he’s worried sick about me. At least, I hope he is. When I was taken from the alleyway, Raya was still on the phone, so I’m sure she has informed Liam about what happened. He would have gone to the police right away when I didn’t come home. I’m sure of it.
Knowing that people are out there searching for me gives me a small moment of comfort. But it’s ruined by the masked man staring silently at me. The muscles in his biceps flex slightly as if he’s clenching his fists momentarily. Despite the slight chill in the air, he’s still wearing a black T-shirt with his black jeans. It’s as if the cold doesn’t affect him at all.
“Are you doing this for ransom?” I ask, my voice raspy. My heart pounds in my chest with each second ticking by without hearing a single word from my kidnapper. “Are you going to kill me? Sell me into sex trafficking? What do you want from me?”
Panic seeps into my pores at the thought of either of those scenarios happening. This could go either way; I could live, or I could die, and the thought of the latter terrifies me.
What if I don’t make it home alive?
The masked man keeps his mouth shut. He stands from the chair and cracks his knuckles, his eyes searing into my skin from behind the mask. At the sight of the scars on his knuckles—an indicator that he uses his fists quite a bit—I cower against the metal frame headboard, hoping it’ll put some distance between us.
But instead of moving in my direction, he turns to the door, unlocks the latch, and steps through it. When the door closes behind him, I hear what sounds like a lock clicking into place, trapping me inside.
Even though my head is spinning and my limbs are heavy, I know this might be one of my only chances to find an escape route. He could come back with a decision about my fate—one that doesn’t allow me to see the light of morning. I take this moment of silence as an opportunity to spring from the bed.
The wooden floorboards squeak beneath the weight of my feet. I cringe at the sound, hoping the masked man didn’t hear it from wherever he has gone. I could be locked in a little cabin in the middle of the woods or a basement in a house on a suburban street. The possibilities are endless. Either way, I need to get the hell out of here.
I try to explore the space around the twin bed, but the chain around my ankle only lets me get so far before I’m helpless to move anywhere else. But the small give in the chain does allow me to inspect the window above the bed. It’s boarded up with old planks of wood, not allowing so much as a sliver of light to peek through it. Which means I’m unable to inspect the surroundings outside.
“Goddamn it,” I groan, frustration prickling my skin. “This is useless.”
The lock on the door sliding open sends my heart plummetingskyrocketing to the bottom of my feet. I whirl around just in time to see the masked man entering the room with a tray of food. The scent of cold deli ham wafts through the air, mixing with the damp smell. The odor of food instantly makes my stomach growl with hunger, reminding me I have no idea what day it is or how long I’ve gone without eating.
He sets the tray on the end of the mattress with easy strides before turning to stand in front of the closed door. I feel his eyes on me as he clasps his hands together in front of him, his body straight and rigid.
I look between him and the ham sandwich and bottle of water on the tray. “Is that for me?”
He doesn’t so much as give me a nod, but the tilt of his head is answer enough.
I eye the bottle of water, desperate to quench the thirst clawing at my throat. The thought that he could have slipped some sort of drug into the water crosses my mind. But as much as I would like to deny his offer of food purely so I can keep my senses about me, the violent growl of my stomach gives me away.
I’m starving and thirsty. And if I want to keep my energy up to have a fighting chance of escaping this room, I need to get something in me.
My body vibrates with nerves as I lower onto the edge of the mattress. The sandwich shakes slightly in my trembling hands as I bring it to my mouth. I don’t bother inspecting the food before I take a bite. The moment the ham and cheese touch my taste buds, I’m unable to stop myself from taking large bites, desperate to fill the ache in my stomach. He’s added lettuce, mayo, and tomato, too, as if he knows how I like my ham sandwiches. Lucky guess.
With each bite I take, I feel my kidnapper’s intense gaze searing a hole into my skin. It sends a shiver down my spine.
I wish I knew what he was thinking or why he brought me here in the first place. Not knowing what’s going to happen to me is a terrifying feeling. He could do whatever he wanted to me in the blink of an eye, and I wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. But instead, he’s watching me eat the food he offered, not saying a single word.
It’s unnerving, really.
Within two minutes, the sandwich is gone and the bottle of water is mostly empty. Eating so fast has given me a stomachache, but it’s better than the feeling of being hungry. Even though I’m still thirsty, I know I need to preserve the water for as long as possible since I don’t know if he’s going to give me more or not.
He steps forward to collect the tray with his tattooed arm. Instinct has me scrambling back on the bed, my eyes fixed on every tiny movement he makes.
He stands to his full height, towering over me with the red tray gripped firmly in his hands. Just when I think he’s going to turn around and leave, an unexpected deep voice sounds from behind the Halloween-esque mask that sends a shiver down my spine.
“Don’t even think about trying to escape. You won’t get far.”
PaetynI’m shoved sideways into the backseat, my shoulder slamming into the door hard enough to knock the air out of me. My body folds awkwardly, my knees hitting the seat in front of me as hands force me down. The door slams. Locks click, sharp, final sounds that make my chest seize. The engine roars, and before I can orient myself, rough hands grab my face and pull fabric tight over my eyes, blindfolding me. I don’t know who they are or who sent them. I saw their faces in the apartment long enough to know I don’t recognize either of them, and now I’m trapped in a car with them with no idea what they want from me or how far they’re willing to go to get it. I don’t even know how this happened. Ace was so careful.I keep replaying the moment before everything went wrong. I told Raya not to order takeout. I told her we couldn’t answer the door for anyone. We were hungry, sure, but hunger doesn’t kill you. There was nothing in the apartment except a bruised apple and half a sleeve of cr
AceIt’s midnight when I pull into Enzo’s driveway, the mansion lit up enough to see every window. I step out of the car fully armed. I’m prepared for Enzo to be here because if someone managed to post bail for him, he’ll be sitting in his house, thinking he’s untouchable. I’m ready for anything as I move toward the front door, and when I step inside, I see several members of the gang have already arrived. One of the men calls my name, then another, not in challenge but in greeting. They speak about the raid, about the cops I took out, and about how I got away with my woman. I listen, letting them say what they need to say. In their world, honor is earned, and what I did matters. I did what had to be done, and they saw it.I raise my hand and bring the room to quiet. “I appreciate your loyalty. Now, if anyone gets word that Enzo is getting out on bail,” I say, “I need to know immediately. If anyone helps him, moves money, makes calls, or does anything to get him free, they will answ
AcePaetyn’s breathing evens out, her head resting on my chest, and I can feel the tension in her body fading. She’s finally asleep. I roll over and out of bed, taking careful steps, making sure not to wake her, and reach for my clothes. The bunker is quiet, the only sound the buzz of the surveillance monitors. I get dressed quickly and slip my phone into my pocket.The door is heavy as I push it open into the cold night air. A few steps away from the bunker, I raise the phone and hunt for a signal. The screen flickers; finally, two bars. I make the call, my voice low, the conversation brief: logistics, timing, and location. I end it and pocket the phone, scanning the surrounding darkness. No movement, no unexpected eyes. Good.I slip back inside the bunker, lock the door, and settle into the recliner. Paetyn remains asleep, the monitors casting a glow across the room. I keep my eyes on the screens, switching between camera feeds. The night is long, but I don’t let myself drift. Every
PaetynThe boat tears across the water with the engine roaring, the shoreline blurring into a dark smear of trees and shadows. My hands are numb where I grip the seat.“Where are we going?” I shout over the wind.Ace doesn’t look at me at first. His eyes are locked forward. Then, he flicks me a backward glance. “Enzo has an underground bunker in the woods not far from here. If we get there before anyone else,” he continues, “we can lock it down. There are surveillance cameras inside that show the full perimeter. We’ll know if anyone comes looking for us. We’ll be safe.”Safe. I cling to the word as the boat slams over a wave, making my stomach lurch. Suddenly, the dock appears out of the dark near a narrow stretch of wood that juts into the water. Ace turns the engine off, momentum carrying us in. The boat bumps the edge with a hollow thud.“Listen to me,” he says, grabbing my arm. His grip is firm but not rough. “I need you to hide in the woods just off the path. Stay low. Don’t move
PaetynMy pizza sits chilling on the coffee table as the words from the news anchor echo in my mind, even though the broadcast has moved on to the next story. I remember the fragments: “Liam Aster… body… found…” Liam’s dead, and I feel incredible relief. He’s gone. He’ll never show up again. I no longer need to fear what he’s going to pull next. I didn’t realize how much of my thoughts had been taken up by him until now.But as soon as that relief settles, fear takes over. Ace killed him. What will happen now? What does this mean for him and for us? Liam’s end is just the beginning. I glance over at Ace. He’s leaning against the kitchen counter, his phone pressed to his ear, with his eyes narrowed in concentration. He’s talking to someone from the Gambino crew, probably giving orders and organizing his next move. I can’t hear the specifics of the conversation, but I know it’s about Enzo’s fall–and Ace’s rise to power. “Yeah, round up the guys,” Ace says, moving close enough for me
AceI pull one of Enzo’s cars into the alley behind the Lion’s Den and cut the engine. Sunday night is the only night Enzo’s club is closed, and no one’s around. I hear Liam shifting in the back seat, trying to get free like a cornered rat. I keep my gloved hands on the wheel for a moment longer, letting the tension build and making him understand that I’m in control. This is my duty alone, and I wouldn’t allow anyone else to touch this job. I’m defending Paetyn’s honor, getting revenge, and taking over Enzo’s operation all in one go. “Where are we going?” Liam’s voice is tight and nervous. He tries to sound calm, but I can hear the panic in his voice. “Somewhere quiet,” I say, not looking back at him. “You’ll see.”He swallows so hard I hear it and then tries desperately to hide his fear. “You don’t have to do this, Ace. I can—”I cut him off. “You made your fucking choices. Now it’s time to face them.”I step out of the car, open the rear door, and drag him out. I lead him to the







