Chapter 5: The Kidnapping

VITTORIA'S POV

Every now and then I go into the forest for a few weeks, I like the stregth of being able to survive alone in the wild, I like the way the forest spoke to me the way the forest never lied to me.

People lied. Trees don't. Wind don't. The earth always told the truth if you knew how to listen.

I moved through the undergrowth without sound, boots barely disturbing the damp soil. My breathing was controlled, even, timed to my steps. I’d been out here since dawn; tracking, hunting, surviving. This was where my mind was sharpest. Where the noise of the world faded and instinct took over.

I didn’t train to feel strong.

I trained to be strong.

I spotted the first sign almost immediately; branches snapped at shoulder height. Too careless. Too loud. I slowed, lowering myself behind a fallen log, eyes scanning.

There were men in my forest. Not lost. Not foolish. Deliberate.

Interesting.

I adjusted my grip on my knife and continued forward, letting them think they were unseen. Men always believed silence belonged to them. They mistook my stillness for ignorance.

I counted footsteps. Eight. No, ten. Spread too wide for hunting, too coordinated for coincidence.

They were here for me.

The first came at me from the left. I pivoted, blade flashing, slashing across his forearm before he could grab me. He cried out. Amateur. I drove my knee into his ribs and shoved him backward into a tree hard enough to knock the breath from him.

The second rushed me head-on. I ducked, rolled, came up behind him and cracked my elbow into the base of his skull. He dropped.

The third almost caught me. Almost.

I broke his fingers when he grabbed my wrist, twisted his arm until his shoulder dislocated. He screamed.

I didn’t.

I never screamed. Pain was information. Fear was optional.

More of them poured in, cautious now. Smarter. Guns raised, voices barking orders I ignored. I disarmed one, shot another through the thigh—not lethal, just enough to slow him. I moved constantly, never letting them surround me.

Then I felt it.

The prick at my neck.

Too late.

I spun, slamming my fist into the man behind me, felt cartilage give beneath my knuckles—but the damage was done. Heat spread through my veins, thick and heavy. My limbs resisted me. The forest tilted.

Sedative.

Cowards.

I forced myself to stay upright, fighting the fog creeping into my vision. Someone grabbed me. I broke his nose with my head. Another restrained my arms. I twisted, bit, struck—kept my eyes open as long as I could.

I would remember their faces.

I always did.

The ground rushed up to meet me, darkness closing in from the edges. The last thing I saw was the canopy of trees blurring together as my body finally betrayed me.

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I woke to the sound of an engine.

My head throbbed dully, my mouth dry. I didn’t move right away. Moving too soon gave information away. Instead, I listened.

A van. Tires on gravel. Two men in the front. One beside me.

And the familiar, infuriating presence across from me.

“Good. You’re awake.”

Stefano.

I opened my eyes slowly and met his gaze. My hands were bound, but not tightly. He wanted me conscious. Wanted me aware.

I said nothing.

“You always were stubborn,” he continued, leaning back. “You made this harder than it needed to be.”

I tilted my head, studying him. His breathing was shallow. His leg bounced slightly. He was Nervous.

Interesting.

“You belong to me,” he said. “Always have.”

I smiled. Just barely.

“No,” I said calmly. “I belong to no one.”

His jaw tightened. “You’ve been promised,” he snapped. “An alliance. A marriage. This is bigger than you.”

I laughed softly. “You’re giving me away,” I said. “Because you’re afraid.”

His face darkened. “I’m saving the family.”

“You’re a coward,” I replied. “And I will kill you.”

He stared at me for a long moment, then scoffed. “You won’t get the chance.”

The van slowed. Gravel crunched beneath the tires.

I memorized the turns. The timing. The distance.

He stood and knocked once on the wall separating us from the driver. “We’re here.”

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The gates were massive. Gold-tipped iron, high enough to deter anything foolish enough to challenge them head-on. Armed men everywhere. Disciplined. Alert.

I didn’t fight when they dragged me out.

Fighting was wasteful when you didn’t yet understand the terrain.

Instead, I observed.

Men training in the distance; twelve, maybe fifteen. Automatic weapons. Real drills. Guard rotations every thirty seconds. Cameras on the corners of the buildings, blind spots carefully minimized. Vehicles parked in rows, too many for simple household use.

This wasn’t a home.

It was a fortress.

They took me through the east wing. I noted the color of their shirts, dark grey, all of them. Insignia stitched on the shoulder. Clean boots. Professionals. Not Stefano’s men.

So this was who he’d sold me to.

We passed locked doors, long corridors, reinforced walls. I counted steps between turns. I listened for echoes. Memorised smells. Oil. Stone. Metal.

They shoved me into a room and the door slammed shut behind me with a final, echoing clang.

Steel.

Bars on the windows. No glass to break. No immediate weaknesses.

I stood still as the silence settled around me.

No screaming. No crying.

Those were for people who wanted to be saved.

I wanted to escape.

I sat on the bed slowly before laying down on the bed and closing my eyes, conserving energy, listening to the distant rhythm of the estate, the guards’ footsteps, the faint clink of metal, the hum of power.

They thought they’d taken me.

They thought I was merchandise.

They were wrong.

No one broke me.

I broke them.

And when the time came, I would dismantle this place piece by piece and I will start with the man who believed he owned me.