Chapter 5

The smell of old motor oil and thick blood woke me up.

The hood was ripped from my head. I squinted against the harsh light.

An abandoned auto shop. Damp, moldy walls on all sides. The air was so cold it seeped into my bones.

Isla and I were tied back-to-back to two iron chairs welded to the floor.

My jacket was torn. The half-healed cuts on my knees and palms had ripped open again. Warm blood dripped from my fingertips onto the oily concrete.

The fever was burning me up. But my mind was like ice. Frighteningly clear.

Behind me, Isla’s muffled, broken sobs.

“Shut up, bitch! One more sound and I’ll blow your head off!” An Irishman with a scar across his face slammed his gun against a metal barrel.

It had been forty minutes since we were taken.

Just then, the screech of tires outside. The rusty roll-up door groaned open.

Two figures, soaked from the rain, strode in. Julian and my father. They dropped four heavy canvas duffel bags onto the concrete.

The moment she saw them, Isla shrieked. “Dad! Julian! Save me! I don’t want to die! Please, get me out of here!”

I said nothing. I didn’t move. I just watched the two men at the door.

“I brought the money.” My father's face, usually so arrogant, was tight and strained. “Let my daughters go. You Irish just want a toll. You don’t need an all-out war with the De Luca family.”

The scarred man laughed, kicked open a bag, and pried it open with his gun barrel.

It was full of old bills, but it wasn't nearly enough.

His eyes went cold. He kicked the bag over, scattering the cash. “Are you playing me, De Luca? The king of the New York underworld, controller of three major ports, and you can’t even scrape together twenty million in cash? What is this? You trying to buy off a beggar?!”

I looked at the money on the floor. A faint, mocking smile touched my lips.

My plan was working.

All of the family’s liquid assets, plus the Caldwell reserves, were completely tied up in that doomed port project. They were empty shells. Drained dry.

“We’ve had some… cash flow problems,” my father ground out, trying to hang on to his authority. “Take this as a deposit. Let them go. I’ll have the rest in your offshore account by tomorrow.”

“Bullshit!” The man raised his rifle, the barrel moving between my head and Isla’s. “On the street, you pay to play. You only brought enough for one. So you only get to buy one life.”

The air in the garage froze.

“Choose,” the man grinned, a cruel arc. “Are you taking home your precious, pampered princess? Or the unlucky bitch who’s about to go warm a Russian’s bed?”

“No! Dad! Julian! Save me!” Isla’s screams were hysterical, snot and tears smearing her face. “I have a heart condition, I’ll die here! Sister is tough, she can handle it! Please, choose me!”

I still didn’t say a word.

The burn on my shoulder and the sting in my hands were the only things keeping me anchored.

My father’s eyes darted between me and Isla. He didn’t even need three seconds to decide.

“Let Isla go,” he said, his eyes red, already making his excuses. “Aurora... I'm sorry. You grew up on the streets, you know how to survive. Isla is delicate. She's my daughter. In every way that counts. You just wait here. I swear I’ll get the money and come back for you tomorrow.”

I stared at him.

I was his flesh and blood.

But he chose the fake princess.

I turned my gaze to Julian.

The man who, just hours ago, wanted to give me a secret wedding and love me forever. His eyes were bloodshot.

He looked at my pale face, at the blood dripping from my fingers. He swallowed hard.

He was shaking, like he was being torn in two.

But finally, he spoke.

“Aurora… forgive me.” Julian’s fists were clenched so tight his nails drew blood. “I know it’s not fair, but you’re smart, you can survive this… Wait for me. I swear I will come back for you!”

Such hypocrites.

I was strong. So I got abandoned. She was weak. So she got saved. They knew exactly what it meant to leave me with these animals, but they could still lie to themselves so easily.

“Enough talk,” the scarred man sneered. He pulled out a knife and cut Isla’s ropes.

Isla scrambled free and threw herself into Julian’s arms.

He crushed her against him. He didn’t dare look at me again. He held her and rushed out of the garage, right behind my father.

The Irish killers slammed the roll-up door shut.

The last sliver of light vanished.