Past – September 2014
The courtyard is empty as I step out of the building. I’ve just finished a late class, and I’m exhausted, but I still need to head over to my fathers for a family meeting before going out to do a few jobs for him.
I’ve only been back in school for a couple of weeks and the workload is already piling up.
He’d probably get someone else to deal with my responsibilities for the family if he knew how overworked I was, but I refuse to let someone take over for me. Besides, he’d probably start asking questions and looking into my schedule, and that’s the last thing I need.
I don’t want him to find out about Sloane.
How we’ve managed to keep our relationship a secret for over six months, I have no idea. There’s been a few times that we’ve come close to getting caught, but still somehow managed to keep it just between us. I haven’t even told Luca about her, and he’s usually the one person who knows everything that’s going on in my life.
I do feel bad lying to him, which is why I’ve distanced myself from him over the last couple of months. I’d rather not see him than have to be around him and lie about what I’ve been doing.
I also fucking hate the fact that Sloane is my dirty little secret and that I’m hers.
She should never be a secret.
But when it comes to either keeping her safe or having a public relationship, I’ll choose her safety each and every time.
I head towards the parking lot, ignoring the few students I pass along the way. They know who I am, and I’ve split them into two categories.
The ones who are so terrified of my family that they avoid me at all costs.
And the ones who think my family’s line of work is something exciting and try to get close to me for either my money, status, or for an adrenaline rush.
Both are fucking idiots.
I come to class, do my work, and leave.
I honestly don’t think I’ve had an actual conversation with another student in the two years I’ve been here, and that’s exactly the way I like it.
I’m just about to reach my car when I see someone come up behind me from the corner of my eye. I spin around and reach for my gun, only I’m not quick enough. Something blunt hits the side of my head and sparks of pain blur my vision, not letting me see my attacker before a feeling of dread churns in my gut and the world turns black.
I wake up to hushed voices filling the air. It takes me a moment to remember where I am and what happened.
I blink my eyes open to find myself in some sort of warehouse. It looks similar to the ones my family owns, but I know that can’t be possible. I attempt to move, but my body is too heavy. I glance down to find myself strapped to a chair and the voices have disappeared.
Huh.
There’s no way in fuck someone managed to get me in here and strapped to this chair after only a hit to the head. Whoever took me must have drugged me, too.
I make sure to keep my expression passive despite the panic brewing inside me, conscious of who could be watching. I glance around, but I appear to be alone. Still, there could be cameras.
My hands are tied behind the chair while my ankles are tied to the legs of the chair. There’s also rope wrapped around my waist, keeping me secure. Whoever it is that is keeping me here seems to know what they’re doing, because there’s no way I can get out of this without some sort of knife or blade.
Growing up, as inhumane as it sounds, our father used to tie us to a chair and time us getting out of it. I was always the quickest between me and my brother. Our dad always wanted us to be prepared for what could happen in the future and taught us everything he could to try and keep us safe. I was always good at staying stoic and escaping. The issue is, there wouldn’t normally be this much fucking rope.
Clearly, the universe couldn’t do me a solid and have me kidnapped by an amateur.
The clanging of a metal door has my attention snapping to my surroundings, but I don’t let it show. Seconds later, two men come in, dragging a woman behind them. My gut drops when I see that blonde hair and those toned legs as they pull her further into the room and tie her to a beam in front of me. It isn’t until I get a closer look at her that I realize it isn’t Sloane, just a woman with the same her color and a similar build.
“Good evening, Mr. Romano,” a man says as he steps into the room. I look over to see my girlfriend’s father waltz into the space between me and the woman.
What the fuck is going on?
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, O’Brien?” I ask through clenched teeth.
The fucker smirks at me. “Did you really think that I wouldn’t find out about your relationship with my daughter?”
Bile crawls up my throat, but I don’t let it show.
Never let it show.
I keep my voice indifferent as I say, “I’d hoped you wouldn’t, but clearly we weren’t careful enough.”
He shakes his head. “You could have just fucked that little bitch and then moved on. But no, you had to go and what… fall for her?” He shakes his head again. “I couldn’t give two shits about her. I have my heir, so I have no use for her. But if anyone found out about the two of you? I’d have to declare war on your father, and we both know how that would end,” he grunts.
Yeah, it’d end with him six feet under. At least he can admit the truth, not many men in his position would.
I remain stoic while inwardly seething at the shit he’s saying about his daughter. About Sloane. About my fucking girl.
Showing my emotions won’t get me anywhere, so the best thing I can do is remain indifferent and hope I can figure a way out of here.
“And what do you think my father will do when he finds out you kidnapped his son?” I ask.
He barks out a laugh. “You won’t tell him. Don’t worry, you’re only tied up so you can’t get to me,” he says with a wave of his hand towards me. “You’re just here for a little… demonstration.” One of his men approaches the girl and she stares at me with wide eyes. Her cries are muffled since there’s tape across her mouth.
“Now, I know she doesn’t look exactly like my daughter, but she looks close enough. You, Marco, are going to sit there and watch as I torture this girl, and you’re going to picture my daughter as I do it. Afterwards, you’re going to break up with Sloane, never see her again, and you’ll never speak a word about what happened here tonight.”
Yeah, that ain’t gonna happen.
“I’ve already told you that I don’t care about what happens to my daughter, Mr. Romano,” he says with a grin. “And I won’t let her ruin my family’s reputation by betraying us to the fucking Italians. So if you don’t do what I ask, I’ll just have to repeat whatever I do on her.” He waves towards the girl. “And do it to Sloane.”
This fucker is threatening if I don’t break up with Sloane, he’ll kill her.
He’s fucking insane.
Most fathers would threaten to kill me, not their goddamn daughter.
Yet I can tell from that maniacal glint in his eye that he means every word he says.
If I don’t do as he says, he’ll actually kill her.
Resigned to my fate, I lift my chin in acceptance and he grins triumphantly.
The girl tied to the beam squirms, pure terror in her eyes as he approaches her. I wish like hell that I could do something to help her, but I can’t even help myself right now.
My family’s rule is that we don’t harm women or children. Unfortunately, not all of the other organizations are as progressive. They still see women and children as something to be used. A bargaining chip. A way to hurt the men who care for them.
It’s the twenty-first fucking century, and these other organizations are living like we’re still in the 1800s.
They don’t care about family values, only that they have an heir so they can keep their power. They care about wealth, they care about inflicting pain, and they care about their territories. They don’t give a fuck about anyone’s lives but their own.
There’s nothing I can do but sit and watch as Cormac O’Brien slides a knife across the girl’s cheek. He murmurs something to her, too quiet for me to hear, but by the way her eyes widen and her body trembles, I know he’s having no mercy on her. He won’t make this quick, and that’s all on me.
He’ll drag this out for as long as possible, all to teach me a lesson.
I knew mine and Sloane’s relationship would start trouble, and I had accepted that, but this is too fucking far.
This is inflicting unnecessary pain, torture, and death on an innocent.
The poor girl was probably just snatched off the street, just for sharing a resemblance to Sloane.
Yet I can’t stop that small part of me from being grateful that it’s this girl in her place. Because if I had to sit and watch this happen to Sloane, I’d lose my fucking mind. There would be no coming back from that.
Bile crawls up my throat as he begins slicing into her clothing, then into her skin. As much as I try to will the images away, his earlier words of me imagining the girl to be Sloane take root in my mind, and I can’t help but replace the girl’s face with hers.
I’ve been a part of my family’s… dealings for a few years now. I’ve tortured countless men and killed even more. Nothing has ever made me squeamish; nothing has ever had an effect on me. Until now. Until watching my girlfriend’s father slice the skin off a girl who shares similarities to his own daughter. His laughter booms off the concrete walls of the warehouse, drowning out her cries.
My skin itches with the need to do something, fucking anything, but it would be a fruitless task. There’s no escape.
I hold eye contact with her, sending her a silent apology that this is her fate.
If I could take her place, I would.
If there was a way—any way at all—for me to break free from this chair and save her, I would.
If there was a way for me to take her pain away, I would.
Her eyes begin to dull as O’Brien continues his assault and I know she doesn’t have much time left. She’s going to die, and that death will be on me.
I make a silent vow that once I leave this place, I’ll do everything I can for her family. I’ll figure out who she is, find her family, and make sure they get away from this goddamn city and away from the horrors it holds. It won’t make any of this right, it won’t take away the fact that she died because of me, but it’s the only thing I can do.
I’ll find them, right after I break Sloane’s heart.
And my own.
