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With one last look at them both, I exit through the secret door, calling Christopher -who went to my penthouse to drop off our luggage - on my way to make sure he is waiting for me somewhere out of view from the Russians.
***
Within an hour, I have over a hundred of my men ready to storm the warehouse my wife is still being held in. No one was more surprised than me that they have kept her at the same location, but checking the tracker every couple of minutes, confirms it. I don’t know whether it’s a good or bad thing, but I’m trying to be positive. If I think about any bad that could be happening, I am going to lose my shit and burn down the whole fucking city with everyone in it. And that’s simply not conducive to my plans.
I haven’t heard from Dante, and I can only assume he is still dealing with whatever is going on at my club. Though I have checked in with my mamma, to make sure everything is okay at home, I haven’t told her what is going down in the city. It will only panic both her and my sister and right now, I have enough shit to deal with.
Christopher speeds toward Port Authority. We have a convoy of SUVs behind and in front of us, all ready for what comes next. All ready for a war that we have no choice but to win. I don’t know what I am going into, or what I am leading my men into, but they will follow my orders and do what they are trained to do. Lives will most likely be lost today, regardless of how prepared we are. It doesn’t matter how many men or how much gun power we have, the Russians have clearly been planning this and right now they have the advantage because they hold one of the most precious things in my life in their hands.
Ocean.
Nonetheless, I will get my wife back.
And the people who dared take her from me will die today. I will make sure it is slow, and that they feel the soul crushing pain that I am feeling right now with the absence of my heart.
They may think they have won.
But this is only the beginning.
Vadim is as good as dead.
That’s a promise.
Chapter39
Ocean
Blood drips from the corner of my mouth where my father hit me. I would like to say I’m shocked by the easy way he attacked me, but then I would be a liar. Abuse comes second nature to him, is part of his identity. And he will never change. Once a monster, always a monster.
I don’t want to show weakness in front of him, but I can’t deny that I am terrified. I fear what he may do to me and how far he will go to punish me for running away. For ruining his plans for me. I would like to think he has limits, but at this point I don’t think he has any. I can only be thankful that my son is far away from whatever is about to happen. There is no doubt in my mind that he would harm Romeo, just to punish me. The man is a monster in every way, one that won’t stop until he gets what he feels he is owed.
Pure dread slithers through my veins, a shudder wracking my body just thinking about it. I glance around at my surroundings, at the room I’m being held in, and it only heightens my panic. I have no clue as to where I am, but the large space is empty apart from a small table in the corner. From looking at the interior of the building, it looks like I am in a commercial building of some sort. Maybe a warehouse? Where it is or how much time has passed since I was taken, I don’t know. I just pray with everything in me that Nico got away from the club safely and is doing everything in his power to find me.
“Tsk, tsk, dear daughter. I hear that you have not only gone and fucked away your virginity - something that belonged to another man - but you also stupidly went and got yourself knocked up andmarried. Fucking married. You were supposed to be Xavier’s wife by now. You ruined all my plans,” he seethes, slapping me across the face. My head jerks to the side, pain exploding through my face, but I don’t let him see it. Glancing up at him, I shrink into myself at the look of pure disdain and evil in his eyes.
It’s funny, though really not humorous at all given my current predicament, but the fact I can go toe to toe with someone like Nico – the head of the damn Mafia - but wither in my own father’s presence tells you exactly the kind of man he is.
“Fuck you,” I spit, mustering every bit of strength I have into those two words. My insolence does as I thought it would and I am rewarded with another punch to the face. It’s harder this time, a clear sign that he is going to lose his shit completely. My head snaps back, excruciating pain shooting through my whole head. Fuck, that hurt.
His chilling, wicked laugh seeps into my bones, turning my blood cold. “You won’t be fuckingme, dear daughter, but you will be fucking your new husband. Despite your insubordination and errant ways, the Andersons have agreed to still take you on. Though I can’t promise Xavier will treat you well once he knows the extent of your betrayals, I have assured him that I will train you how I see fit. And that is with Mr. Mikhailov. He is going to mold you into the perfect trophy wife for Xavier. He will break you in every way possible, until you are a shell of yourself and the only word that you know and will come out of your dirty mouth is yes. He will teach you how to spread your legs for Xavier, how to fuck him like the good little whore you are and thank him for it. You will learn to smile when you are on his arm like the flawlesswallpaperwife you were supposed to be. And you will not disappoint me this time, Emilee, or so help me God,” he finishes.
“Myhusbandwill kill you,” I mutter weakly, knowing full well that I am grasping at straws. At this point I don’t know if Nico is even alive. My chest constricts, bile climbing in my throat and tears pricking my eyes at the thought. I refuse to live in a world where Nico doesn’t exist.
My father cackles like a bad movie villain. “Oh, Emilee. Your husband, or should I say, ex-husband, is most likely dead. He cannot save you.”
My fists ball, but before I can respond, the door is shoved open. My head snaps up, eyes locking on the three men that enter the room. The man that is two steps in front of the others is clearly the boss, though I have no idea who any of them are. My heart rate picks up when his intimidating gaze flicks to me. His lips curve into a smirk, eyes raking up and down my body in a way that makes me feel sick.
“I see you have had a little fun, Samuel.” The statement is spoken in a thick accent; one I don’t recognize but sounds Eastern European maybe.
My gaze shifts to my father who grins devilishly. “I did Vadim. Thank you for bringing my daughter back to me.” Vadim? Who the hell is Vadim? Is this the Mr. Mikhailov he has assigned to break me? Fear like I have never felt ignites inside me. Please no.
“It was my pleasure.” His eyes spark with something I can’t decipher. I swallow, wondering what this man’s intentions are. He focuses his attention back on my dad. “We need to move. The club is gone, but I do not know if Mr. Marchetti made it out or not. We can’t risk him finding us if he is alive.” A sob bursts from my throat at the mention of my husband. I pull at the rope, knowing it won’t achieve anything but willing to try all the same. I freeze when the man I now know is called Vadim chuckles darkly. “Sweetheart, your effort to escape is impressive but there is no point. You will not get out of here.” Humor laces his accented voice.
“Please. You don’t know what you’re doing. Whatever my father is paying you, my husband will pay more.” I plead with him, hoping and praying with everything in me I can get through to this man.
“I am sure he would.” The smile that twitches at his lips has me shrinking into myself. It is downright scary. “But there is no point in you begging. The deal is done. I am going to have fun with you, little girl,” he says cryptically, but I know what he means. My heart stalls. Without saying it, he has confirmed he is Mr. Mikhailov.
“Please.” I cry, past caring that I’m showing weakness.
