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She wouldn’t make me weak. I wouldn’t let her.
***
Ayla
I didn’t know how long they kept me there, and I wasn’t sure whether it was day or night. All I knew was that I wanted the pain to end. I couldn’t take it anymore. My head pounded and my body felt weak.
My wrists were aching, and every time the rope pressed against my sensitive skin, I whimpered in pain. The skin was scratched raw and I’d been bleeding from my struggles.
“What information did you give the bastards?” Viktor asked again. Viktor, Nikolay, and Phoenix took turns interrogating me, and I was beginning to notice they were exasperated by my answers.
“I didn’t do it,” I said.
Why would I support monsters like Alberto and my father? I loathed them. But Alessio and his men didn’t know that, because I hadn’t revealed the truth.
My life was already in jeopardy. Admitting I was the daughter of Alfredo and the fiancée of Alberto wouldn’t help me.
The truth would put me in more danger. I was Italian and their enemy, so they would never believe me.
No matter how much I begged and sobbed, they wouldn’t listen. They refused to let me go. “Ayla, damn it! Lying is not going to get you out of here!” Nikolay yelled as he paced the room.
Neither will the truth, I thought as I cried.
Sucking in a deep breath, I winced at my dry throat. “Please…Viktor, Nikolay. I didn’t do it. Believe me. I don’t know anything,” I whispered, my voice scratchy from hours of crying. I could barely even talk from the constant throbbing pain in my throat.
Nikolay stopped pacing and stared at me, his eyes full of pity. I shifted my gaze to Viktor and saw that he was looking at me with the same sympathy.
I knew I was slowly weakening them. They wanted to believe me. They seemed almost convinced that I hadn’t done it. I just didn’t know how much longer I could stay strong. All I wanted was to go back to my bed and cuddle into my soft covers, forgetting about this nightmare.
We were still staring at each other in silence when suddenly the door opened. I blinked several times, trying to get rid of the fog in my eyes. I felt my heart stutter in panic when Alessio walked in.
He wore his regular three-piece black suit. His hands were bare—no black leather gloves. Alessio stared at me for a few seconds, his eyes blank.
He stayed at the door and crossed his arms over his chest. Looking at Viktor, he gave him a nod. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion when Viktor got up and came closer to me. Fear clawed its way inside me.
A few seconds later, I felt his hands on the rope. There were a few tugs and I winced at the discomfort and pain.
Then my hands were free.
They believe me? I didn’t know what to do or how to act. Was I being released, or were they going to torture me some more?
“Get up,” Alessio ordered in a gruff voice. I quickly did as I was told and cradled my wounded hands against my chest.
“Go to your bedroom. You are free,” he said in the same emotionless voice. I sucked in a harsh breath, stumbling back against a hard chest. I didn’t have to turn around. I knew it was Viktor.
He grasped my shoulders and held me up until my weak legs could support me. I shook so bad that if it hadn’t been for Viktor, I would have been on the floor.
“Can you walk?” he asked, his voice strangely soft, as if he was talking to a wounded animal.
I nodded and he let me go. I stumbled forward and slowly walked toward Alessio, my legs heavy. My eyes stayed focused on him as I made my way to the door. He didn’t move or say anything as he continued to stare at me.
When I walked through the door, Alessio’s cold voice stopped me dead in my tracks.
“Don’t even think of escaping.”
I didn’t look at him when I nodded. Escaping didn’t even pass through my mind. I knew I couldn’t escape. There was no point.
His men would just catch me, and in the end, I would have to pay for my defiance. I had no desire to come back to this basement or to feel Alessio’s wrath.
I would live my life as a quiet maid and try to become as invisible as possible.
I heard Artur’s voice. “Boss, why are you—”
Alessio lifted his palm, silencing him. My shoulders sagged and I wanted to cry in relief.
I followed Phoenix as he led the way. We climbed the stairs, bringing us to the main level. I couldn’t see anyone and the house was completely silent.
“What time is it?” I asked nervously.
“Two-thirty in the morning,” Phoenix replied.
My steps faltered. Almost seventeen hours. I had been in that basement for almost seventeen hours.
