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His words are garbled like I’m underwater, and my head throbs furiously as he shuts me inside and starts the engine. It takes me a few minutes to come back to my senses, fighting off the subsequent nausea as the adrenaline response takes over me. I flutter my eyes open, and the afternoon light makes them water. It burns, but I fight off the instinct to close them as I peek up at the back of his head. Damien doesn’t think I’m a threat right now, and I have to use this time to think. But my thoughts are distorted, and everything is blurry. It feels like a dream because none of it makes sense.
Why would he do this?
Then it hits me. It’s a dark thought, but one I have to acknowledge. Alessio hired him to watch me, and this is only his first day. Is this why? Did he ask him to do this to me? Did he hire him to do the thing he couldn’t?
Ice numbs my heart, and I swallow the pain that feels unbearable, forcing it down. There isn’t time to focus on that now. I have to think about survival. I have to find a way to get back to Nino like I promised.
I turn my gaze toward the window, studying the familiar foliage of the Hudson’s long driveway before Damien merges onto the street. He starts to turn in his seat, and I close my eyes, hoping he can’t tell that I’m awake. I remain in the same position for a good three minutes as he drives, and then slowly, as quietly as I can, I use my hand to search for my bag. When I find it, I dip into the largest pocket where I’ve kept my butterfly knife since Alessio returned it to me.
For years, I’ve carried this knife as protection. I familiarized myself with it. I practiced with it. I trained in self-defense, maintaining a physical routine that made every strategic move feel like second nature. I’ve never actually used it on anyone before today, but there isn’t a doubt in my mind that I will. Damien doesn’t know me. If he did, he would have never left me unsecured in the back the way that he has. He underestimated me, and that mistake will cost him his life, so help me, God.
From my position on the seat, I watch the passing scenery through the top of the window, but I can’t see anything more than clouds now. I relax my breathing, trying to think this through rationally. Attacking him in the car would be easier, but we’re going too fast, and I’m not wearing a seatbelt. Killing myself isn’t part of the plan, so I sit tight, cataloging my advantages. He thinks I’m unconscious, and he doesn’t know I have a weapon. I don’t want to wait because I don’t know where he’s driving me but catching him off guard is the best chance of my survival.
The car slows and turns once and then a second time before Damien lowers his window, and I recognize the familiar sound of the security gate unlocking. He’s taking me back home.
The first thought in my mind is that Manuel is gone, and I know Alessio is too. He won’t be here to watch it. He just wants to know it’s done.
My eyes blur with tears, and I blink them away rapidly, pulling myself together. I can’t fucking do this right now. I have to win this fight for Nino. That’s it. There is no other choice.
The car comes to a stop, and I lie as still as I can, opening the blade when he gets out. I hide it beneath my palm and wait. I’m not sure which door he’ll open first, but I’m prepared with my heels at one end and my blade at the other. I count the seconds, forcing myself not to look, and then I hear the handle above my head. The door opens, cool air rushes in, and he grabs me by the hair. He yanks on my head to drag me back, and the pain is excruciating, but I don’t make a sound. I don’t give him any indication that I’m conscious.
“Wake up, bitch.” He slaps my face when my dead weight flops against the seat cushion, and again, I don’t move.
“And here I thought you were a fighter,” he grumbles, leaning down to lift my shoulders with his hands.
The moment I feel his breath on my face, I open my eyes and lock my gaze on the target of his artery. I swing my arm, and he mutters a stunned curse right before the knife plunges into his neck. He drops me immediately, staggering back as he grabs at the blade, yanking it free. It’s only once he does that, he realizes his mistake. Blood spurts from the wound rapidly, and he slaps his palm over it in a desperate attempt to stop it.
