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CHAPTERNINE
VANESSA
Idon't rememberfalling asleep. Given the constant fear in my chest that Ethan or any of his brutish men would walk in, I had thought it impossible. Sleep, on the other hand, had crept up on me. It was a gift that my tired and weak body had forced upon me, and it now gave me the ability to think clearly.
So much had happened in such a short period of time. I blamed Ethan Levine for everything, but my uncle and I were still alive. That was somewhatcomforting. My body tingled at the thought of Ethanand his touch, but I needed to come to terms with reality. Trying to figure out what heneeded to succeed gave me a headache.
I looked at the table, and there was still my untouched food staring back at me. My stomach hurt from not eating for the lastthree days, but I couldn't allow myself a proper meal while Anna was still in trouble as a result of me. After all, I was the one who had invited her to my uncle's birthday party.
Ethan is the enemy, I thought to myselfhesitantly, fearingmy body would betray me.
But, in all truth, the more I considered it, the more I believedthe clear culprit was none other than my uncle. I tried to deny it, but I knew Ethan's words were most probably true. My uncle was a Mafia member who attempted to kill someone, no matter how hard it was for me to actually picture my uncle being in any of these scenarios.
My uncle hadn't denied any of the accusations that Ethan had unleashedat him that day in his house. I knew he was a proud man who would have denied the allegations if they were untrue, but he didn't. His fearless expression told me that he had not only seen but also held a gun.
Innocent men feared death because they thought they did notdeserved it. Guilty men, on the other hand,knew they deserved whatever fate had in store for them.
Ten years ago, I was about twelve years old and alone in a boarding school. My parents were gone, and while I wanted to vent my rage on Uncle Fred, I knew he was doing everything he could to compensatefor their absence.
He always appeared tired and distant whenever he came over to see me. Now that I think about it, the burden he carried inside was reflected on his eyes.
"How is work?" I askedmy uncle, eager to hear his news. The Christmas holidays had finally arrived, and I was excited to see him again. I missed my mother and father terribly, but I never told anyone because I despised the pitying looks I received. At the very least, having Uncle Fred around was reassuring.
"Stressful," he said, smiling as if to put my mind at ease.
"Uncle Fred, what do you do for a living? Perhaps I could help during the holidays," I offered for the hundredth time because I couldn't bear seeing him so exhausted.
"Vanessa, I appreciate your offer. However, as I have repeatedly stated, it is not a job for a young lady like you. It's tiring, and you should be focused on school," he responded with a kind smile.
Now I realize he never answered my questions, but I was too young to notice or think about it then.
Though my uncle had done things I couldn't even imagine, I knew he cared about me. He was always there to protect me, even when it wasn't necessary.
I was his family, and he was mine.
He must be worried sick by now.
This thought made me despisethe frustratingly attractive man who had kidnapped me all over again. I chastised myself for forgetting he was evil.
I knew I had to escape to put my uncle’s mind at ease—and Anna's.
I was curious about how she was doing and how long it would be before her father began looking for her. I wasn't sure if she was being kept in a dungeon or in a large and luxurious room like I was. But the thought of them abandoning her lifeless body in a ditch chilled my blood.
I have to get out of here.
I got out of bed and looked around the room for any possible escape routes that I had previouslyoverlooked. But, of course, I discovered nothing.
My stomach grumbled again, and my gaze returned instinctively to the tray on thetable. Though I had decided not to eat out of guilt and as a protest, I could feel my resolve fraying as my stomach clenched.
If you starve to death, who wins? I heard a voice in my head, and I knew it was my stomach talking.
I tried to think about my escape again while taking a few sips of water and buying myself a few minutes of peace before the pangs of hunger returned.
Bless the maid. I smiled in appreciation, rememberingher daily routine of bringing me food. At that precise moment, it hit me. I dashed to the front door and yanked it open slightly. It finally gave way!
For some reason, she hadn't locked my door that morning. I couldn't tell if she did it on purpose or not, but I had to act smart about it.
The rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins was palpable. Taking a deep breath, I slowly opened the door and stepped out.
