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Liam fucking decked the asshole, and the entire arena descended into chaos.
While the bodyguards surrounding Costa pulled the two men apart, the excited crowd pushed me away. I fought against the movement, trying to stay close to the relative safety of Liam. When Alexi appeared, throwing his arm around my shoulders and guiding me out of the arena. I followed him, surprised at his presence, but grateful for his size and his protection.
The hallway was poorly lit. Someone had flicked off the fluorescent lighting, leaving only the dull flicker of the emergency lights. “Alexi, I—”
An arm wrapped around my waist, and a hand slammed down over my mouth. I screamed, but it was futile. Over the echoing noise of the riot, nobody heard my muffled shouts. I struggled and kicked, to no avail. The man who hauled me along was twice my size, and I couldn’t seem to get in a blow strong enough to stop him.
A third man waited for us in the dark hallway outside of the arena. Alexi taped my mouth shut while the other taped my wrists together, then my feet.
No. NO!
Memories of being kidnapped as a teenager washed over me, and I panicked. When I screamed again through the tape, Alexi slapped me in the face, shocking me into silence. “Shut the fuck up, Ginevra.”
Fuck.Fuck!I wanted to scream that he’d pay, that I knew he was as complicit ten years ago as he was in that moment. None of that would be useful in helping me escape though. Did my men know Alexi had betrayed us, had betrayed me? My eyes flicked to the blinking red light of the camera in the corner of the hallway, hoping, praying, they’d see what happened.
With a grunt, one of the men lifted me over his shoulder, my face dangling down his back, and his hand on my thighs to hold me in place as we exited through a fire escape. The fire alarm blared as they dropped me into the trunk of a car, heedless of my ineffectual struggles.
When the trunk slammed shut, leaving me in darkness, a sob escaped me, a guttural, animal sound of terror and despair. The car sped through the city, throwing me against the walls of the trunk as it took turns quickly, the wheels squealing in the quiet of the night.
I held in my whimpers as I tamped down on the terror coursing through me. This wasn’t a decade ago. I wasn’t sixteen. I was an adult. I’d been in this situation before, and somehow, I would figure out a way out of it.
The car slammed to a stop. Heavy footsteps walked around the car before opening the trunk and dragging me out by my wrists. Before I could get my bearings and figure out where we were, my captor shoved a hood over my face, then threw me over his shoulder again.
Too soon, he threw me to the ground. A door clanged shut, and I lifted my bound hands to tear the hood off of my face, only to find myself still unable to see in the pitch black of wherever I was. My breath sped up, and I hyperventilated, terror overtaking me when I couldn’t breathe through the tape covering my mouth.
No. Keep it under control, Ginevra.
This wasn’t ten years ago. I was stronger than this, stronger than these captors, stronger than fucking Alexi. Ten years of therapy and independence would get me through this. I breathed through my nose, fighting my instinct to panic.
My men would tear the city apart looking for me.
Hopefully.
I maneuveredmy body to a sitting position, my feet in front of me, my knees slightly bent, so I could scoot around wherever I was. When I hit a wall, I sighed with relief. My body ached from the tension and the exertion to get here, and I was grateful to lean my bare back on the rough concrete.
Since Alexi had taped my mouth shut and dragged me away from the arena in Liam’s club, I’d teetered on the precipice of terror and panic. With no way to tell how much time passed in the silent blackness, I slowly backed away from the brink, taking deep breaths to calm myself.
Why had he grabbed me? Ransom? It would take time for Rian to route the ten million dollars he’d paid for me to the Bratva in a way that wouldn’t draw attention to the transaction. No. No way was Alexi in this alone. Revenge? My father pissed off a lot of people when he’d failed to save the other families’ investment in his luxury building, and Alexi had borne the brunt of protecting my family from the fall-out. But wasn’t that the point of the ten million dollar payment to the Russians, to assuage those hurt feelings? Or was Alexi working with Yuri Semenov, finally collecting on the debt I owed for killing Ivan so many years ago?
Were my men really going to search for me? My father had his money and protection, and they were officially shareholders in my father’s businesses, legitimate and otherwise. The weight of my father’s name now extended to them, with or without me to sweeten the deal as their wife. Sure, they’d be better served by my presence, but as long as my father was willing to go along with it, they didn’t fucking need me anymore.
Fuck, I didn’t know. Untangling myself from this bullshit was why I’d left ten years ago and built myself a life on the other side of the country. I’d made stupid decision after stupid decision since Sofia had called a week ago, only to find myself in exactly the same situation I’d fled as a teenager.
The door to the room clanged open, slamming into the concrete wall. Fluorescent light from the hallway poured in, creating a halo behind the large man staring at me, his face twisted with disgust.
“Ginevra Russo,” he said with a thick Russian accent. “Welcome to my humble abode.”
When I didn’t respond, he curled an eyebrow up, then strode into the room. With a painful jerk, he ripped the tape off my mouth.
Holding back tears from the sudden burning pain, I inhaled sharply, knowing this might be my only opportunity to get more information about the man who crouched before me. “Who are you?”
“Yuri Semenov, my dear.” Semenov’s smile didn’t meet his eyes as his lips stretched over his teeth. I was so fucked. He reached out a finger and traced it down my cheek. “Memories are long in the underworld, darling Ginevra. I promise you, I never forgot for one moment who murdered my son.”
He stepped back and one of his soldiers picked me up with a grunt, dragging me over his shoulder to carry me out of the cell. I tried to ignore the prick of humiliation about being exposed like this, my now filthy dress riding up over my ass. I used my bound fists to push against the back of my captor, lifted my head from where it bounced against him, trying to get my bearings.
We walked through a bland, windowless office space. We’d entered into a warehouse, of that I was certain, but we hadn’t walked up or down any stairs. Too soon, we arrived to an open space, well enough lit to see the equipment piled around us.
Without ceremony, the man carrying me dropped me into a metal chair, bolted to the concrete floor. When I realized his intent, I screamed and kicked again, until a harsh blow to the side of my face left me gasping in pain. Before I could recover, he taped my feet to the legs of the chair and my hands behind it. The position was obscene, leaving my red panties bared to Yuri’s dispassionate gaze.
