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Four hours later, I arrived in New York and was safely in my secret spot. By the time I cooked dinner, my phone flashed. I had a text from Elijah.
Elijah.I’m at a masquerade ball. All the families are in attendance. Felix Aslanov is the person who wants you dead. He’s been busy with the Albanian mafia. His daughter, Anya, just ran out of here. The tide has changed.
New York 24567. Black Bentley.
Cian.Done. Find out what kind of business the Albanians are doing with that bastard.
6
ANYA
UNDISCLOSED LOCATION, NEW YORK
My eyes opened and I jerked against the rope binding my hands and legs. I was tied to a chair in the middle of the floor. I was in a spacious basement that resembled a lavish mancave. The golden light illuminating from the chandelier added to the rustic modern feel of the space. This place wasn’t decorated by a woman, which meant Samira wasn’t the person who attacked me. There were pool tables off to the side, and down the hall I could make out black leather media chairs seated on a raised platform. This would’ve been a cool basement to chill with friends but I wasn’t with friends. The dull ache on the back of my head reminded me of the last minutes before I blacked out. I was certain that I hadn’t been unconscious long enough to have left New York, so I was still in danger. I must escape now.
Swallowing hard, I tried to ignore the trembles that racked my body. I felt weak, and my body was drenched with sweat. If I didn’t get my diabetes under control there wouldn’t be anything left for my attacker to kill.
Who kidnapped me?
The door at the top of the stairs opened and a man walked down the steps. Whoever this man was, he wasn’t employed by my father. He must be a rival.
He stopped in front of me.
His sea moss colored iris held so many emotions: determination, possessiveness, and victory. I met his stare but not for the reasons he thought. He looked like a rugged wet dream. His sandy blond hair waved and curled down to his eyebrows. The sunrays had touched his skin and he resembled a golden god towering over me. He had an elegant nose, unblemished skin, and a strong jaw framed with a manicured thin layer of straight brown hair. His body was muscular and his thighs were like tree trunks.
I cleared my throat and averted my face. My thoughts were becoming sinful and I needed to figure a way out of here. It wouldn’t be long before Samira and her men would come looking for me. There was no way she could be allowed to tell dad what I’d done.
His calloused fingers grabbed my chin, turning my face toward him.
My eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”
Instead of answering, he stood and stared at me. His gaze focused on my lips. He didn’t look Italian and he wasn’t Russian. He could be Irish, but I couldn’t tell by his looks. It wasn’t normal for a man to kidnap you and remain silent, but he hadn’t answered my question.
Crack. Crack.
The sound of glass crashing to the floor caused me to jerk against the ropes. Only my training kept me from screaming.
“What was that? Are you expecting an army? If so, why did they come through the window and not the door?”
Damn. Samira’s men have found me.
Instead of answering, he turned and looked at the wall, where a tiny light was now flashing red. He lifted his shirt and pulled his knife from its sheath. I watched as he cut the ropes binding my legs but left my hands tied behind my back. I opened my mouth, but he pressed a finger to my lips.
Their shouts were getting louder and clearer. He pulled a gun and pressed it to my head as he dragged me down the hall into the media room. The lights went out. I heard heavy footsteps getting closer. It wouldn’t be long before they were down here.
The wall retracted when he touched a spot. Before I could think of running, he pushed me inside the space and stepped in just as the wall closed. The space was darker than the basement and cooler, which suggested it wasn’t insulated. Without warning, he pushed me forward and I stumbled into another space. He turned on the light and dragged me to a chair.
This was some kind of panic room on steroids. There were black metal racks on every surface of the room. The racks held several types of weapons: guns, explosives, chemicals, knives, katanas, and swords. Within minutes the TV screens mounted over the entire room came alive. I gasped. Each screen displayed the inside and outside of the house.
We are still in New York. I recognized the street when the camera showed outside footage of the area.
There were over thirty men outside and some of them were searching for my car. These men didn’t work for my father so they were his enemies also. They could also be Samira’s men.
I watched him load up on explosives, knives, and two additional guns.
What did he think he could do with at least thirty armed men ready to kill?
