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“Son of a bitch,” he grunts.
I keep kicking and flailing and manage to land several more blows.
“You fuckin’ bitch!”
My body is suddenly tossed to the floorboard when the vehicle takes off quickly, tires squealing, and I land on my shoulder with a thud. I scream again.
“Please, somebody help!”
“Shut the fuck up, or I’m going to shut you up. And trust me, bitch, you won’t like it.”
“I got something that will shut her up,” another guy says.
My stomach drops.
“Your only job is to drive the fuckin’ car,” my kidnapper says, then mutters something in a different language.
I don’t know how much time has passed when I feel the car come to a stop. The door opens, and I whimper when a hand clamps down around my bicep and hauls me out of the vehicle. I trip over my feet, but the asshole manhandling me doesn’t allow me to fall to the ground.
He pulls me along for a bit, then says, “Sit.”
I’m shoved into a chair, then the covering is ripped off my head. A bright light assaults me, and I blink several times to regain my senses.
Standing to my right is the man I assume kidnapped me. He’s tall, with dark hair and a stern scowl. My mouth goes dry as I take in my surroundings. The empty warehouse is dark aside from the bright light shining directly above my head, and it smells of dust and motor oil.
My heart begins beating rapidly in my chest when a dark figure appears from the shadows. The man is almost as tall as Luca, with brown hair mixed with a bit of gray. Like my kidnapper, he’s wearing a black suit with a white button-down shirt beneath. Tattoos cover both hands as well as his neck. He has unique eyes: one green, one blue. The man before me oozes dominance and authority with nothing more than the look on his face. Standing beside him is the same version, only younger. I know right away they must be related because he has the same eyes. The only difference is this guy has more blond in his hair and gauges in both ears.
“Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Demetri Volkov and this is my son Nikolai.”
20
HARLEM
I can’t shake the feeling that something is about to happen. There have been no disturbances in town, and my father’s 48-hour window is closing on us. A dark cloud still lingers over me and the club. My father never gives up. I would be a fool to think he’d tucked his tail and run. The threat of retaliation from my father remains.
The streetlights cast eerie shadows on the buildings around me, intensifying my unease as I navigate through the dimly lit streets of Salem. Every dark alleyway I pass feels like a potential trap, hiding an unseen danger.
I slow down as I approach Belladonna’s. Pulling into an empty parking spot nearby, I kill the engine and walk inside, where I find the place ransacked. I draw my weapon, and a surge of adrenaline courses through my veins, quickening my heartbeat and sharpening my senses. My eyes darted around the storefront taking in the merchandise scattered across the floor.
Sukie.
Fear grips my insides. Then my eyes fall on a pair of boots sticking out from behind the counter.
“Shit!”
I dash across the room, finding Baja lying unconscious on the floor but still breathing. I give him a quick look over. No blood, no bullet holes, or stab wounds. With each breath, I ready myself for what else I might find and make my way toward the back of the building. I find the exit door open and hold my breath as I step outside.
The alleyway is empty. My stomach sinks. I rush inside, putting the phone to my ear, calling Salem, as I enter the room where the security equipment is kept, hoping the camera footage will give me some answers.
“Yeah?
“We got a man down, and Sukie is missing.” The last few words get lodged in my throat.
“Where you at?” I hear movement in the background.
“Belladonna’s.”
I pull up the past few hours of the camera feed, eyes glued to the small TV screen. My heart stops beating, and time stands still as I watch my woman fight to free herself from the hands of two masked men. My worst fear is unfolding in front of my eyes. The very thing I never wanted to happen was playing out before me.
