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As we simultaneously reach for our drinks, our hands collide, causing one of the martini glasses to teeter over the edge of the table and spill onto Justine’s legs, soaking one of her shoes.
Gasping, I instinctively cover my mouth with both hands. “I’m so sorry.”
She laughs, gesturing for me to calm down. “All good. I’ll just pop into the ladies’ room real quick.” Her expression turns serious. “Please don’t leave.”
I hold up three fingers. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
The words fall easily from my lips. Even though I despise my captivity, I can acknowledge that Luca has in fact kept me safe. And Justine’s belief in the threat against me reinforces the knowledge that until the people who wish me dead are…dealt with, I won’t be going anywhere. No matter how much I often wish otherwise.
As I grab the tablet to order Justine another drink, assuming it can’t be that hard, I realize this is the first time I’ve truly come to accept my situation. I thought I would feel an overwhelming sense of loss by admitting I have no control over my life. Instead, there’s a dose of relief that fills me that I no longer have to fight everything being forced on me.
Justine is already out the door, and it takes me more than a minute to find Leg Spreader on the menu. When I see the four different types of liquor included in the ingredients, I cringe. The toilet might be my pillow tonight if I let Justine continue to be the picker of drinks.
I’ve barely set the tablet down when the curtain moves, but nobody enters the room. My stomach drops as if I’ve just jumped off the highest cliff. “Hello?” I say, then add, “Luca?”
A little name-drop never hurt anyone.Right?
“Luca’s preoccupied, but don’t worry, I’m here to make sure you’re taken care of,” a raspy voice emerges from the shadows, sending a shiver down my spine. The dim lighting of the room makes it difficult to discern the figure, heightening my sense of vulnerability.
My mind races, considering my options. The pulsating music I know is outside the room drowns out any potential screams for help. I glance at the door, my heart pounding, contemplating the possibility of escape. I’m not sure I’ll be quick, but a surge of adrenaline propels me forward with a shred of hope as I make a dash for the exit only a second later.
Just as I reach out, hoping for safety from whoever this stranger is, a powerful force collides with me, sending me sprawling to the ground. Pain shoots through my face as it connects with the hard tile, leaving me disoriented and helpless, just inches away from the door.
My legs flail out in a desperate attempt to free myself, but strong fingers grip my hair, yanking me to the side. The man’s weight presses me down, immobilizing me completely. Panic courses through my veins, unsure what the hell I’m supposed to do now.
“Luca Monroe is going to kill you,” I spit out defiantly, though the words hold a touch of uncertainty. I have no idea if Luca holds that much power to harm whoever this is, but I grasp at any hope of deterring this fucker.
He laughs, his eyes wrinkling at the corners, and revealing a gap between his teeth. “He could if he knew who I was, but little Luca won’t find me, sweetheart. I’ve been at this game a lot longer than he has.”
His words make my heart sink as I scrutinize his features, committing every detail to memory. I don’t know what he intends to do with me, but if I survive whatever is about to happen, then I can at least tell Luca everything possible.
His older age is apparent, with dark hair heavily peppered with grey strands. His brown eyes hold a ring of amber, adding a sinister glimmer to his gaze. A lump protrudes over the bridge of his nose, likely a remnant of past encounters. He’s wearing a black long-sleeve shirt with jeans that I can’t exactly tell the color of from my pinned position.
His open palm strikes my already sore cheek, the pain reverberating through my face. “Don’t fucking look at me like that.”
I refuse to look away, meeting his gaze head-on. But my defiance only seems to fuel his sadistic pleasure.
Forcibly flipped onto my stomach, my view of him and the room is snatched away. Helplessness washes over me, but a surge of determination swiftly replaces it once I realize that my hands are momentarily free. I start to push myself out from underneath him, but cool metal presses against my neck.
“Don’t fucking move,” he hisses. “We wouldn’t want to make a mess, would we?”
Fear takes hold, but I refuse to let it paralyze me. The blade drags across my shoulder, leaving a stinging sensation, a mark that will undoubtedly remind me of this moment. Yet, he stops short of drawing blood.
The blade slides under the right strap of my dress before pulling upward, cutting easily through the satin, but missing my bra as he continues cutting just a few layers into my skin.
“Shall we figure out how many cuts it will take to remove this dress from your body?” he taunts, the excitement in his voice making bile rise in my throat. The true intent behind his words chills me to the core.
Though, time should be on my side. Justine was only going to the bathroom. If I can just keep fighting, I might come out of this relatively unscathed. Yet, something tells me that this man didn’t just get lucky with his timing. He most likely waited for the perfect time and probably isn’t working alone.
Fuck. Is Justine even okay? She should have been back by now…
A surge of anger surges within me, overriding the fear that begs to consume my entire being. Without hesitating further, I act instinctively, catching him off guard. Thanks to a sudden burst of adrenaline, I force myself up and take my attacker by surprise, sending him sprawling to the side.
My body trembles with exertion as I scramble to my feet, reaching for the drink tray from the table nearest to me.
With both hands gripping the hard plastic, I swing it toward his head, connecting with a satisfying thud. It clips his forehead, drawing blood, but he remains standing, his snarl deepening. “You’re going to pay for that, bitch.”
His unfiltered rage only serves to fuel my desire to survive. Before he gets close enough to grab me, I snag the overturned martini glass and smash it over his shoulder, then move to stab him in the neck with the jagged stem.
