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And look at where I’m at now.
The door pushed open, and she felt her eyes widen at the beast of a man standing in the threshold.
It’s him, from my bathroom, the one that drugged me.
This man, who wore a pair of loose fitting worn-in jeans, a dark T-shirt, and a biker leather vest, was by far the largest man she’d seen.
On his vest the name “Fury” was stitched into a patch on one side of the leather.
He just stood there, staring at her from the doorway, and the power and strength that came from him frightened her to the point she felt her hands shake in their bonds.
He didn’t say anything for a long moment, and that made him all the more frightening. She licked her lips, not knowing if she should say anything. But then he brought his bottle of beer to his mouth and took a long drink from it as he watched her intently.
Angelina started to hyperventilate when he took a step closer. He walked over to the dresser and set the bottle on it, watching her the whole time.
“What do you want? Why am I here?” she finally managed to stutter out. She tried moving back on the bed, instinct telling her to get away from him, but being bound only allowed her to bend her knees.
“You’ve been out for longer than I thought,” he said, his voice deep, serrated like a rusty knife digging into her flesh. “Glad you came around though. I have a lot planned for us.” He was at the edge of the bed, his arms crossed, his muscles bulging.
She shook her head, not sure why she was doing the act. “Why am I here?” she asked again.
He stayed silent for a second before speaking again. “You’re here because of your father.” His voice was so deep she felt it vibrate throughout her whole body. He stopped at the head of the bed, and she couldn’t do anything but look up at him.
He reached out, and she flinched, not knowing if he’d hit her. But instead, he grabbed a lock of her dark hair and lifted it up, rubbing it between his fingers, staring at the strands.
She was frozen as she watched him.
“Your father fucked up, and you’re the one that will help make this right.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she whispered.
He dropped the strands and looked into her eyes. “No?”
She shook her head.
He gave her a half smile, but it was far from amused. “Your father isn’t Sal Cardona?” He lifted a brow.
Her throat was closing, and she knew lying at this point might only make things worse, if that was even possible.
“I have nothing to do with what my father does or has done. I don’t want anything to do with him or my family.” He stayed silent, and she licked her dry lips again. “I haven’t spoken to him or anyone from the Family in months.”
He smirked, but it wasn’t humorous.
“If you’re trying to get even with him for something he did, I’m the last person that can help. My father doesn’t want anything to do with me.” That last part was a lie, because she knew her father wouldn’t let her just leave the family.
She was blood, in the organization for life, and her running from them had only made things worse. But she couldn’t turn back, even if she wanted to.
“You want me to believe you left that all behind?”
She nodded.
“You think your father doesn’t know where you’re at?”
She stilled.
“If I could find you this easily, the Cardonas have known where you’re at, Princess.”
Could he hear the sound of her heart beating so fast and hard? “B-believe me,” she stuttered the words out. “My father wants nothing to do with me,” she lied again.
