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I’m antsy the entire flight. So much so that the woman next to me snaps at me to stop jiggling my leg. I just shoot her a glare that shuts her up. The moment the plane lands in LA, I’m out of my seat before I can even think about it.
I push past people who are trying to grab their luggage from the overhead compartments. They mutter and mumble, but I ignore them all, including the flight attendant who tells me to slow down and mind the other passengers’ space. The moment I’m off the plane, I run.
I feel like I’m in a rom com, running to the end of the airport to stop the love of my life from getting onto a plane. Except, in this rom com, I’m leaving the airport and trying to stop the love of my life from getting killed.
Outside, I cut the line of people waiting for taxis and jump into the back of one. The man who was just about to get into the taxi shouts at me. Ignoring him, I turn to the driver. “I need you to drive.”
When the driver hesitates, I shout at him, “Now!”
He drives, leaving the other man to shout that it was his taxi first. I tell the driver the address, then settle back in my seat. I’m assuming Viktor was taken to Marco’s house. It’s the only place I know of in LA, so it better be right.
Marco’s luxurious mansion comes into view after an hour of drive-time. God, and I thought getting around New York was bad. I pay him and get out of the car, sprinting up the driveway to the front door. I start pounding on it, desperate for someone to answer and tell me Viktor is still alive.
Somone does finally answer. But it’s not Franco or Marco. It’s a man with dark blond hair and an annoying smirk.
“Yes?” He leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed, looking way too nonchalant.
“Who are you?”
“Who are you?” He squints at me for a moment before his eyes widen. “Wait. You’re one of Emilia’s sisters, aren’t you?”
“I’m Gemma. Is Viktor here?”
“Ah, so you’re the one who was kidnapped.”
I flap my hands at my side. “Yes, I know. Now, is Viktor here?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Oh, for the love of fucking god.” I push past him and enter the house. “Viktor!” I shout.
The man follows me. “What are you doing?”
I spin around to face him, drawing him up short. “Where is Viktor? Is he here? I know Marco and my uncle went after him. And who the fuck are you, again?”
“Uh, I’m Leo,” he says in a slow, drawn-out voice that annoys me even more. “I’m Marco’s second in command. We met a few years ago at Emilia and Marco’s wedding.”
“Right. Don’t remember you.” He looks hurt, but I don’t care. “Now, is Viktor here?”
“Sure. Your uncle is down in the basement showing him a good time.”
I’m off before Leo can finish his sentence. I start running down the hall, searching for a door to the basement, but Marco’s house is freaking huge, and I get lost. Leo trails after me, his hands in his pockets. “Looking for the basement?”
“Ugh. Yes. Tell me where it is?”
“It’s just down there.” He points down the hallway.
“Thanks,” I mutter, running in the direction he pointed.
“You’re welcome!” he calls back.
I find the door and wrench it open. It leads to rickety and worn set of stairs that lead to darkness. I don’t hesitate. I run down the stairs and end up in a hell of a basement.
Both Marco and Franco are here. Their backs are to me, but I’d recognize them. They spin around at my entrance, which allows me to see past them … to Viktor, who’s handcuffed to a pole and covered in blood. It’s obvious the blood is his, given how beat up he looks, from a puffy eye to bruises across his body to open wounds. I’m not even sure he’s conscious.
“Gemma?” Marco asks, approaching me. “What are you doing here? You shouldn’t see this. Let me and Franco handle this.”
“No!” I run to Viktor’s side—or I try to, but Franco catches me around the waist, preventing me from going any farther. “Let me go!” I manage to land a kick to Franco’s shin, but he still doesn’t let go.
