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Chains clanking cause me to look down, and I yank my arms when I notice my wrists and ankles are chained to poles in the ground. My back rests on a wall, propped up against it.
I glance around a narrow passageway. Maybe a hallway. Wherever I am is small. Muted grays and blacks and cold and humid and something out of a claustrophobic’s nightmare. I’ve got not even the slightest clue as to where I am…
I struggle to recall something, anything—
Evelina.
Her baby.
My mind lands sharply on the woman I can’t forget, despite my brain feeling fuzzy as fuck.
Where is Evelina?
I yank on the chains and start screaming. Someone has a lot of fucking explaining to do. The more I scream, the more my throat feels like shards of glass have been scraping the inside of my vocal cords, as if I’ve been yelling for much longer than only mere seconds.
A dull thumping in my head turns torturous as I scream, the thumping transforming into severe throbbing as my eyes land on a puddle of dark liquid and a bucket across from me. Another set of chains lay uncuffed, as if someone was there and is now gone.
I scream again, the noise ricocheting around me. What the fuck happened? How did I get into such a fucking compromised position?
My brain feels like mush as I try to remember, try to piece together a puzzle when I don’t even have said pieces.
Heavy footsteps approach me, but I can’t decipher if they are coming from the left or right due to the echo, but I know those footsteps. The cadence, the speed…
Gabriel.
New York.
The hotel.
“Fuck you!” I spew just as Gabriel comes into view with a man I don’t recognize.
The sly smile on his face tells me he’s up to no good, as fucking always.
“That isn’t a nice way to greet your father, Niccolò,” he says, coming to a stop just out of my reach due to these goddamn chains. “Oh!” He taps on his chin with his index finger theatrically and cocks his head to the side. “You aren’t greeting your father. You’re greeting the man you and your mother have deceived your entire life.”
How the fuck did he find out?
Actually…whenthe fuck did he find out? How long has it been since the hotel?
My question must be written on my face because he laughs his condescending fucking snicker I know all too well.
“I can’t believe you and your bitch whore of a mother pulled the wool over my eyes for so many years.” Hetsksas he glances at the liquid pooling across from me. “You’ll continue paying for your sins against the only man who has ever taken care of you, though. Niccolò, the bastard son of Stefano Mancini, will get every single depraved, merciless, vicious motherfucking thing that he’s due.”
Another chuckle escapes his lips as he bends down and swipes two fingers through the liquid on the ground, then rights himself. He smears the liquid down the gray wall across from me, the red color of it a dead giveaway. What I couldn’t tell before, I can clearly see now…
Blood.
Clumpy, congealed blood that won’t even drip down the wall but rather sticks like jelly to the cold concrete.
“Something tells me once you realize what you’ve done, you won’t mind everything we’ll be putting you through,” Gabriel says, clamping his hand over the shoulder of the unintroduced man next to him. “In fact, you may even come to like it. May appreciate it. Most of the men here enjoy their jobs immeasurably. Free food and water, a semi-comfortable cot to sleep on, a new woman to breed every single day…a nice warm cunt to spew your seed in… Things could be worse. You’ll learn eventually.”
Something sour curdles in my stomach from Gabriel’s words.
A cold chill slowly creeps down my spine as his sneer stretches onto his face, the coldness in his eyes mocking me.
“Whose blood is that?” I ask, not giving a fuck about a single other word he’s spoken.
He winks, and I want to fucking strangle him, want to do what I should’ve done years ago and end him, watch the life drain slowly from his eyes as I seal his fate.
