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“There’s no one here other than the three of us, Portia. You said it yourself, someone is fucking with you. Someone tripped the alarm, but who? I’ve searched this building and there’s no one but us here.”
I swallow my fear as I hear footsteps sound behind us. I push my legs harder as I follow Amadeo down the stairs. I have no fucking idea what’s going on. It’s all confusing. I have no idea who to trust. Both men are coming across as though they care about me and want to protect me, but if what Amadeo is saying is true, one of them is lying, and I can’t decipher which one.
Amadeo pushes the exit door open, and I follow him out.
“Portia, no,” Robert shouts, and I hear his feet pounding on the stairs as he chases after us.
“We’ve got to go,” Amadeo urges, pushing the keys to his car in my hand as he pulls me toward him.
I release his hand and start to run, my legs pounding against the ground as I run toward the car.
A gunshot sounds out, the noise so loud my ears feel as though they’ve popped. I wince as it’s followed by a loud thud and a groan of pain.
I come to a halt and see Robert standing over Amadeo, who’s lying on the ground, a bullet in his leg.
“Run, Portia,” Amadeo shouts, but I can’t. Robert has his gun trained on me and I’m fucking paralyzed. The thought of having that gun shoot me has me rooted to the spot. “Fucking run,” he says through gritted teeth.
I come unstuck and turn on my heel. I start to sprint toward the car, but the sound of the gun going off follows me, and this time, searing heat and pain hit my arm. I fall to the floor as the pain becomes too much for me to continue.
I hear Robert’s manic laughter. “You should have listened to him, Portia. He was right, you should have run and not stopped. You’d have escaped. But now, you’re all mine.” He gives me a sadistic grin, his eyes filled with hatred and pain. “Well, Marco’s,” he sneers. “It’s going to be one big fucking family reunion.”
I shake my head, swallowing the painful cry that’s ready to escape me. “No,” I cry. “Please don’t do this. You’re supposed to be the good guy.”
His laughter makes my blood run cold. “Look at who your man is, Portia. Is there such a thing as a good man? Is there such a thing as being good? No. We’re all filled with darkness. We all have our limits, and you, bitch, have reached mine.” He holds the gun to my head, the heat of the barrel hot against my skin. I flinch as memories of what Marco did to me the night I escaped come back, and my fear takes over.
He pulls me up by my arm, a painful tearing sound fills the air and it feels as though my arm is being ripped in two. I cry out, the pain too much for me to bear, and the darkness swallows me whole. The last thing I think of is Dario and if he’ll find me in time.
THIRTY
DARIO
“The hotel has been empty for almost a decade,” Kelvin tells us as we climb into the seven-seater SUV he has. “It seems as though Marco has had it revamped and made livable. From what my men have gathered, it’s being run as a whorehouse until they sell the women.”
“Christ, how the fuck has this gone undetected?” Rocco questions. “Surely having a whorehouse on the edge of a major city would spark some questions?”
“You’d think,” Stephen grunts. “But with the number of cops and judges on their books as clients, they’ve had the perfect set up. Anyone who had questions has probably been paid off or has disappeared.”
Fucking bastards. “Have you thought about how this is going to work?” I ask. “The women aren’t going to want to be near men. They’ve been abused, raped, and beaten into submission. They’re not going to trust easily.”
Stephen grits his teeth, his eyes going hard with rage. “No, they won’t. But right now, we’re going to keep them at the hotel and give them some treatment. Some are bleeding and need medical attention, others are higher than a fucking kite.”
So, they’ve been drugging them as well as beating them into submission. Fuck.
“If we keep them at the hotel, then we’ll be able to deal with all those who are part of this on Monday night at the hotel,” Kelvin says grimly.
I nod. “Any ideas on how to take out all those bastards at once?”
Stephen grins. “An explosion,” he says easily. “We can blame it on a gas pipe or something. It’s easy enough to make it look as though there was a gas leak. That way, every fucking bastard that has been buying girls and women will be under one roof and they’ll all die together.”
Sounds like a fucking plan in my eyes. Take everyone out without a chance of them escaping.
“I have doctors on their way. These are people that I trust. I know they’ll look after the women and make sure they’re taken care of in the way they need to be cared for,” Kelvin assures us.
“Let’s get this done,” I say, wanting to get back to Portia as soon as fucking possible. The longer I’m away from her, the louder my gut is screaming at me, and with all the shit that’s going down, I can’t be sure what it’s screaming about.
We arrive at the hotel, and I see what Kelvin’s men were talking about. The outward appearance of this hotel is fucking shit. The bricks are crumbling, the paintwork is in dire need of redoing, the grass is overgrown, and the door looks as though it’s been boarded up. It’s dirty, derelict, and anyone driving past wouldn’t give it a second look. It’s inconspicuous, which means it’s the perfect place for those bastards to use as a brothel.
Stepping into the hotel, I’m shocked at how clean and presentable it is. The walls are a bright white, and the carpet is light gray. Everything is clean and new. It’s as though I’ve stepped into a different place.
