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Consequences. The word echoed in my head.
Dante Guerra was powerful and clearly confident. He was a lot of things, it seemed. It was difficult not to compare him to my stepfather. Valentino made threats constantly, and they only came to fruition a fraction of the time. He claimed threats kept people honest. Threats kept people in line.
Dante’s philosophy with consequences and choices was somehow more intimidating.
With Valentino, I knew what I could get away with doing.
As soon as he opened the door, I replied, “You seem obsessed with the idea of consequences.”
“Isn’t that how the world works?” he asked. “If you do something stupid, you face a consequence.”
“You didn’t elaborate.”
“On the consequences you’d face for leaving?” he asked, and I nodded. “No, I didn’t.”
“Can I ask what you usually do when people owe you money? Or when you punish people for disobeying?”
It was a question I should have asked before pushing him this far. I knew he didn’t take his rage out on innocents, but I had proven to be anything but that. I’d pushed him this far, and I couldn’t understand the lack of reaction.
“Usually, people will work off their debts to me,” he said, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. “Prostitution has been a profitable path for a lot of girls who owe me substantial chunks of money. Eighteen thousand dollars may be a bit steep for that line of work, unfortunately.”
My heart skipped a beat at the way he nonchalantly said the words.
“Call girls at the casino make far more. A woman like you would be better suited to that environment.”
“Are you serious?” I asked as I tried to suck in a breath. It felt like my lungs constricted as I imagined what the men would be like—what they would try to do to me in that situation.
Why the hell couldn’t I take a full breath?
I tried to force my mind away from that thought. I wasn’t a teenager anymore, and I didn’t need to panic when presented with a possibility like this. But the reminder of what I’d been through sunk into my subconscious, flashing behind my eyes with each blink.
Waking up on a cold floor, shivering and wondering why I wasn’t dead.
Being overpowered by a man I should never have trusted.
The smell of tangy gym cleaners as I tried and failed to fight a man double my size.
I held my breath for three seconds before exhaling and trying to get a solid breath in my lungs. I needed one—just one breath—and maybe I could get myself out of this sequence of thoughts.
I was strong.
I’d killed men triple my size without breaking a sweat, and I wouldn’t let myself be put in a situation like that. Never again. Not after—
“You asked what I would traditionally do. You never asked what I have planned for you. You need to be careful with your words, Stellina. Especially with a man like me.”
A man like me.But what kind of man was that really?
“Okay, then, what do you have planned for me?” I finally asked.
I glanced out the passenger’s window as he turned right, deeper into the city rather than toward his house.
He wasn’t heading home.
He was taking me somewhere else, and my heart beat faster. I tried to wipe the sweat from my palms on my pants, trying to eliminate the proof of the growing panic. My lungs wouldn’tcooperate as I silently felt myself asphyxiating from the inability to take one deep breath.
I tried to dilute my fear with the knowledge that I could defend myself. I’d been trained from childhood as a killer, and I didn’t need to be afraid.
I couldn’t help the unquenchable fear that coursed through me, though.
