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"Play my part?" I repeat, my mind racing. "What does that even mean?"
"Enough questions," the passenger seat enforcer snaps, his patience clearly wearing thin.
My heart sinks as I realize that, despite their revelation about my mother, I'm still no closer to understanding what's happening.
The enforcers' words only serve to deepen the mystery, and I can't help but feel like a pawn in someone else's twisted game.
As we drive, my mind races with unanswered questions and fears for my future.
But one thing is clear: if I want to make it out of this alive, I'll have to find a way to outsmart these men and whatever dark forces they represent.
"How did my mother die?" I whisper.
They say nothing.
"Please, just tell me where you're taking me. I swear, I wish you no harm."
"Rosalie," the enforcer at the passenger seat begins, his tone softer than before.
"We're taking you to meet Hunter Drucci. He's been expecting you."
My blood turns cold at the mention of that name.
Hunter Drucci was my ex-fiancé, a man my father arranged my marriage to and who I once thought I could have loved but was a monster.
My heart races as I remember the last time I saw him, the fear and disgust clear on my face.
My mind flashes back to when I first met Hunter in my father's presence; he was charming, attentive, and everything I ever wanted in a partner.
But as we grew closer, I saw the darkness lurking beneath the surface.
The cruelty hidden behind his handsome facade only revealed itself when he believed no one was watching.
The things he would say he did to his ex-wives, what he would do to me if I ever betrayed him.
When I told my parents, my father simply told me that if I behaved well, he won't do to me what he did to the others.
My mother, however, started digging.
She was the one who unveiled the true extent of his atrocities to me.
She was the one who helped me run.
Hunter Drucci is feared by many in the city, a notorious mafia boss who rules with an iron fist.
It was only when I discovered the truth about how cruel he is that I knew I had to escape.
I fled, leaving behind my life as Rosalie Battaglia and assuming the identity of Emily Jackson, praying that I would never have to face Hunter again.
And now my mother dead, and I'm left here without any answers.
"Is that what this is about?" I ask, my voice barely a whisper.
"You're taking me back to him?"
"Like I said, Rosalie," the passenger seat enforcer replies, "you have a part to play. And that involves your dear ex-fiancé."
"Please," I plead again, desperation seeping into my voice, "I can't go through that again."
