by Nicole Fox
He’s always done exactly what he wants. No more and no less.
I glance at the closed door.
Who do you have in there now, Lucio? I wonder.
I should just keep walking. I know that.
But for some morbid reason, curiosity and instinct push me through the cellar’s door. I walk the familiar pathway.
Through the racks of wine.
Under the stone archway.
Right up to the gate.
The iron door is closed and sealed, but I’m stunned that no one is here on guard. Lucio really trusts in the structure of his cell, it seems.
Bartek’s threat is still at the forefront of my mind. I know that there will be others in the Polish mob that know about me. They’ll know where I’m placed.
Which means running from this is pointless.
I’ve ignored it for too long.
I push open the door and it makes a shuddering noise that elicits a gasp from the man on the other side of the mesh grille.
He’s bound and gagged, with a bag covering his head.
Blood seeps from several different wounds on his body. His posture is broken. Completely defeated.
“Who’s there?”
I freeze.
Wait—why does that voice sound so familiar?
I try to breathe, even as my heartbeat rises slowly.
“Please, whoever you are, just let me go…”
Oh God.
Oh God.
I find the keys on a small table at knee height. With trembling fingers, I unlock the grille and walk inside the cell.
I’m standing right in front of the prisoner.
My hands twitch uncomfortably.
This can’t be happening.
I pull the bag from his head, and he peers up at me through one swollen eye.
I see his eyes go wide with hope.
“Char.”
I shake my head. “Xander.”
“Thank God,” he breathes. “You have to let me out of here.”
I take a few steps back. “I can’t.”
He frowns. “What the fuck are you talking about?” he demands. “Of course you can. Just let me go.”
“What about me, you asshole?” I snap. “If I let you go, they’ll know it was me!”
“How?”
I hesitate. “Lucio doesn’t trust me.”
“He’s kept you in this house for months now,” Xander points out. “He’s entrusted you with his fucking kid. Of course he trusts you.”
I inhale sharply, and Xander nods.
“Yeah, I know the girl’s his,” he says. “I’m not a fucking moron, Charlotte.”
“You were moronic enough to get caught,” I point out.
“I had to follow orders,” Xander replies. “Kazimierz… that motherfucker is insane. More so than Bartek ever was. There’s no saying no to him.”
“This sounds more like your problem,” I hiss at him. “The last time I tried to save your ass, I paid the price for it. In fact, I’m still paying.”
“This is your problem,” Xander insists. “You don’t think Kazimierz knows about you? He’s pissed that you haven’t given him anything useful so far.”
I tense instantly. Because I know that Xander isn’t lying.
Not about this.
“This dude is psycho, Charlotte,” he urges. “I’ve heard things. More importantly, I’ve seen things. I watched him bash some dude’s skull in with his bare hands. Then he licked the dead dude’s blood right off his fingers.”
I cringe at the visual.
“You can’t run from him,” Xander continues. “Just give him what he wants.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It seems pretty fucking… uh, ouch… fuck…” Xander winces from his injuries. “It is really simple, Charlotte. You give him what he wants? You live. You don’t? You die. End of story.”
I shake my head, still in denial. There has to be another way out of this. “Men like him don’t work that way. If I deliver on my promise, he’ll want something else from me.”
“Well, whatever. At least you’ll be alive.”
“What’s the point of being alive if you’re not free?” I demand.
“Jesus, this is not fucking Disney World, Char!” Xander rasps in frustration. “There’s no such thing as an honorable death, a noble death, a brave death. It’s just death. And it fucking sucks.”
I throw my hands up as I fight back tears.
“I don’t have anything of use,” I say, using the same explanation I’d used on Bartek.
“Then you better find something,” Xander warns. “Kazimierz has you on his radar. And that’s not a good thing.”
I turn my back on him, trying to shut him out while I figure out what to do.
My thoughts aren’t moving in a straight line, though. They keep zig-zagging erratically, leaving me feeling unmoored and completely alone.
“Help me, Charlotte,” Xander pleads.
He rocks back against his chair, probably trying to squirm free of his restraints. But even I can see they’re really secure.
“Don’t bother with that,” I tell him. “You’ll only tire yourself out. They’ve got you locked in place.”
“So then release me!” Xander bellows. “At least that’ll help appease Kazimierz. It’ll prove to him that you’re still working for him.”
“That’s awfully convenient for you.”
“Sure, it’s convenient for me,” Xander admits unabashedly. “But it also happens to be the goddamn truth. You’re just too stubborn to see it.”
“Shut up,” I groan, running my hands down over my face. “Just shut the fuck up. Let me think.”
“You don’t have the luxury of time,” he snaps at me. “I certainly don’t. If I’m still here at daybreak, they’re going to kill me.”
“And you’d deserve it, motherfucker,” I hiss, turning on him.
“Don’t make this personal, Char. You and I have been done for ages now.”
“You say that like it’s all ancient history.”
“Well…”
“You motherfucker!” I yell.
“Are you insane?” His eyes bulge. “Keep your voice down!”
“You realize that the only reason I’m knee deep in shit is because of you?” I say, glaring at him.
“No one asked you to make that bargain with the Polish,” he has the audacity to say to me. “That was all you.”
“They would have killed you on the spot.”
“We’ve been through this before,” Xander sighs, as though I’m the unreasonable one. “They were just trying to scare me. I’m useful to them.”
“You think you’re the only dirty cop in town?”
“I’m the only one that’s made a difference,” he snaps. “Don’t blame me for your bad decisions.”
I smack him clean across the face.
“Fuck! Ow! Jesus, Char, what the hell was that for?”
“You deserved that, you insufferable pig. And a fuck ton more. Is Lucio the one that did this to you?”
“Him and others.”
“Good.”
“Char…” he mutters.
He’s using his ‘cop’ voice. I hated it back then and I hate it even more now.
“Be reasonable here,” he continues. “This isn’t a perfect situation, but it’s where we’re at. We just gotta be smart and survive it.”
“‘We’?” I scoff. “There is no fucking ‘we’, Xander. There never was. You only ever look out for yourself. Even when we were together, it was all about you.”
He twists up his mouth in a pout. “Hey, it may not have worked between us, but I cared about you deeply. I still care about you.”
His insincerity makes me want to throw up.
“Shut up.”
“I don’t get you,” Xander says, desperation starting to wheedle into his tone. “You’re a lot of things, but you’re not a coward. What’s the real reason you’re not informing on Lucio? ‘Cause it’s not that you
’re scared of being caught.”
“Of course I’m scared of being caught.”
“Sure, but not enough to stop you doing what you promised you would,” Xander points out.
Maybe the fucker is smarter than I give him credit for.
“So,” he presses, “what is it?”
I take a deep breath. “I just happen to think that Lucio is the lesser of two evils,” I admit. “And I don’t want anything happening to Evie.”
Xander pauses for a moment. “Lucio is the lesser of two evils?” he repeats. “He’s mafia, too.”
“He’s more than just that,” I argue before I can hold the words in.
Even with his face all disfigured, I can see the surprise and then the realization flit across his face.
“Char, do you… like the guy?”
I can practically feel the color flush onto my cheeks, but I try to remain as indignant as possible.
“Don’t be stupid. I’m just saying…”
“Of course he’s your fucking type. Women are the worst.”
“Excuse me?”
“Your panties drop at the first sign of a pretty face.”
“How shallow do you think I am?” I demand.
“It’s not your fault. It’s hormones.”
“I forgot what an obnoxious neanderthal you are.”
“If you’re doing this for him, Char, then stop,” Xander says pleadingly. “Don’t do this shit for a guy. You did it for me, and look how that worked out.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Seriously?”
“You know it’s true.”
“I’m not doing anything for him,” I growl. “I’m doing it for—”
“You like him,” Xander interrupts me. “I can tell. But let me ask you this, Char: will he be there for you when you need him?”
“Fuck you.”
“Let me go.”
“No.”
I see anger flash across his one good eye. “Let me go and I can talk to Kazimierz. Convince him that you’re working behind the scenes on his behalf.”
“Why would he listen to you?”
“Because I can be convincing when I want to be.”
“Xander, I can’t let you go.”
“Fine. You won’t do it for me. Then do it for Vanessa.”
I freeze.
“What?”
“Have you heard from her lately?” he asks, knowing he has my attention.
“I… no.”
“Of course not. Because the Polish are holding her. But they won’t be for long.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I demand.
“It means that she’s going to be disposed of.”
“They’re going to kill her?” I gasp, nearly choking on my own words.
He grunts. “Death would be preferable. You do know that one of Kazimierz’s businesses involves human trafficking and sex slavery, right?”
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
“Charlotte, let me go. And I’ll make sure nothing happens to Vanessa.”
“Why would you have any influence?” I ask desperately.
“I’m more important than you think I am.”
Liar! That’s what my instincts are telling me, but I don’t have the option of not believing him. The risk is too fucking large.
Vanessa is my friend. But she’s closer than family.
And we’d sworn to always have each other’s backs.
I can’t just leave her with monsters, especially now that I know her fate if I stand idly by.
“Fine,” I say, shoulders sagging. “I’ll let you go.”
“Yes!”
“Shut up,” I snarl. “I’m not doing this for you.”
I rush around him and start undoing the knots around his wrists first.
“Faster.”
“I’m going as fast as I can.”
“Do you have a knife or something?” he demands. “You can cut through them.”
“Are you high? This has to look like you escaped.”
“The grille was fucking locked,” Xander points out. “How could I have gotten out without help?”
“Right. Shit.”
“Okay… I’ll have to admit to unlocking you,” I reply, thinking fast. “But under duress.”
“Huh?”
I manage to loosen the binds around his hands. “I mean it has to look like you attacked me and forced me to unlock you.”
“Uh… okay?”
He sounds skeptical, but I know he’s not real keen on my explanation. After all, he’s going to be long gone by then.
“Whatever, I’ll deal with the explanation. You just stick to your part of this bargain.”
“I’ll make sure Vanessa is okay.”
“Not just ‘okay,’” I clarify, getting in his face. “I want her freed.”
“Fine.”
“And Xander?”
“What?”
“Besides Bartek, who else knows about Evie?”
“A few of Bartek’s men,” Xander replies. “But they all died that night Bartek did.”
“Good,” I sigh, with relief. “Don’t mention her to anyone, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Promise?”
“I just said—”
“Xander!”
“Fine! I fucking promise.”
I nod, just as he manages to remove the restraints from around his legs.
“Finally,” he sighs before getting to his feet.
“The compound is pretty secure,” I tell him. “But there’s one blind spot that I know of. You should be able to get out without being detected if you follow my instructions. I’ll take you there.”
“Great,” he replies distractedly. He’s a bit shaky at first, but soon, he gets his bearings. Of course he makes right for the door without any regard for me.
“Hold on, you fucking moron,” I snap. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“You want a quick fuck before I leave?”
I punch him in the stomach, hard and fast.
He groans, keeling forward just a little.
“We have to make it look like there was a struggle,” I remind him. I grit my teeth. “You’ll have to hit me.”
He looks at me in shock. “Are you serious?”
I frown at him. “You don’t think I can take a punch?” I ask. “This wouldn’t be the first time a man has hit me.”
Xander raises his eyebrows. “Who hit you?”
I glare at him. “Can we save this conversation for another time?”
“Right… okay, punching you… okay… let’s do this.”
I roll my eyes. “You don’t have to sound so excited about it.”
“What the fuck do you want from me?”
“Just do it!”
I see his fist coming for my face.
My first instinct is to move.
But I don’t.
I stand still.
I hold my ground.
I brace for impact.
But even the pain of my ex’s fist in my face pales in the face of the pain I feel inside.
The pain of betraying the only man who ever kept me safe.
41
Lucio
The clock strikes two-thirty in the morning.
Unable to ignore the nagging at the back of my head, I make the call.
“Boss?”
“Enzo, you still on watch over there?”
“Of course,” Enzo replies. His voice sounds hushed on the other end of the line. “Haven’t left my post in hours. All’s quiet here.”
“Evie?”
“I’ve got eyes on the room that Evie’s in with her little friend,” he confirms. “There’s only a night lamp on. Stars and planets and shit on the ceiling. No movement in hours.”
I breathe a little easier when I hear that.
“How’re the parents?”
“Curious about you, I think,” Enzo admits. “But I mentioned you were away on business.”
“Did a background check on both of them.”
“And?”
“Both came up clean as a whistle. The father’s a pediatrician. Mother stays at home. She offered me cookies when I dropped Evie off.”
“Good,” I reply distractedly.
“Don’t worry, boss,” Enzo assures me. “I’ve got your little girl. She’s safe.”
I nod. He is a good man. “Grazie, Enzo.”
I hang up and breathe a sigh of relief.
I hadn’t expected to feel so strange with having Evie out of the house. It’s only one night, but I’m nervous about it.
I’ve never had that feeling before.
And just now, when Enzo said, “your little girl”, it felt like my chest expanded somehow.
I sink back into my pillows. But even after the call with Enzo, I can’t seem to lie still long enough to fall asleep.
Maybe because the other girl in this house is driving me fucking nuts.
I still can’t get over her freakout after the Santiago dinner. The woman lost her shit. For no good reason.
The big takeaway?
She doesn’t trust me at all.
I sit up at the sound of approaching footsteps. Light footsteps. Feminine footsteps.
That can’t be any of my men…
The pounding on my door jerks me out of bed.
And her strangled cry strikes a chord of fear in my gut.
“Lucio!”
I yank open the door to find Charlotte standing on the other side. Tears are rolling down her face and there’s fresh bruising along her jaw and cheek.
“What the fuck?”
“I’m sorry,” she gasps. Her sobs make it difficult to understand her at first. “I’m so sorry… I… he left… he ran… I… I…”
I grab her by the shoulders and pull her to me. She careens into my chest and I can feel her heartbeat thumping erratically against mine.
She’s tense at first. Taut from head to toe and shaking like a leaf.
But with each sob and each passing second, she melts more and more into me.
“Hey, hey,” I say soothingly. “Calm down, Charlotte. Calm down and talk to me.”
Her hands scrabble up around my torso. I’m not wearing a shirt, so she grips my naked back instead, her nails digging into my skin. Her tears are wet against my chest.
“I’m sorry…” she keeps hiccupping.
“Charlotte, breathe. Tell me what happened.”
“I went downstairs for a glass of water,” she stammers. “I couldn’t sleep and I just needed to get out of my room. I got my glass of water and I was passing the cellar when I heard noises…”
