Dirty Revenge

by Ella Miles

If I had the knife, I could kill him. Or at the least injure him.

  But if he caught me, it would be so much worse.

  I try to still my body and become invisible. Dante isn’t paying me any attention. Whoever is on the phone has Dante captivated.

  Dante frowns and then keeps walking, out of view.

  My heart stops. He left me alone.

  He didn’t tie me up.

  I’m alone with a weapon.

  I don’t know how long he’s going to be gone, but I won’t wait to see.

  This is my chance.

  I force my body up from the couch. I expect unthinkable pain to roll through my body and drop me back to the couch, but I feel nothing.

  Adrenaline or hope has filled my body, making it impossible for me to feel pain.

  I grin, my cheeks flush, and my body moves. This ends today. I’m either going to be free or die trying.

  I race across the room to snatch the knife. I move too fast and too slow at the same time. In reality, I have no idea how fast I walk.

  I keep one eye on the glass wall, expecting Dante to return into view at any second. When my hand grasps the smooth surface of the black handle of the knife, I feel hope. Real hope.

  I can escape.

  I grip the knife firmly in my hand as I face the door. I could wait for Dante to return and stab him the second he enters. Or I could take my chance and run.

  I tiptoe to the door, keeping the knife hidden down by my side as I lean against the door to see if Dante is just outside the door.

  The hallway is empty.

  My hands are sweaty as I work to hold onto the knife. I don’t have much strength. I’m standing purely on adrenaline.

  If Dante returns, it will take everything I have to stab him. It will just be luck whether I kill him or not.

  I’m not waiting.

  I glance back at his desk and notice a pair of keys. When did he toss his car keys onto his desk?

  I don’t bother trying to remember. I grab the keys with my other hand, and then, after taking one breath filling my body with every drop of air in the room to give me the courage to step into the hallway, I push the door open.

  I open it slowly, ensuring any creaks of the door remain silent.

  Silence.

  I step out, holding onto the door as it carefully closes.

  Silence.

  I look to the left and then right. Dante disappeared to the right. So my feet move left.

  Slow at first. Careful, cautious. But after two steps, I can’t wait to get to freedom. I run or fly. I don’t know which. All I know is my body soars down the hallway and to the elevator. The doors open the second I press the button, and I step inside. My pulse fires through my body as my mind flutters with thoughts of everything that could go wrong.

  I press the ground floor button and catch my breath while the elevator descends. I don’t know what is waiting for me when the doors open downstairs, but I hold the knife out, ready to attack.

  The doors finally open, after what seems like years to my anxious body.

  Nothing.

  I don’t have time to revel in another win. My feet run again. Legs, which aren’t broken, compel my body forward, step after step. And even if my legs are broken, they work anyway.

  I zero in on the door, only glancing to my left when I pass the final hallway before reaching the door.

  Nothing. No one.

  I don’t hesitate as I push the door open and step out into the sunlight. I want to lie flat on the concrete and let the sun heal me, but I’ll have to wait until I’m somewhere safer.

  My feet keep moving quickly as I grab the door handle of the Maserati Dante drove me here in. I pull on the handle, but it doesn’t open.

  I frown.

  Dante has one of these keyless entries. The kind that you don’t have to press a button to enter the car. You only need to have the keys on you, and the doors unlock automatically.

  I fidget with the keys, find the fob, and press the unlock button. Then, I grab the door handle again and pull.

  It doesn’t budge.

  Shit.

  I press the button over and over, but nothing happens. I try inserting the key into the door, but it doesn’t fit.

  These keys don’t belong to the Maserati.

  I look around the parking lot, but there is only one other car. A Fiat. I press the unlock button again, but the car is silent as well. It doesn’t come to life.

  Dante didn’t pull these keys out of his pocket. These keys belong to a different car or a different owner.

  I throw the keys at Dante’s Maserati, watching as a tiny dent forms.

  I smile a minuscule amount. The first smile I can recall in a month. A dent in his precious car is sure to enrage him.

  My feet start flying again, as I move out of the parking lot to the road. I don’t see or hear cars coming in either direction. I have two choices. Run along the road and hope I run into someone who can help me, or disappear into the woods.

  I chose a man last time to help me. It was a mistake. This time, I choose me. I choose the woods. I’ll disappear into the woods. Hopefully, Dante will think I chose the road. I’ll hide in the woods for a couple of days until I can find a way to get to a phone.

  I run across the road and disappear into the woods. I glance behind me but don’t see anyone following me.

  I’m free.

  I take another step though, and my legs give out. It’s almost as if they only had the strength to make it to the edge of freedom, but not enough to finish the job.

  NO! Get up.

  I grab onto a tree trunk and force myself to stand again. I can’t keep running. I have to take things slowly. Very, very slowly. I hate it, but I don’t have a choice.

  It’s okay. I have time. Dante will look here last. I need to find a place to hide in. I could gather some leaves and cover myself and hide until dark falls. Give my legs some rest; then I might be able to move again.

  Or I could freeze or starve to death.

  I need to keep moving for as long as I can.

  “Stop.”

  My legs stop at the command. It’s what they are desperate for: a reason to stop. They’ve done so much and gotten me so far, but they aren’t enough to take me miles from here.

  I grip the knife tighter in my hand as it rests by my side. I don’t know if the man behind me has seen the blade or not. I don’t know if the man behind me is my foe or friend. I lean toward foe.

  I settle my breathing, trying to appear natural, but there is no way any person would take a look at me and think something isn’t wrong.

  I hear the crunch of leaves behind me as the man approaches me.

  My jaw ticks, while the rest of my body remains still. I purse my lips again, letting all the anxiety out of me. One stab. I can get one stab in. It will give me an adrenaline rush again, and then I’ll be able to run. I just have to wait until the man is close enough to stab.

  More crunching of leaves, and then a hand on my shoulder.

  I turn as fast as my body will allow me and bring the knife up to jab into the man’s shoulder. I don’t care if he is a friend. I don’t trust anyone.

  My knife dives toward him, but his hand grasps my wrist, inches before it plunges into his chest.

  My eyes flicker to his.

  Conti.

  Fuck.

  His eyes are unreadable as he stares at me, still holding onto my wrist.

  I’m going back to Dante.

  “Please,” I whisper.

  Conti’s eyes narrow, but I don’t have a clue what that means.

  “Drop the knife.”

  I stare up at the knife. At my salvation.

  “I can’t.”

  He nods as if he understands.

  “I’ll let you run if you want to run, but Dante will find you before morning. He knows you are missing. That’s why I’m here.”

  I nod.

  “Or you can come with me.”

  I laugh. I don’t know why
. Maybe because I need the release. “I will never become Dante’s again.”

  He nods. “I wasn’t asking you to go back to Dante. I was asking you to be mine.”

  “I don’t want to belong to anyone. I want to be free.”

  “No one is ever free.”

  Sadness. That is what I see, mixed with lust, in his eyes.

  “I was.”

  “No, you weren’t. You belonged to the rich, the powerful. You belonged to your family. You never belonged to yourself.”

  “Why would I go with you? Why would I trust you? Last time you turned me over to Dante.”

  “Last time I didn’t have a choice. I didn’t know what I was giving up. Now I do. I want you, Gia Carini.”

  He knows my name, and it feels good to hear something other than cunt or whore. But he turned me over. He’s raped me before.

  “You’re no better than him,” I say, unable to speak the devil’s name, or even think it for another second.

  “No, I’m not better than him. In fact, I’m probably worse. I’m not saying I’m offering you deliverance. I’m not saving you. Just offering you a new master.”

  He speaks the truth. Every one of his words. I believe him.

  “What will happen if I go with you, Conti? Will you rape me, torture me, and beat me?”

  His jaw twitches.

  “Maybe. Maybe, I’ll do worse. And the name is Caspian. Conti is my father’s name.”

  My face softens when I hear Caspian. I try to reread this man. Last time, I saw kindness. I saw hope. This time, I’m realistic. It wasn’t kindness I saw before. It was pain and sadness. I see it now. Now that I’ve felt it.

  This man is broken, same as me. He’s not evil like Dante is. Caspian may not treat me well, but he won’t hurt me in the same way Dante did.

  Caspian may rape me, hurt me, beat me, but not with the same hatred. Caspian’s rage comes from a place of pain. Pain can weaken, hate can’t.

  “Choose Gia. The woods, where Dante will find you, or me.”

  Nothing can be worse than Dante. I don’t trust Caspian, but I believe him. I don’t know what faces me, but I don’t have a choice.

  “You.”

  7

  Caspian

  I should be overseeing the security team. I should be at Dante’s house ensuring the system I set up is working flawlessly. I should be on the phone with Dante, schmoozing him, and making sure he thinks everything I’m doing is to make him more secure.

  Instead, I’m standing at the edge of the woods, while the most entrancing woman I’ve ever met tells me she will come with me.

  I shouldn’t be here.

  I shouldn’t steal Gia.

  It could ruin everything.

  Gia isn’t the type of woman who is barely noticed. She blazes in, knocking down walls, and setting fire to everything in her path. Some people survive and are made stronger because she was in their life, but most dissolve into ashes.

  Gia takes one step and her leg trembles. I’ve studied her body for the last three minutes, and I know her leg is broken. She can walk on it, but only because there is so much adrenaline pulsing through her veins. Adrenaline is the only thing keeping her moving. And it is almost gone. She won’t be standing much longer.

  I rush to her side, my arms finally able to wrap around her body again. I grab onto her waist, and her hands grip my forearms.

  Gia is filthy. Covered in layers of dirt and mud. Her face is swollen, and about ten different shades of black and blue. The only thing left of the Gia I saw that day outside the coffee shop is her eyes. Her eyes still blaze with life.

  Her hair, once straight and shiny, is now tangled and matted. I don’t know if she will ever be able to get the knots out, except by cutting her hair. I can’t even let my eyes travel over the rest of her body. My anger rages too fast in my chest at the number of cuts, bruises, and broken bones.

  I can’t think about what Dante did to her. It will destroy me.

  I don’t let Gia see my rage, instead, I still in strong solitude.

  “I can walk,” Gia says, her voice so fucking determined.

  I chuckle. This is not the time for chuckling. If Dante changes his plans and decides to search these woods, he’ll find us. And I won’t have a choice, but to turn her back over to him.

  “No, you can’t.”

  I don’t give her a choice. I scoop her up in my arms and start jogging back to my car, hidden under a large oak tree on the edge of the street.

  Gia stops fighting once she’s in my arms. She doesn’t have a choice. I try to do anything to keep from looking at her. In just a few minutes, she’ll be mine. Dante will have no chance to get her back. I can look at her all I want then. Do more than look at her.

  Having Gia in my arms makes it impossible for me to focus though. All I can do is breathe in her scent. Before she smelt like roses. It still lingers in her hair, but now she reeks of Dante. Musky, sweaty, and manly.

  I need to change that.

  I bite my bottom lip to keep from growling as my legs move faster to get her away from this devil.

  Gia doesn’t move in my arms. She lays her head on my chest, and I know her eyes are open because I can feel them burning into a spot on my chin. Don’t look at her.

  I make it to my Fiat, and though I know she would be more comfortable in a backseat where she could lie down on the journey ahead, I’m glad my car doesn’t have a backseat. I need her near me. I need to be able to touch her and keep my eyes on her as we drive. Otherwise, I’ll lose my damn mind.

  So that’s where I put her, before hopping in the driver’s seat. My heart pounds half from stress and half from anger. It’s been a long time since I cared so much about a mission working out like this one. It takes everything inside of me not to call Dante and drive straight to him before pulling out my gun and shooting him dead.

  How could he ever think it was okay to maim such a beautiful spirit?

  “You going to drive or do I need to?” Gia says. She’s slouched in the chair, not even able to hold her head up. There is no way she can drive. Her sly smile and rosy cheeks warm my heart.

  He didn’t damage her spirit. It’s very much alive.

  I speed out of our spot, slinging Gia against the window as I do.

  “Much better,” she says, as she slowly pushes herself off the window into an upright position.

  I should drive her straight to the hospital. Her body is beaten so much; she no doubt needs countless surgeries to fix her broken bones.

  It won’t be safe.

  The hospital would be one of the first places Dante looks. That’s what I keep telling myself anyway. The truth is I’m a selfish bastard who wants Gia all to myself.

  “Where are we going?” Gia asks, her voice weaker than before. Everything she does drains another quarter of her energy. She should conserve it. Another sentence or two and she’ll pass out from exhaustion.

  “Shh, you should rest. You don’t need to worry about anything. You’re mine, now.”

  I expect her to listen. I know she feels safer than she did with Dante. And for the time being at least, she’s right.

  She doesn’t listen.

  “I’m not anyone’s. I belong to me.”

  Focus on the road. There is no reason to argue semantics with her right now. She’s mine, even if she won’t say it.

  But I see her damn lips curl up. She knows her not saying she’s mine fucks with me.

  I try to figure out what gave me away. Usually, only my sister can read me. My grip is loose on the steering wheel. I’m driving fast, but not excessive. My body is relaxed, sunk into my seat. And my facial expressions are blank.

  Gia looks at me dreamily.

  “What?” I snap a little too loudly.

  This earns me a full smile. Damn it. She likes getting under my skin.

  “Gia, I don’t like being disobeyed. You will learn that soon. So when I ask you a question or give you a command, I expect you to follow it. Understand?” />
  She giggles. “Yes, sir.”

  I glare at her, unable to hold in my rage at her little mistake.

  “Why are you giggling? You think me risking my life to take you is funny?”

  She takes a deep breath, calming her giggles. “No.”

  I hesitate before asking my next question, but it’s the one I want answered the most. “Are you afraid of me?”

  She pauses. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you call me Gia.”

  I shake my head. “That won’t stop me from raping you when I get the chance. It won’t stop my temper from beating you when you disobey me. It won’t stop me from breaking you.”

  She nods. “Maybe not. But you call me Gia instead of whore. You see me as a human instead of property. That’s a start. You can’t be worse than him.”

  I shake my head. She has no idea.

  My phone buzzes, right on cue. My car has the ability to answer calls hands-free, but I don’t want Gia to hear; nor do I want Dante to have a chance at hearing Gia next to me.

  So I retrieve my phone from my pocket and answer the call privately on my phone.

  “Hello, Dante. What can I do for you?” I answer, loving how much it pisses him off to use Dante instead of Mr. Russo. It will never get old.

  “You can get your fucking team to my office ASAP. My whore is missing. Stolen, no doubt. Your fucking fancy security system and team did nothing to stop it!”

  I grin. I can’t help myself at hearing his panic on the other end of the line. Even if I didn’t want Gia for myself, I should have stolen her to listen to his panic.

  “My team wasn’t responsible for you or your whore’s security this afternoon. I told you, you shouldn’t have left the house until the team was set up to escort you.”

  “You don’t get to fucking lecture me, Caspian. Not today! Fucking fix it, or your whole team is fired.”

  “I will have my team meet you at your office. We will find her. If she’s still in Italy, we will find her.”

  “And if she’s not?” Dante’s voice trembles as he speaks.

  “Then, we will find you a new whore while we track down her kidnapper and kill him.”

  I end the call. Pocketing my phone.

  Her eyes are huge as she stares at me. Her smile has vanished. And she’s now as far as she can get from me in her chair.