Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
The horror movie vibe makes fear tighten my muscles.
Jesus. What the fuck is this place?
“Rosie.”
My head snaps to the bars, and seeing a man, I take in his brown hair, black eyes, and the neutral expression on his face. I guess him to be in his late thirties or early forties.
“How do you feel?” he asks.
I stare at him for a moment before dread crashes over me and everything that’s happened floods my mind.
The attack. My men. Alessio. Raffaele.
The heartache is too unbearable to handle.
The call with Enzo while trying to get to safety. Hearing his pain.
It hurts too much to even think about how this will affect Enzo.
The crippling fear I was faced with.
I had to press the button. The family always comes first. But goddamn, I really thought I was toast.
The frantic rush to get to the SUV and being restrained.
Who the fuck has me? Where am I? What is this place?
It feels like someone takes a sledgehammer to my heart, the anguish so intense, I can’t breath past it.
My men.
My family.
Enzo.
The sound that leaves me is more like a whine from a beaten dog than a human.
I look down, and seeing the cuffs around my wrist, connected by a short length of chain, makes my lips part as panic claws its way up my throat. My breaths speed up dangerously fast when I notice heavy shackles encircling my ankles, also linked together by a chain. My sneakers and socks are gone, but at least I’m still wearing my baggy jeans and T-shirt.
The chains are probably there to give me enough movement to keep me mobile while making sure escape isn’t an option.
A shiver moves over my body, and I curl into myself.
Jesus, it’s cold in here.
“Rosie!” This time the man’s voice carries a tone of authority. When my eyes snap to his face, there’s still no emotion. “I asked how you feel?”
I recognize his voice. He’s the one who grabbed and chloroformed the hell out of me.
I think he led the attack, which tells me he’s in a position of power.
Pushing all the confusion and pain aside, I lift my chin and level him with a ruthless look. “It’s Miss La Rosa to you. Only my friends get to use my name.”
He nods. “How do you feel, Miss La Rosa?”
“Jesus, you’re really persistent. How do you think I feel? You destroyed my home and killed my men.”
Not replying to what I just said, he asks, “Any nausea? Double vision? Headache?”
Headache… yes.
Body… feels like Enzo made me run a hundred laps.
Nausea… enough that I wouldn’t try eating, but I could do with some water.
I glance at the sink and scrunch my nose in disgust.
“You’re thirsty.”
“And you’re creepy,” I snap while climbing to my feet. My head spins a little, but I don’t let it stop me from walking to the bars. “Where am I? Who are you? And why?”
“Russia. You can call me Kirill, and you’re here because you’re the best in your field.”
I’m so surprised he answered my questions that I stare at him, but then the doubt sinks in.
Kirill reads my expression like a book and says, “You’re never leaving here, so there’s no reason to hide anything from you. Come, I’ll show you around your new home.”
My eyebrows lift when he unlocks the… gate, for lack of a better word. Carefully stepping out of the cell, I glance around me, taking in as much as possible.
My cell is just one of many that line the second level on all four sides, connected by a metal walkway that overlooks the vast open space below.
Is this a prison?
Despite the building looking very old, it’s surprisingly clean. The floors seem to get mopped on a regular basis, and the railings gleam under the bright industrial lights.
When I look down to the first floor, I see rows of tables, each occupied by someone working behind a computer. The steady tapping of keyboards fills the air, mixing with the low hum of electronics.
Mounted against the far wall, a giant screen displays columns of red numbers that constantly change, and an amount at the top that keeps climbing higher with every passing second.
Armed men move between the desks, rifles slung across their chests as they keep watch over everyone.
“This is the team that kept you busy the past week and a half while my men slipped into New York unnoticed.”
My eyes widen as they snap to Kirill.
So all the hacking attempts were a diversion? Holy shit!
God dammit! I should’ve looked into those three Russian men I saw near the plant where Enzo and Riccardo met with the cartel.
“They also wiped out any trace of us ever being there, so the Cosa Nostra won’t find anything if they do a search.” His black eyes remain locked with mine. “We’ve scanned you for a tracker. I have to admit I was surprised you didn’t have one.”