Enzo walks from the SUV to the garage elevator with me in tow. I swear he’s put a little extra bounce in his step just to annoy me. When I wiggle around in an attempt to get him to put me down, his large hand comes crashing down on my bare ass cheek with a loudslapthat echoes throughout the elevator.
“Asshole,” I grumble.
Stavros stands beside us with Drew over his shoulder. His hands are tied, and a black cloth bag is tied around his head. Two things I never saw happen.
“Did I pass out or something?” I ask, talking to myself, but it’s Enzo who answers.
“Your adrenaline crashed. Your body shut itself down. You weren’t out very long.” But it was long enough for us to arrive at The Mansion and for Drew to be tied up and covered, which means I was out about an hour at least.
Shit.
Losing consciousness around Enzo when he’s filled with such fury, most of which is currently aimed at me, is not safe. He could’ve done anything to me in my vulnerable state.
“Thank you,” I say softly. If Stavros hears me, he doesn’t let on.
“For what? Why are you thanking me?” Enzo asks, amused.
“For not taking advantage of me while I slept.” I swallow hard. “You could’ve …” My voice drops off because I don’t know how to finish that sentence. He could’ve done a lot of things. Some of which I highly suspect he’s already thought about and has called ahead to plan for. Enzo Venatti is thorough in his work. He’s also very methodical with his planning. He must be to do some of the shit I’ve heard about.
The elevator goes down instead of up, to my surprise.
“Where are we going?” Enzo doesn’t answer right away. He doesn’t have to. When the doors open, I can smell for myself where we are.
Stavros steps out with Drew still slung over his shoulder and asks, “Where do you want me to put him?”
“The fourth cell at the far end,” Enzo instructs. “I’ll be back to deal with him later.” The doors to the elevator close, and my heart plummets. I just sentenced Drew to his death for trying to protect me.
“Don’t hurt him, Enzo. He had nothing to do with what happened tonight. Drew didn’t even know I was going to the Landing Strip. He’s innocent in this matter,” I plead.
“He still disrespected the Don of the Venatti family. That in itself is enough for me to punish him.” Enzo says matter-of-factly. He has a point. He is within his rights to punish him. If he had disrespected Papa, he would’ve been taught a lesson, but if I hadn’t snuck off, Drew never would’ve been there in the first place. He wouldn’t have felt the need to try to protect me, and none of this would’ve happened.
But I need to find Annanias.
Guilt, heavy as a boulder, sits in the pit of my stomach.
“Don’t kill him,” I beg softly. “Please.”
Enzo grunts.
The doors of the elevator open. This floor looks oddly familiar from this angle. I’m spun around slightly as Enzo fishes in his pocket and pulls out a key, then opens the door. He stalks over to the bed and unceremoniously drops me onto it.
He walks around to the side of the bed, and out of instinct, using my feet, I try to scoot myself to the other side. If I can get my feet over the edge, I can get myself up onto my feet. It wouldn’t stop him from coming for me, but I still feel an overwhelming need for space between us.
Enzo opens the drawer, and just as I’m about to drop my legs over the edge, he grabs my hip, hooking his arm around me and pulls me back to the center of the mattress, dragging me closer to him. I let out a yelp and begin twisting and kicking my legs. My knee comes up, hitting him in the side of the face. Enzo grunts, then lets out a low growl of frustration, flipping me onto my stomach.
He climbs onto the bed, straddling my hips and leaning onto my back. Holding himself up with his arms, his body pins mine in place. That’s when I see the knife he’s holding in his hand. My heart rate skitters.
Shit. He’s really going to go through with this.
No, I’m not going to let him flay me like he does his other victims. Not without a fight. I push up with my ass, uselessly trying to move him off me, but he’s too heavy. Enzo sits up. I losethe warmth of his body and his weight, then he grabs my wrists and cuts them loose.
What?
I don’t waste the opportunity and immediately push my torso up, but it’s no use. Enzo bands his arm across my belly and rolls us both so he’s under me, my back to his torso and his legs engulf mine, pinning me down. I’m struggling to move his arm off me, but the bastard lifts his arm, then with the other, grips my wrist, pulling my arm up over my head and locks it into a handcuff that I never saw dangling from the headboard.
I continue to push and pull and scratch at his arms, fighting to get loose. He reaches up with both hands. One gripping my other wrist and the other grabbing the matching cuff. It takes him mere seconds to have me locked down with his body still underneath mine.
I lift my head and drop it back, but he expects the move and blocks his face with his hand.
