“Don't worry, honey. You're in good hands now.”
I spat on him, and he slapped me right across my left cheek.
“Now, be a good girl, okay?” My pulse charged up in rage, adrenaline pumped up to a whole new level that made me shout loudly. Sadly, my voice only travelled around the warehouse and couldn't reach the outside walls.
He scrunched a large piece of white cloth and stuck it in my mouth. I was controlled by the nausea and fear of having a dirty cloth in my mouth. I tried to breathe, but it seemed impossible. He stretched out the duct tape and covered my mouth.
*Now, we will take her.” He said.
We marched to the docks of the river, close to a nearby cathedral. The air was fresh, at least, and the atmosphere was chill.
A boat was tied to the wooden rail on the left side. They kept me there, and I sat in silence while they discussed things I felt weren't relevant. Not until the bald guy asked a terrifying question.
“Any response from Viktor?”
“No, not yet. The phone hasn't rang since the last time we called.”
“They must think we're joking.”
“Maybe.” The other guy with the afro puff said while he smoked a cigarette. “If we don't act fast, it might be too late for us.”
“But we gave them 12 hours to pay the ransom, or else she'd be gone.” Said another in their circle, and their discussion terrified me.
“Men like Viktor Lobanov don't play by the rules because they think they're the ones who make the rules. I guess it's high time we change that narrative.
“What do you mean?” The guy with the afro asked the bald guy, and he smiled.
“We're going to sell her.”
“That's crazy. Even for you. Viktor is going to kill us all.”
“Not unless we kill him first.”
My mind couldn't capture their discussion due to the gravity of what they said. What on earth was happening to these people? I began to pray that Viktor would mysteriously come. The freedom that I never knew I'd get deprived of because of the one that I eagerly sought.
“So, how much are we talking here? I mean, to sell the wife of the King of New York should have a reasonable price, huh?”
My eyes widened in shock. Life began to take a different meaning. It felt this way when I got into Viktor’s mansion for the first time. I felt genuinely scared, unsure if I'd live or die.
“A couple of million won't be bad. Say ten million.”
“Or hundreds of millions.”
“Or even a billion could work. The Russian and Italian mafias are sworn enemies of the Bratva. They'd give anything. Whatever the price is, no matter how obscene, they'd pay for it.
“So, we're shipping her offshore before negotiation.”
Come on, Viktor, please come. I know Viktor to be a very ruthless man. No one ever tampers with what's his and gets off scot free. I had faith more than ever that he'd come for me. My husband would come for me, and all these plans would be nothing but wishes.
I heard something move among the grass, and I turned to my side to check what that was. Another step was made, and then a twitch of what seemed to be a broken piece of dry wood.
“Hey, hold up. Do you guys hear something?” The guy with the Afro said and drew the attention of the others. Flashlights scanned the area while they looked for the source of the noise.
And then it happened. A bullet hit one of the men close to me.
“I'm hit!” He cried out, and the bald guy carried me in his arms and ran back to the warehouse.
The exchange of bullets continued, and I heard wails, groans, and the cry of those same men who planned to sell me out. This could mean one of two things. Either Viktor had come to rescue me, or the cops did.
