My gaze slides across his hulking body, looking for any signs of recognition. It doesn’t escape me that I haven’t recognized a single one of these men so far. The guys and I know the vast majority of Gus’ lackeys. Is it possible we’re not with Gus after all? I take in his tattoos before zeroing in on his forearm, wherea large, smirking clown tattoo stretches grotesquely across his skin.
My brows furrow. Why does that look so familiar?
The asshole cackles, a sound that sends a chill down my spine.
“Well, well, well,” he drawls, his voice deep and mocking as he scans the room. “Looks like you’ve been having some fun, huh?” He steps into the cell, taking in the two fallen men with a casual glance. “They’re nothing compared to me, though. Better pray they’re dead, ‘cause if they aren’t, Gus is gonna kill them for failing.”
I slowly rise to my feet, rolling my shoulders as I square up to him.
“You want some, fucker?” I jerk my chin, daring him to make the first move. I know I’m outmatched in size, but I’ve taken down bigger ones before. It’s all about precision, timing, and the willingness to go further than they will.
It’s about having something—someone, to fight for.
The guy just smirks, and without breaking eye contact, he waves his hand behind him. A group of men file in, each one cracking their knuckles, their faces set in grim determination. My eyes flicker over them, assessing the threat.
They’re not just muscle—they’re here to send a message.
The man with the clown tattoo shakes his head, still smirking.
“Oh no,” he says, his voice dripping with sadistic glee. “Boss has something special planned for you and yourbitch boys.” He sneers as he uses the term, clearly trying to get under my skin. “But first, we’ve got a thank you gift from the men you’ve killed.”
The tension in the room snaps like a wire stretched too tight, and they descend on me all at once. I brace myself, fists up, ready to fight like hell.
The first one who comes at me gets a solid hit to the throat, but the others close in quickly, overwhelming me with their sheernumbers. It’s chaos—fists, boots, and bodies all crashing into me from every direction.
I’m fighting back, but there are too many of them.
The pain is blinding, every hit sending shockwaves through my body, but I can’t stop. I won’t stop. All I need to do is survive until I can get back to her.
Mi princesa.
The thought of Isabella is the only thing that keeps me going, the only thing that matters. As the darkness starts to creep in at the edges of my vision, I cling to that image of her, refusing to let it go. No matter what they do to me, I’ll survive. I have to. For her.
Chapter 32
Isit on thecold, matted floor of the gym, my hands slowly working the tape around my knuckles. The sharp smell of disinfectant lingers in the air, mixing with the faint scent of sweat and metal. It reminds me of the guys’ gym back home. Ofthe Den. It might even be comforting if everything around me didn’t feel so sterile.
If my heart didn’t hurt so badly.
The space is massive, easily the size of two, maybe three, standard gyms. The floors are covered in thick, dark gray mats that cushion every step, absorbing the impact of even the heaviest blows. Everything is top-of-the-line, the kind of equipment you’d expect in a high-tech underground facility like this one.
Maddox and Gage would lose their fucking minds. Against my will, a small smile lifts my lips. I’ll have to bring them here after…
I freeze and swallow hard.
I will bring them here when I get them back. There is no alternative.
My hands go back to the familiar task of taping my knuckles as my gaze slides across the space. A boxing ring dominates the far side of the room, the ropes gleaming under the harsh fluorescent lights and I find myself missing the massive skylights at the Den. Around it, state-of-the-art treadmills, weight machines, and free weights are neatly arranged, their sleek, modern designs standing out against the cold concrete walls.
Even the mirrors lining one side of the room seem colder than usual, reflecting back the stark reality of this place. There’s nothing warm here, nothing that feels remotely human, just like the rest of the compound. I guess that’s what you get when you’re so far beneath the dirt, surrounded by cold earth instead of sunlight.
God, I miss the sun.
I hope wherever the guys are, they’re warm.
I pull the tape tighter around my wrist, gritting my teeth against the anxiety clawing at my insides.
Not for the first time, I wonder how Madeline got the money for all of this. The gym alone must have cost a fortune, and that’s just one part of this sprawling underground complex. Everything here screams wealth, power, control.
