I test the cot’s stability, trying to see if I can move it. The metal frame scrapes against concrete, the sound horrifically loud in the quiet warehouse. My chest screams in protest, and I have to stop, gasping through waves of agony that threaten to make me pass out.
You can do this, I tell myself, the words fierce in my mind even if I can’t say them aloud.You’ve survived everything else. You can survive this too.
For myself. For the baby. For the slim chance that Luca and I might?—
Nope. I can’t think about that. I can’t let myself hope for anything beyond getting out of here alive.
I try moving the cot again, slower this time. Inch by painful inch, using my legs against the floor for leverage even though the effort makes my vision blur and my stomach heave with nausea.
The sound of footsteps outside makes me freeze.
Multiple sets. Heavy boots on concrete.
The door opens, and Romano walks in flanked by two of his men. Both armed and looking at me like I’m already dead.
“Ah, trying to escape?” Romano’s voice carries amusement as he takes in the cot’s new position, the sweat beading on my forehead, the way I’m gasping with pain. “How admirable. Your husband would be proud.”
“Fuck you,” I manage through clenched teeth.
He laughs. “Such spirit! Even now, bleeding and broken, you still have fight left in you.” He moves closer, and I see something in his hand. A phone. “I thought you might like to see what your husband’s been up to while you’ve been resting.”
He holds up the screen, and my heart stops.
It’s news footage. Building fires. Body counts. Police statements about gang violence reaching unprecedented levels. And through it all, grainy security camera footage of Luca covered in blood, leaving a trail of destruction across Chicago.
“He’s been quite busy,” Romano comments, scrolling through more footage. “Forty-three of my men dead or missing. Six buildings destroyed. Two operations completely shut down. The police are calling it the worst outbreak of gang violence in adecade.” He looks up at me, smugness radiating off him. “All because of you.”
The guilt threatens to crush me. “I-I didn’t ask for this,” I whisper.
“Of course you didn’t. But that’s the beauty of it, isn’t it?” Romano pockets the phone. “You didn’t have to ask. Luca loves you enough to burn the world down trying to find you. And when he finally gets here, when he walks through that door thinking he’s going to save you—” His smile turns cruel. “That’s when I’ll break him completely.”
“Why?” The question bursts out of me. “Why go through all this? Why not just kill him and be done with it?”
“Because death is too quick.” Romano’s eyes are cold, empty of anything resembling humanity. “Three years ago, Marco Marchetti died in this warehouse. I watched him refuse to betray his cousin through hours of torture. That kind of loyalty is rare. Admirable, even.” He pauses. “But it also showed me how to really hurt Luca. Not by killing him, but by taking away everyone he loves. Marco first. Now you. Making him watch as everything he cares about is destroyed.”
The calculated cruelty of it steals my breath.
“When he arrives,” Romano continues, “he’ll find you here. Bleeding. Dying. And he’ll have a choice—try to save you and die himself, or watch you die slowly while he lives knowing he couldn’t protect you. Then I’ll kill him anyway.” His smile widens. “Either way, I win. The man who’s been threatening my empire gets destroyed and then eliminated. And I get to rebuild in the ashes.”
He turns to leave, then pauses. “Oh, and don’t bother trying to escape. The doctor has orders to keep you alive and conscious, but he’s not particular about how much pain you’re in. Try anything, and I’ll have him break your legs. Clear?”
I don’t answer. I can’t answer past the rage and fear choking my throat.
The door closes. The lock engages.
And I’m alone again with the terrible knowledge that I’m not just bait in Romano’s trap—I’m the weapon he’s going to use to destroy Luca completely.
But as I lie here in pain and the dim light filtering through dirty windows, something hardens inside me. A core of determination that Romano’s threats can’t touch.
I’mnotgoing to be his weapon. I’mnotgoing to be the reason Luca breaks.
I’m going to survive this. For myself. For my baby.
The zip ties cut into my wrists as I start working them again, ignoring the pain, ignoring the way each movement makes the wound in my chest throb.
I’ve learned too much about survival to give up now.
27
