My breath came in ragged bursts by the time I finally let him drop.
He slumped against the wall, head lolling to one side.
I crouched—wincing—and pressed two fingers to his neck.
Pulse.
There.
Weak. But steady.
I pushed myself back up slowly, swaying slightly as dizziness threatened to take me down with him.
“I’ll hold him hostage,” I whispered into the silence, my voice rough, barely audible. “Use him as leverage until Vincenzo finds me.”
My gaze lingered on his unconscious form.
“Over my dead body will I become anyone’s sex slave.”
The words tasted like ash.
I sank back against the edge of the bed, my body finally giving in as the adrenaline drained out of me all at once.
Pain rushed in to take its place.
Every injury. Every bruise. Every open wound.
But I stayed upright.
Stayed awake.
I had to.
I couldn’t afford to black out again.
Not here.
Not now.
Chapter 21
ELENA
Four weeks later.
The air smelled clean.
A sharp contrast to the damp, suffocating stink of that concrete cell that still lingered in my memory like a stain.
I stood hunched over the bathroom sink in the guest wing of Vincenzo’s estate, both hands braced against the cool marble.
My reflection stared back at me.
Paler. Thinner.
Still healing.
But alive.
