Page 6 of Marked By the Mob

We move forward through the crowd as handlers prepare to transfer custody. Men step aside as we approach, their expressions ranging from curiosity to hostility. I ignore them all. My attention remains fixed on the woman kneeling on the stage.

Up close, she is even more striking than I realized. Her face is bruised from whatever fight preceded her arrival here, and dried blood stains the corner of her mouth.

But her eyes are clear and sharp, tracking our approach with the focused intensity of a predator evaluating threats.

The handler holding her chain tries to pass it to me. I take it but immediately drop the length of metal to the floor. The woman’s eyes narrow slightly at the gesture, though her expression does not change.

“Can you walk?” I ask in English.

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she rises to her feet with surprising grace despite the shackles, her movements controlled and deliberate.

Eduard steps forward and produces a key, unlocking the chains around her ankles first then reaching for her wrists.

The moment her hands are free, she moves. Her elbow drives toward Eduard’s ribs, but he blocks it smoothly and steps back, giving her space. Artur moves to intercept, but I raise my hand, stopping him.

“Let her breathe,” I say quietly.

The woman stands between us, her hands flexing as circulation returns to her wrists.

She looks at each of us in turn, her gaze lingering on my face last.

When she speaks, her voice is low and cold, carrying the weight of absolute conviction.

“I will destroy every one of you.”

The promise hangs in the air between us, sharp and dangerous.

I meet her eyes steadily, seeing the fury and determination burning there. Most men would be intimidated. Most men would respond with threats or violence to reassert control.

I simply nod once, acknowledging her words.

Then I gesture toward the exit. “We should leave. This place is not safe for any of us.”

She does not move immediately. Her gaze sweeps across the warehouse one final time, memorizing faces and details the way I knew she would.

When she finally turns toward the exit, she walks ahead of us rather than beside us, her spine straight and her head high despite everything she has endured tonight.

Artur falls into step on her left. Eduard moves to her right. I follow slightly behind, watching the room for threats as we make our way toward the door.

As I watch her walk through the crowd of criminals with fearless defiance, I realize something important.

We may have purchased her tonight, but claiming her will be an entirely different battle.

3

EMMA

I don’t speak during the drive.

The three men who bought me sit in silence as well, which suits me fine.

The SUV is expensive, armored, and moves through the city with the kind of confidence that comes from knowing no one will stop you. I catalog every detail. The driver’s posture. The route we take. Street names when I can catch them through the tinted windows.

The blond one sits across from me, his pale blue eyes watching with an intensity that makes my skin prickle.

He’s the one who spoke first at the auction, the one who dropped my chain like it burned him.

The dark-haired one with the crooked smile lounges beside him, relaxed in a way that feels deliberately casual.