Page 72 of Brutal Captivity

As Peadar relays the plan, I can't bring myself to pay attention to it because they’re strapping a bomb to my body. I try to stay calm, try to keep my breathing regular, but panic is gripping my throat.

I wish Leo could hold my hand. I wish I didn't have to do this, but I must. Leo is doing a good job at playing the dutiful employee, glancing in my direction every so often. But his concern is etched in his gray diamond eyes.

I can tell Leo is itching to come to me, but he stays rooted to the spot, listening to Peadar explain how they are going to get in. Everything is happening so quickly, my head spins. One moment Peadar is talking, and the next, I am being escorted out of the room by a group of large, angry men with a live bomb strapped to my chest, the detonation device held in Peadar’s hand.

I’m pushed roughly into a van, Leo following me in. I try to calm my breathing by focusing on Leo's comforting presence beside me, but it’s difficult. I’m not even in the moment. I’m not even living in my body. It’s doing what it has to do to survive. Leo grips my hand under the cover of darkness, the feeling of warmth enveloping me for a split second before it’s gone, replaced by cold dread.

Everything is both moving in slow motion and going far too fast for me to process. We arrive at my parents’ house, the tall, black gate closed in front of us. Leo holds a gun to my head threateningly, showing the guard at the gate who I am. The gate opens instantly. I don't feel scared with the barrel of a gunpressed to my temple. Not this time. This time I know Leo would never hurt me.

The bomb on the other hand, that scares me to my core. One small movement from Peadar, and I die. My only solace is the fact that I would take Peadar with me. I have never wished death on someone, but at this moment, I do. I wish Peadar would die.

The next moment, I am being pulled from the van by Leo, who still holds a gun to my head. The guards at the front let us in, keeping their hands held up at Peadar’s command.

They ask for directions to the study, and I answer. I don't know how. I didn’t tell my brain to speak, but I’m still on autopilot, my brain and body functioning without commands. We walk through the study door. My father chose this particular room because it has a view of the ocean.

My father looks surprised when we walk in, his brown eyes widening as he holds a bottle of brandy. Recognition dawns on him when he sees me, his brows briefly creasing in confusion. He then looks at the men I am accompanied by, and for some reason, he doesn't look surprised one bit.

He looks tired, the skin on his jaw sagging with time and stress. I haven't seen my father in a few years, but he has aged a decade in that time. He doesn’t lift his hands, even though Peadar has a gun pointed at him. He doesn’t look at all affected.

“Dad,” I say, but another name, coated in a familiar, deep, gravelly voice, harmonizes with mine. I freeze at the familiar name, looking at the man who uttered it. It’s Leo. Leo is staring at my dad, his mouth open in shock. He has to be wrong, though. This is my dad, Giuseppe Santos. Not… not…

“Altieri.” Leo says again, and the name punches me in the face.

thirty-three

“Kill me?”- Leo

“Altieri,”Irepeat.Ididn’t even mean to say it the first time, but the shock in my brain has me repeating it.

Altieri stands right in front of me, and Callisto called him ‘dad’. My brain cannot process this right now. Altieri is Callisto’s father? What? How? How did Callisto not know this? How did I not know this?

I never thought to look up pictures of Giuseppe Santos. I never would have put the pieces together. Evan and Fletcher probably wouldn’t even know what Altieri looks like. He stays hidden, running his empire from the shadows.

“Wait outside. Guard the door. It doesn’t matter what you hear, do not open the door unless you hear my command,” Peadar orders, looking at the rest of his men.

I stay rooted to the spot, my gun still trained on Callisto’s temple. Callisto. Fuck. He must be so confused. I chance a glance at him, and what I find breaks my heart. Callisto looks at me, his green eyes pleading. He probably thinks that I knew all along. That I had been keeping this information from him, but I didn’t.

It all makes sense now. Why De Luca worked for Giuseppe Santos. Why no one in our organization knew what Altieri looked like. Why Peadar sent us to Callisto’s house in the first place.Did he have this planned all along? Did he want us to kidnap Callisto?

“How did you get your hands on my son?” Altieri asks, looking at Callisto then back to Peadar. Callisto isn’t paying him any attention though, eyes still on me.

I swallow, attempting to pretend I’m fine, that the look on Callisto’s face isn’t slowly eating me alive from the inside out. Betrayal stains his beautiful features. Callisto feels betrayed by his own father, and I can relate so much to that. I want to grab Callisto and hold him, tell him it’s okay. That his father’s actions in no way reflect the world we live in. I can’t, though. I have to play the part.

“Leo here will blow his brains out on my command, then I have a bomb vest strapped to him for extra security. One wrong move, and he’s dead. I don’t care if I take all of us with him.” Peadar ignores his question, holding up the detonation device and wiggling it, as if to taunt Altieri.

The shock recedes, and the breath dies in my throat. The live bomb strapped to Callisto’s chest is still ticking. Recalling the exact way, they buckled the harness onto him, my hands twitch; the release mechanism isn't complex. It can come off. It is secured with a simple lock, but the only issue is the fact that Peadar has the key. It’s in the breast pocket of his jacket.

I wish I could have done more to help comfort Callisto during all of this, but I couldn’t. Not without giving away my feelings, which Peadar has probably already figured out. No. I had to pretend that strapping that bomb to Callisto didn’t make me physically ill. I had to pretend I didn’t have tears in my eyes because of how terrified Callisto looked at that moment. I am great at pretending, but my heart is shattered.

“What do you want?” Altieri asks, his eyes dark and angry, his mouth drawn into a thin line. Callisto resembles him a little, but not enough for me to have noticed that he’s his son.

“I want your sex trafficking operation,” Peadar responds, his voice low and even. My head snaps to Peadar at his words, but he’s ignoring me, his black eyes trained on Altieri with a Grinch-like smirk on his face.

No. Peadar doesn't want that operation. He wouldn’t want to get into something as disgusting as sex trafficking. I don’t want to believe it, but the admission came straight from Peadar’s mouth. Any amount of respect I had left for Peadar has disappeared.

“You will have to kill me before I give you the business that brings in the most money.” Altieri finally pours some of the brandy he’s still holding into a glass. He sits the bottle down on the table, taking a sip as if they are discussing a simple business deal, like buying a company or the introduction of new merchandise, not fucking sex trafficking.

The whole thing is so nonchalant, and it’s horrifying. It’s normal to them. It’s a business deal. They don’t care about the people’s lives it destroys. All they see are dollar signs. I want to scream and punch something. The person I looked up to as a hero became a villain in my own story.