29. Lucia

29

LUCIA

Forcing my eyes open, I glance around the tiny room where I'm being held. There's no light except for the sliver that creeps in under the gap in the door, but it's enough for me to realize that there's nothing here except for the chair I'm sitting on.

Fucking great.

As I pull against the restraints that bind me to the chair, I try not to imagine the life I thought I was going to have with Mikhail.

With each minute that passes, I know it's slipping further and further out of reach and my heart breaks a little more.

I always knew it would be risky to let down my guard enough to experience the sort of pleasure that I have come to crave with Mikhail. And not just the kind in the bedroom, but from the simple things such as the way he tucks my hair behind my ear or the slight twitch of his lips as he tries not to laugh at whatever inappropriate comment I've made.

Perhaps I should be thankful for the throbbing pain in my head. It's providing a welcome distraction from the gut-wrenching pain in my chest at the thought of never seeing Mikhail again, never wrapping myself in his arms as we fall asleep…

I'm not sure if the ringing in my ears is from my screams or from the aftermath of the blow I took to the head that knocked me out. Either way, it won't stop, and my throat feels dry and raw.

But none of this is new territory. I would think having been kidnapped before that I would have learned a thing or two, but it turns out I'm just as fucking clueless as I was at fifteen. The only difference is that this time I have so much more to lose.

I've been broken before and managed to stitch myself back together piece by piece until I was a close enough image of my original self, and I'm grateful for the invisible scars. They remind me to always be on my guard.

But then I met Mikhail, and everything changed.

I knew that if I had him by my side, then I would never have to experience pain like that again because he had me. So, I lowered my guard and let myself imagine a life with him.

I started to believe that I could have my happily ever after because of him.

How wrong I was.

A strangled sound spills from my lips as I look up and spot a small window, my only link to the outside world. The sky is dark, but I have no idea whether only hours have passed or days. I've been here before, and I know all too well how time likes to slow down when you're staring death in the face.

And my death is wearing the face of Alfonzo Morano, who's coming to finish what he started.

I remember seeing the snake tattoo on his neck as he bound me to the chair.

His stale breath on my cheek as he told me how I would be long dead before anyone even realized I was missing.

It comes to me in flashes, my mind barely registering the difference between a memory and a dream.

The pregnancy test.

The shattered windows.

The blood.

I think of the two pink lines and the baby that is probably barely the size of a fingernail growing inside me. Of Mikhail, and the fact that he's going to eventually find that test long after I'm dead.

"Oh god," I sob as bile burns my throat. " Mikhail ."

I slam my mouth shut at the sound of footsteps approaching.

This is it.

This is my end.

I send out one last silent prayer to Mikhail, hoping that he's only seconds away from storming the place because I'm not sure how much fight I have left in me.

The sound of metal scraping against metal fills my ears and then the door is swinging open, revealing the silhouette of a man. One minute, he's nothing but shadow and the next, he flicks a switch, and the room floods with light.

I blink once, twice, as I realize the man standing in the doorway is not Alfonzo Morano.

"Igor," I breathe.

"Hello, Lucia."

I bristle at the way he purrs my name.

I've seen enough pictures of the man to know he's fucking terrifying, from the towering frame and shaved head down to the half-chewed off lobe on his right ear. His dress shirt and pants cling to his heavily muscled body, though the weathered lines on his face give his age away. My body silently screams at me to run, but I'm bound so tight that there's no chance of me leaving this room except for in a body bag.

"Where are my manners?" Igor's tongue darts out to wet his lower lip. "I should apologize for ruining your wedding. Tell me, Lucia, how's your father?"

If I didn't know what this man was capable of, I might have believed his sympathy. But Igor Ivanov doesn't have a sympathetic bone in his body.

"Dead for all I know."

"I wish. But, no. It turns out your father is hard to kill." Igor chuckles, the sound making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. "Even with multiple bullets in his chest, he still clings to life."

"He has a lot to live for. Unlike you, you heartless fucking prick."

Igor's gray eyes narrow as he moves to crouch in front of me, the muscles of his shoulders straining against his navy shirt.

"I would have preferred him to have a swift death." Igor shrugs. "If only to prevent you from suffering so much."

"My suffering clearly doesn't seem to bother you." I pull against my restraints.

Igor laughs, bracing his hands on his thighs as he looks up at me.

"I'd be curious to see how you would fare taking over from your father. You have guts, I'll give you that. If I wasn't in such a hurry to take out the Koslovs, I'd have liked to have given you a few years at the top just to see what you could achieve."

I keep my mouth shut about my brother back in Italy. I have no doubt that Igor is aware of Federico's movements, but I refuse to remind him of the rightful heir to my father's empire.

If my father survives, I don't want him waking up to the news that both of his children have been murdered.

But it seems Igor doesn't appreciate my silence from the way he pulls his hand back and slaps it across my cheek.

I hiss at the sting, though the pain is welcome.

It means I'm not dead.

Yet .

"I just gave you the highest compliment, ungrateful bitch."

"You want a fucking thank you card?"

"I'd watch your tone, girl."

"Or what? You gonna tie me to a chair? Oh wait, you already did that."

"I could tie you to something much more fun."

He must see the color drain from my face as a cruel smile tugs at his lips.

"So, I suggest you keep the snide remarks to a minimum."

"Why? We both know you're going to kill me anyway."

"Not until Mikhail arrives. I want him to see the light drain from your eyes." Igor gets to his feet. "So, how much you suffer is on him. I guess we'll see how much he really cares about you."

"Mikhail will kill you."

Igor laughs. "You truly believe that?"

"Yes."

"Whatever keeps your spirits up, sweetheart. It's no fun torturing someone who's already given up."

"I wouldn't know."

Igor laughs again .

"Oh, we'll have some fun, you and me."

"What are you trying to achieve here? I've done nothing to you."

"Oh, believe me, darling, you have." His expression turns cold, but I refuse to back down.

"Whatever twisted game you're playing with my father, it's time you called it off. The Koslovs are my family now, and they don't take lightly to having one of their own being kidnapped and tortured. They will come for you."

"Why do you think I took you?" Igor tucks his hands into his pockets as he leans against the doorframe. "I want the entire Koslov bratva to show up on my fucking doorstep so I can personally put a bullet between the eyes of each one of them as payback for what their father did to me."

An image flashes in my mind of Mikhail lying in my arms as blood pours from his wounds, his dark eyes slowly losing that slight sparkle they get when he's amused.

"T-they never knew until recently. They weren't the ones who hurt you?—"

"I don't give a fuck !" Igor pushes off the doorway and stalks toward me.

I hold my breath as he bends down, his face barely an inch from mine.

There's nothing but cold-blooded rage in his eyes, and I have no doubt that he won't stop until he's claimed the lives of Mikhail's entire family.

My thoughts turn to Bianca and Zara, to Leo and the twins, and I choke back a sob.

It turns out I'm not above begging. It might be too late for me, but I'll be damned if I let this monster anywhere near them.

" Please . T-they have kids. "

"I don't give a fuck, sweetheart. If anything, it only makes their deaths even sweeter."

"Those kids will grow up, and they'll fucking come after you!" I pull against my restraints, the rope rubbing my skin raw.

"See, that's where you're wrong. It seems you're failing to understand here, sweetheart, so let me spell it out for you. Once I've finished taking out Alexei and his band of merry fucking men, I'm turning my attention to the rest of his fucking bloodline. I have no qualms with putting a bullet in the skull of a child, believe me."

My urge to vomit intensifies.

"You're a monster," I whisper.

"I'm no more of a monster than your precious Mikhail. You'd do well not to forget who he truly is, Lucia?—"

A phone rings.

My breath hitches, wondering if it's one of his men calling to inform him of Mikhail's arrival.

Igor keeps his eyes locked on mine as he reaches into the pockets of his pants and pulls his phone out.

I do my best to keep my face neutral as my pulse quickens in my neck, but as I watch the color slowly drain from Igor's face, the last of my hope vanishes.

Without another word to me, Igor turns his back and stalks from the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

At least he left the light on.

I glance over at the tiny window and a hysterical laugh escapes me.

Even if I could get free of my restraints, there's no way in hell I could squeeze through such a small gap.

I guess that's why he put me in here.

My only hope is Mikhail, and that thought has another laugh escaping my lips .

If past me could have looked into the future and seen me now, tied to a chair and begging for my life and the lives of those I love, she would have thought me a lovesick fool to land myself in such a position after what I had gone through when I was fifteen.

But I have no regrets.

I'd rather die having loved Mikhail than never having loved him at all.