60. Zola

Chapter 60

Zola

I was taken to a high-end townhouse in Greenwich Village. I had expected them to take me out of state and to a place I would probably never be found, instead, they had returned me to the city.

The door was pulled open by an unsmiling woman. I was led in, wet and shivering and filthy as hell.

The woman glanced at me with a disgusted look. I didn’t need a mirror to know I looked very akin to something from a horror show. I could feel it with every fiber of my being. She communicated with the three men in rapid-fire Italian and they responded rudely and angrily. Shaking her head she walked away without a backwards glance.

The men followed her and I was left standing there alone, a bloodied, broken mess. My heart was beating fast in my chest. I turned to look at the front door. It was unlocked. It could be the only opportunity I got to escape.

“I wouldn’t bother,” a man’s voice said sarcastically.

I whirled around and saw two men walking towards me. I instantly recognized one of them as my father’s killer, Ugo. God, how I hated him. He looked older than the photos the media were using and more sinister. His eyes were black and dead and his cold gaze settled on me as he approached. The other man stayed back and watched me expressionlessly.

“Please follow me,” Ugo instructed and began walking further into the house.

I took one look at the nasty face and the folded arms of the other man and followed Ugo. The door shut behind us as the other man exited and left me alone with my enemy. He smiled suddenly, and to my astonishment began to behave in the way a well-to-do uncle welcoming his niece whom he’d not seen for some time would, rather than a mobster handling someone he had kidnapped.

“What a pleasure. It has been too long, Zola, my dear,” he murmured affectionately.

I felt as if I was dreaming. Was this the feared man who killed my father? I nudged my tied arms toward him. “Can someone take these off, please? I’m in pain.”

He studied my appearance and something like compassion showed in his face. “Yes, I imagine you must be, but I’m afraid, for now, I think it's best that we keep them on. So there are no surprises, you do understand, don’t you?” He paused and smiled again, but it never reached his dead eyes.

“I promise, I won’t cause any trouble,” I said.

“Are you and Dante lovers?”

His question shocked me, but I tried not to show it. “Are you really expecting me to answer questions when I’m in this state?”

“Hmm,” he said. “You're right. How inhospitable of me.” He pressed a button on his intercom. “Francesca, could you please take care of Zola here, she’s had a very hard day. Ensure she has a bath and some food. And get Doctor Falconi to give her a quick check.”

Almost immediately the woman who had scolded the men earlier came in.

“Come with me,” she said coldly and left the room. As soon as we were out of the room, she grabbed my arm and pulled me roughly through a corridor and down a set of stairs.

If I had harbored any thoughts that I was going to be treated well from now on, her surprisingly strong and rough hands showed me how mistaken I was. I was sure Ugo heard my struggling and fighting against being mistreated, but it was probably exactly what he wanted her to do.

I was unceremoniously thrown into a tiny bedroom and the door locked behind me. It was a plain room with a narrow wooden bed with a thin mattress on it, a metal toilet and a small sink. And that was it. I was too exhausted to make it to the bed so I just lay where I had fallen.

A little while later the door was pushed open and a burly man with a massive chest and large biceps in his late forties or fifties appeared. When he stepped aside, I saw another man with a stethoscope hanging around his neck behind him. Obviously, the doctor Ugo had spoken of.

The burly man led the doctor forward, then pulled a gun out.

"He's gonna check you," he said, gesturing toward the doctor. “Any sudden movements and I'll blow your head off."

I watched as the doctor knelt down beside me and set his kit down before him. I couldn't understand why they would tend to my injuries, but they were ready to blow my head off if I made a 'wrong move.' It all seemed so ludicrous.

"You’re all scared, aren't you?" I asked.

Neither man responded to my taunt.

"You don't really dare to hurt me because of Dante. Kidnapping me is just to force his hand ... to make him do whatever you want …"

The doctor checked the injuries on the back of my head, which hurt like crazy, and then he got to his feet.

"She'll need her wound cleaned and several stitches.”

“Well, get to work then,” the man said.

The doctor looked me in the eye for the first time. I could see that he was frightened and would have preferred not to be there. "Can you make it to the bed?”

My entire body was killing me, especially my head, and I wasn’t stupid enough to not want relief. I had to find a way to survive this. I stood and stumbled towards the bed.

The doctor inspected my head and cleaned the wound, which caused me to wince. He got up and turned to the burly man. "I need a razor. I need to shave a part of her hair off."

“If you go and ask Francesca, she’ll give it to you,” the burly man said.

The doctor nodded and walked out. Something about the burly guy was incredibly intimidating.

"Have you worked with Ugo long?" I asked, and just as I expected, he didn't answer. Instead, he seemed to be listening to the doctor’s footsteps.

"Why do you do this job? Is it because of the money? Is the money irresistible?"

He turned to stare at the door. "You sure do talk a lot.”

“That’s because I’m nervous. Hey, what are you doing?” I asked in a panic because he was advancing on me.

I tried to sit up to face him, but the pain immediately stopped me. I cried out at the pain coming from everywhere, but he did not strike me. Instead, he did something that shocked me. He pulled out a phone from his pocket and handed it over to me. I looked at the black thing as though it was a trap and then stared back up at him.

"You have twenty seconds," he muttered.

“What?” I exclaimed. Was he allowing me to call Dante? The fact I would be able to talk to Dante in any shape or form seemed way too good to be true.

"Fifteen seconds," he said, and there was no more time to waste.

I grabbed the phone from him and began dialing Dante's number. I kept my gaze on the burly man who had turned to stare at the door. I could hardly believe this was actually happening. Then Dante's voice came into my ear.

"Hello?"

Tears rushed into my eyes and I opened my mouth to speak, but no words would come out.

"Are you alright?" Dante asked urgently.

A sobbing sound came out of my mouth.

"Please give the phone to Tommy, sweetheart."

I handed the phone over. The man looked at it, then at me with such disdain that I suspected he would have preferred to shoot me. He walked away toward the door without a word.

"Ten seconds," he said.

I returned the phone to my ear.

“Where are you?” Dante asked.

"We're in the city. It looks like Greenwich. There are townhouses all over ... cobblestone streets. Um ..."

"What else?"

"I don’t …" I tried to think but a headache surged like a demon, perhaps fueled by my panic, and I could no longer think."

"That’s it. Toss me the phone," Tommy said.

"Dante ... I'm-"

"I'll find you," he said. "I promise. I swear."

"I'm sorry. I’m so sorry," I whispered.

“Don’t be. Stay strong,” he said quietly.

My heart swelled with emotion, but before I could say another word, I heard a growl from across the room.

"Pass the fucking phone or we’re both dead.”

I didn't need to be warned again. I tossed the phone to him, and he caught it. Then he paused for a second and put it to his ear.

"We’re even now.” Then he ended the call and I heard the doctor’s footsteps in the corridor.