Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 71003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
This is where they kept her? On a soiled mattress, in a cold and bare room. My Dove.
She doesn’t belong in a place like this. She should be safe and happy. Scanning the room one last time, I note that there is no blood, and no clothing tossed aside, other than the jacket. Both are good signs, and I’m going to hold on to them. They don’t prove that they didn’t hurt her, but all I can do is hope that they didn’t and that she’s not completely broken when I get her back.
Fisting the material in my hand, I bring it to my nose and inhale deeply. The faint smell of vanilla tickles my nose, and I suck that precious scent deep into my lungs. She’s a drug to my senses, to my mind, and body.
My sweet Dove.
At least I know one thing. Her not being here means that, at the very least, she is still alive. The question now, is how do I get her back from Xander Rossi, one of the most feared mafia men in the United States?
4
Ivan is quiet as he drives us to god knows where. I’m sandwiched in the back seat between the two guys that found me in my cell. I’m afraid to move, breathe, and damn well, too scared to talk. I do my best not to think about what’s going to happen next. Surely, if that Ivan man was going to kill me, he would’ve done it back in that cell, right?
Of course, there are worse things than death…
A million and one scenarios play out in my mind. The car jerks to a stop, and I blink out of my thoughts, realizing we’ve arrived wherever it is that we were going. Peering out the windshield, I see a massive compound ahead. There’s a ten-foot iron fence that cages the place in. It all but says no visitors welcome.
Two guards usher us in, and Ivan drives up the long driveway, past guard towers, and some smaller buildings. I guess escaping is out of the question.
In the center of the place is a giant house, or mansion even. It looks fancy. When we get closer, I see that there is yet another fence surrounding it. The lawn is manicured, and it doesn’t seem like even a single blade is out of place. The gate in front of us is manned by four men, and I shiver, wondering where the hell it is they’ve brought me. Prison, but nicer?
It looks nice but kind of deadly too. We drive through the gate that leads to the mansion and down the road until we make it to a plain-looking building. I’m shaking, and there is a sheen of sweat on my forehead. Ivan shifts the car into park and kills the engine.
Ivan steps out of the car, and both men open their doors. One of the men wraps his hand around my wrist and pulls me out of the SUV. Shocked, I let out a gasp and tug my arm from his hand. I’m so tired of people grabbing me. Tired of being tossed around like a ragdoll.
“Don’t touch the girl,” Ivan orders, with a look so deadly, it makes my heart quake in my chest.
“It’s not like I hurt her.” The unknown guy shrugs his shoulders.
Ivan ignores him completely and starts walking away. My feet scrape against the concrete as I scurry behind him. I don’t want to be stuck out here with these guys by myself.
“I’m glad you decided not to run,” Ivan says and I almost roll my eyes. Where am I going to run to? He walks me to the large metal door. It looks like it weighs a ton, but of course, a man of his size opens it like it’s a soda can. With the door open, he motions for me to go inside.
I’m not sure if I’m walking myself to my own execution or to a chat with an old friend. Either way, I’m not letting him see how scared I am. Forcing my arms to casually hang by my side, instead of wrapping them around my torso like I want to, like I need to, I walk into the building.
“That way,” Ivan says and points down the hallway. The walls are bare, and everything from floor to ceiling is a light gray color. My shoes squeak against the floor as we walk. He leads me to a room that doesn’t look any different than the hall, except that it holds a table and a few chairs in the center.
“Where are we?” I ask as I step into the room, gazing over my shoulder hesitantly.
“Sit,” he orders, ignoring my question. “I have my guys checking on the story you told me right now, but in the meantime, I’d like to hear the whole thing again from you, and I’d like to ask you some questions. For instance, why were you at Christian’s compound, and how long were you there?”