Page 40 of Destruction

Allesandro huffs and shifts on the floor before standing—the whole sitting on the floor thing got old days ago. “My Boys will rally around me and not let me out of their sights.” He scoffs. “As if I can’t take care of myself.” I give him a look and he grins. “Present situation excluded, of course. Though…there’s obviously a traitor in our midst. I don’t believe this asshole just got lucky. I wonder how long Emilio left them alive…”

I laugh. “They were dead the second he got what he needed from them. If it were Ten, I’d be fifty-fifty on if they were still alive or not. The fucker likes to play with his food. Your Emilio, though? I highly doubt anyone would be able to stop him from killing whoever gets in his way; Ten might try, and I’d pay money to see that.”

“Your Second against mine? We could sell tickets to that.”

“Something to add to our‘when we get out of here’list,” I muse.

Tripping over the chain attached to my manacle, I sneer at it before toeing the chain, wanting to kick it in frustration, but I can’t since I’m fuckingattachedto it.

“I’m going to choke you with this chain,” I snarl at the camera. “But I won’t kill you with it. No, your death is going to be a slow, painful one.”

No response comes, of course, and I shake my head in disgust, returning to my pacing. As I do so, I begin humming.

“Anything but fucking Christmas,” Allesandro begs. “I’ll even take Taylor Swift again.”

“You’ve met my family,” I reply. “It’s either Christmas or whatever nonsense Roman is obsessing over, so my repertoire of songs is very limited.”

Before he can respond, the door to our cell opens and three men come in. They head directly for me, and though I try to fight them off, being chained to the wall, as well as exhausted and sore from sitting on the fucking floor, I’m not at my best.

I get a few hits in, but one of them shoves me face first against the wall, making my head ache as it comes into contact with the wall. My face scrapes against the cement, and I hiss at the sting.

My arms are restrained behind my back, and though I can hear Allesandro fighting and protesting behind me, the two people that are on me manage to unhook my chain from the wall and begin dragging me out of the room.

At least things are starting to get interesting…

Fuck!My heart pounds as the three men enter the room, rushing at Cristian. I don’t have much of a chance to protest as one of them splits off, heading towards me, another man joining in the fray soon after.

Where the fuck did he come from?

Growling, I throw punches, and given the grunts of pain, I clearly manage to land some.

I hear Cristian shout as he’s dragged out of the room, and it’s enough of a distraction that I lose any advantage.Shit. Ignacio would kick my ass for that.

My arms are locked behind me, and they click the cuffs on, unlocking the manacle. With an evil grin, I kick out, clipping the goon in the chin. He goes sprawling, and I laugh at the blood on his face.

Suddenly, I feel a sharp jab in my neck, and I curse because I know exactly what that means. I hate being fucking drugged. Fuckers are going to pay for this shit…

I try to concentrate on what’s going on around me, but it’s impossible as I’m dragged down into the fake slumber. It envelops me like an old demon, and I can only hope it’s one that doesn’t leave a damn hangover.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Groaning, I wake to the sound of fucking dripping. A faucet that doesn’t seem to completely shut off. It pisses me the fuck off. If we’re going to be kidnapped, is it too much to ask that our kidnapper actually possess the means to do it correctly?

My head throbs from the damn medication, and the dripping. At least it’s not Christmas music. Cristian was driving me nuts with that. I doubt Tennant is the only psychopath the Amatos have. After all, who the fuck would listen to Christmas music all year round? Only someone who is completely broken and fucked up would do that.

I’m sitting in a chair with my hands locked down on a table. I try to move my hands, but the metal is unforgiving, and whoever did it made sure I couldn’t slip them through the restraints.

The door bangs open and I glance toward the man entering. He’s…unimpressive. I’d walk past him and wouldn’t give his looks a second thought.

He's got mousy brown hair, but the haircut is too shaggy to be called stylish, and his eyes a dull brown that matches his hair. His facial features aren’t ugly, but there’s nothing compelling about them. Even his body type is just…regular. He’s not thin, he’s not overweight. I almost want to roll my eyes at thenormality of this man. And yet, he dared take Cristian and me captive? No wonder he needed help from his goons.

“Enjoying your time here?” The man smirks, and I struggle not to roll my eyes.

“The accommodations could be better, but I must say, it’s nice to have a break from my day-to-day chaos.” I shrug one shoulder, pretending to be unaffected, even if I’m mentally calculating how I’d kill him. It won’t be quick or easy.

He flushes at my statement and tosses a newspaper at me. I quirk an eyebrow at him, deliberately staring at one manacle then the other. Huffing, he situates the newspaper in front of me, so that I can see it more clearly. “You’ve made the headlines. Aren’t you proud?”

I ignore his mocking words and glance down.Criminal Families Under Investigation. Well, fuck. That doesn’t sound good. I skim what I can see of the article, wanting to grimace when I learn about the raids, but refusing to give him the satisfaction.

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