Page 82 of Inferno

I type those two words on the screen, and it feels right. Visions of our night together replay on a loop.

It’s like I can still feel his touch all over my body.

I picture him kissing my scars. Telling me it’s going to be okay. I rest my head in my hands and let the tears fall.

No matter how many times I get knocked down, I get back up.

But each day it’s getting harder and harder to do.

I need an escape, and I need it soon. I’ll speak to Drago. Perhaps this last mysterious job is my way out. This will not be how my story ends.

As I picture Jimmy’s piercing blue eyes staring into my soul, I smile.

I look at the screen through my tears and run my hands over the keyboard.

I can’t rewrite my history, but I can decide my future.

Fiction or not, I have to believe one day, our souls will be brought back together and I can reign hell on this house.

As I start to type, the words flow so freely as I describe the Italian hotel. I don’t know how much time passes. The world doesn’t exist currently outside my laptop.

In this world, I am a badass martial arts instructor, away for a competition. My only care in the world is winning my fight. That’s how I dreamed my life would turn out.

A knock at the door throws me back into reality. I take a deep breath and slam the laptop shut. Drago knows what happened and who Isabella’s father really is. He doesn’t need the full details.

“Come in,” I tell him.

Without a word, he steps through the door, his worn sweats and faded black t-shirt hanging loosely on his frame, the shadows under his eyes deepening my worry.

“You good, Drago?” I ask as he silently hands me a stack of paperwork.

I know he’s been tied up helping Tatiana recover from her head injury. Not many people survive a bullet in the skull, but she did. That’s all I know and all he will tell me.

“Look, before you read this, just remember your end goal.” He scratches at his stubble, and I snatch the paper from his hands.

I frown, reading the bold title in a fancy-ass font.

You are invited to participate in the Decadence Games.

Please ensure you read the rules and contract carefully.

One must step into hell to get a taste of heaven.

Upon signing, you shall become property of Decadence.

We look forward to welcoming you soon

“Drago. What in the fuck is the Decadence games? Property? Games? What?” I can’t take my eyes off the words.

I can’t be reading this properly.

I’m seeing BDSM, pain, and pleasure. Lists of things I’ve never even heard of.

I blink at the last page.

Death.

“Drago, I suggest you tell me what this job really is other than some fucked-up sex game.”

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