Page 31 of Inside the Sun

Fuck!

Despite my best efforts, I can’t get it off me. So I sit down, glancing around for something I can use as a tool.

But the second I move, a wave of pain hits my ribs. Are they broken? Just bruised? I have no idea. I try to take a deeper breath, and thank God, it doesn’t hurt. So maybe it’s just bruising.

Slowly, I glance to the right and down. My hip hurts too. I pull my pants down a little and see a red-purple bruise blooming on my hipbone.

"Bastards," I mutter under my breath.

I slide off the bed and stand up, feeling the room spin slightly.

First thing I do is walk over to the window… and I freeze. Because what I see stuns the hell out of me.

This has to be inside The Sun Fortress.

The window overlooks a massive circular courtyard. But it’s not just a small atrium like in some Roman villa. No. It’s a real, full-scale, carefully maintained garden, surrounded on all sides by the fortress walls. Lines of windows overlook it.

Someone built this place in the shape of a circle-slash-octagon. And right in the middle, they designed a perfectly groomed, enclosed garden. My eyes quickly land on a tall man using a handheld trimmer, cutting the grass at the edge of one of the walkways.

My first instinct is to open the window, but I immediately realize it doesn’t even have a handle. It’s the kind of sealed corporate window you can’t open. The AC hums softly in the background. So I can’t even yell to the gardener for help.

"Fuck," I groan, slapping the glass. I beat my fists against it, but the window’s thick and solid. I’d need something heavy to break it, and if I did, the noise would definitely draw attention. The wrong kind. And where would I even escape to? The inner courtyard seems completely closed off.

Anyway, my pounding doesn't get the gardener’s attention. He’s wearing soundproof earmuffs to block the trimmer’s engine noise, but someone else does notice.

The door opens, and an older beta steps inside, holding a tray.

I rush toward him, but after just two steps, I spot another guy standing in the doorway. I recognize him. He’s one of the thugs who dragged me into the car back in the parking lot.

The beta sets the tray down on a small table by the wall. His expression is calm, indifferent, like nothing’s weird about this situation. Like he isn’t just serving water and a sandwich to a kidnapped eighteen-year-old.

I freeze, torn between saying something or staying silent. But I already know, whatever I say, this beta won’t answer. That’s one. And two, he’s not going to help me get out of here. His body language is way too neutral. He’s not getting involved in something that could cost him his life.

So I turn my eyes to the guy at the door. In my head, I’ve already labeled him the guard, though more likely, he’s just one of Anzo’ssoldati.

"How long do you plan to keep me here? I want to talk to Anzo!"

Silence. Complete fucking silence.

The older beta walks out. The door shuts behind him. I leap for it and yank the handle. Nothing, of course. I hear footsteps fading, and I’m alone again.

I go back to the window, cursing under my breath, caught between rage and despair. No way around it. I’ve been kidnapped. Kidnapped! Like in a movie. What the hell kind of nightmare is this?

The gardener keeps trimming the grass at the edges of the paths.

I decide to wait until he’s done mowing. Maybe then I’ll try knocking on the glass again. But the more I think about it, the more I realize how pointless that is. He probably works for Ferro, just like the beta who brought me the tray. He wouldn’t care about someone yelling for help. Maybe he’s heard it before and did nothing. I mean, who wants to piss off a capo?

Nobody. Except apparently me.

What do I do now? My brain’s running at full throttle.

Wait, my phone. Of course!

I instantly check every pocket I’ve got, but yeah. It’s gone.

My own stupidity shocks me. I’m not dealing with some amateur. He knows exactly how this works.

After all, his first husband disappeared. Maybe he pissed off Anzo by banging on the glass and yelling for gardeners to help?

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