Page 70 of Taken By the Mafia King
I held my breath.
“It was him, Sera. He did it. Your father.”
I raised an eyebrow, not understanding, and let my hands fall into my lap. “What are you talking about? He did what?”
Killian took my hands in his and looked into my eyes. “Your father sold you to the Marinos to cover a debt he acquired by buying some woman from a previous auction. He couldn’t comeup with the funds he promised for her purchase, so he sold you to pay it off. You were abducted by your father’s men, Sera.”
I couldn’t breathe. Tears stung my eyes as I gaped at him in disbelief.
He continued. “I had my suspicions from the beginning about how you ended up in this situation. Fred looked into it, talked to your father, and he recently confirmed what I assumed was the truth. Your father did this. He isnotcoming for you.”
The ringing in my ears abruptly stopped.
He gave my hands a squeeze. “I’m sorry.”
Sorry?That word had never sounded so flat before.
I grappled with what he’d just told me, my mind rushing back to that moment in the school parking lot when the men in the van closed in on me. The fear I’d felt, the panic, the darkness under the hood.
The room fell silent as my mind went over my worst fear coming true. Not only was I trapped here forever, but the one man I’d trusted more than any other had completely betrayed me.
“No one is coming for me,” I whispered, more to myself than to him.
“Not anyone you’d want to take you.” His reply was quiet but sharp.
How could my father have done this to me? We had our issues, sure, but even after I fled and he perceived my leaving the family as a betrayal, I never expected him to do something like that. He didn’t care what happened to me. For all he knew, I was suffering unspeakable things courtesy of the Hand of Death.
“Sera, I know you’re upset, but I do have something for you.” Killian’s voice was closer, but I still didn’t open my eyes.
He turned my hands over in his and slowly opened my clenched fist. Something warm and smooth touched my palm,and round beads rattled softly. He closed my hand then rose and stepped away from me.
I looked down, and a glimpse into my fist sent shock rippling through me.
I closed my fingers around it—something I’d been missing since the night my world came crashing down around me.
My rosary.
My mother’s rosary.
CHAPTER 51
SERA
My world had shattered. Any hope of seeing the light of day again slipped through my fingers and turned to ash at my feet. Looking into Killian’s eyes, the lack of sympathy behind them sparked something in me, but it wasn’t warmth. It wasn’t that strange, misplaced longing of him I’d been fighting either.
Anger. Wrath. Desperation. That was all that was left of the innocent girl I used to be—someone I would never be again. Going back to my old life was no longer an option. I would never see my students again. I would never walk the halls of my school or sit at the corner deli eating pastrami sandwiches with Emma. I would never be free. Not from Killian. Not from this world or this life, if I could even call it that.
My father had been right about one thing. Anyone who is born into this life will die in it. Nothing exists outside of the confines of the family for those unlucky enough to be born within its reaching, gnarled branches.
I might as well already be dead. But then, being dead would solve a lot of my problems, so death might not be such a bad thing after all. Perhaps the longing I felt within me was actually a yearning for the sweet release of eternal slumber.
Unable to bear Killian’s indifference, I turned on my heel and fled his office, my bare feet slapping on the tile as I darted for the front door. My name echoed down the corridor behind me, but the wild craving within me to get away prevented me from turning my head. Desperation to escape flooded all of my other senses.
The front door easily opened with a swift push. Once again, it had been left unlocked, as if testing my resolve to be free. With no guards in sight, I broke out into the fresh air.
Ignoring the cold that bit into my feet as I ran down the front steps and onto the driveway, I sped toward the front gates beckoning to me in the distance in all their wrought-iron glory. Covered in vines now yellowed with the late autumn season, they became my first goal. Beyond them, roughly a quarter mile down a tree-lined stretch of empty road, stood a security booth.
Reaching the gate, I threw myself against the barrier, clutching the bars and letting out a screech that originated in my soul. Armed men stepped out of the booth, eyes wide as they tried to assess the situation.
