Page 170 of Broken Mafia Prince
“Think, Giulia. Think.”
I close my eyes, exhaling. Is Raffaele in trouble, too? Is that why he didn’t show up to the location? If he is, then I can’t depend on him to save me right now. I have to get out of this myself.
I recall reading about the recommended course of action in a situation like this. The article mentioned that removing the taillights is a common practice because people and authorities are more likely to inspect a car with missing taillights. I try to move my legs, but I’ve been bound up so tightly that there’s barely any circulation in my ankles. The simple yet sophisticated white satin dress Isa insisted I wear feels like it’s working against me.
Damn it.
“Let me out of here, you bastard!” I scream, pounding my fist against the ceiling.
“Shut up, or I’ll shut you up myself,” the man snaps. “My employer, as you so eloquently put it, didn’t give me any instructions about bringing you in peak condition. Know what that means, princess?”
I still. “Go to hell.”
His only response is a booming laugh.
My heart rises to my throat, choking me, when I feel the car come to a stop. Is this it? Am I going to die now? I try to shift around in the limited space, and that’s when I remember Isa rolling her eyes at me when I strapped the dagger to my garter.
A shaky chuckle slips out of my mouth as I inch up my dress until my hand is wrapped around the ivory handle of the dagger. It’s the only birthday gift I’ve ever gotten from my father that I didn’t immediately toss or drive off the nearest cliff.
“What do you have in the back there?” I hear a stern voice ask.
My eyes widen as it hits me that we must be at a police checkpoint.
“Help me! Help me, I’ve been kidnapped!” I scream. “You have to help me, please! He’s a psychopath and he’s going to kill me!” A sob tears out of my throat.
There’s silence for a long moment, and then I hear footsteps heading toward the back of the car. Light blinds my eyes as the trunk is suddenly opened, revealing a uniformed officer and a man with long, brown hair, wearing a leather jacket. I shift the dagger away from their view.
The cop turns to the other man. “What’s going on here?”
He grumbles under his breath. “It’s the package I told you I had to move today.”
I blink in shock when the cop’s mouth pulls up into a smirk. “She’s a pretty thing. What’s with the dress?”
“Fuck off,” the kidnapper said. “I’m running late already.”
“No, wait—” The trunk is shut again with a bang.
Whoever is behind this has the cops in their pocket, and I’m just now realizing that kicking out the taillights wouldn’t have helped me. From what I managed to see when the trunk was open, my kidnapper is driving out of the city grounds. We’re far away from both Gagliardi and Montanari territory, but I still don’t rule Edoardo out as a suspect.
The car takes off again, and this time around, I’m desperate. The involvement of the cop and the knowledge that I’m being taken away from the city pushes me into survival mode. I start banging the sides of the trunk as soon as the car starts moving.
“You’re making a mistake, you dickwad! My husband is going to find you, and he’ll carve your heart out of your chest.”
“Don’t you need to be married first to have a husband?” the man taunts, chuckling.
Does that mean Raffaele isn’t safe? Surely if they had lain in wait and hurt him too, he’d have said something to indicate as much. I can’t think about all of that right now. If I get delivered to whoever is behind this, I have a feeling it’ll be game over for me.
“Is it money? I’ll double whatever he offered you. Triple, in fact,” I say.
“Save your breath,” he scoffs.
“You’re wasting your loyalty on someone who lets other people do his dirty work,” I taunt, hoping to get a reaction. One that will hopefully make him stop the car and come around to confront me.
“C’mon, c’mon,” I mutter as I saw at the thick ropes around my ankles with what little movement I can get from my wrists.
Tears of frustration fill my eyes as the dagger slips out of my clammy hands, and at the same time, the car drives over another bump, sliding the weapon away from my reach. Hysterical laughter bubbles inside of me.
Fuck this war, and fuck this life of blood and danger.
