Page 55 of Unworthy Ties
I didn’t even know where “here” was. The silence pressed in tighter, and I was forced to confront the gnawing dread that had nestled deep in my gut. My breath came in shallow gasps, each one a reminder of my vulnerability, the weight of my isolation wrapping around me like a vice.
After whispering to Giuseppe’s drawing, I pressed my forehead against the metal surface, letting the familiar comfort of his imagined presence ground me.
Then, I sat in silence, praying Rocco would magically rescue me. When I heard a low creaking sound from somewhere beyond my immediate confines, my heart skipped a beat. It was followed by a faint rustle, like the dragging of feet across a floor. I strained to listen, every nerve ending electrified with fear.
The rustling grew louder, each sound punctuated by the soft shuffle of footsteps, slow and deliberate. My heart raced, a frantic animal trapped in a cage, while I held my breath, straining to discern the source of the disturbance.
The rustling grew louder, deliberate and methodical, each step sending a spike of fear straight through me. My pulse thundered in my ears as I pressed myself against the far wall of the crate, heart hammering like a drum. The shadow that fell across the sliver of light confirmed my worst fear—this wasn’t a rescuer. It was him. My captor.
The faint scrape of metal against metal made my stomach twist. The door of the crate groaned as it was forced open, and a man leaned inside. My breath hitched, every instinct screaming to run, though there was nowhere to go.
His figure loomed like a nightmare, a hulking silhouette framed by the dim light behind him. I couldn’t make out his features clearly, but there was something unmistakably predatory in the way he moved—slow and deliberate, as if savoring the moment.
“Who-who are you?” I asked, trying to sound brave when I was anything but.
He didn’t answer, instead grabbing me by the collar of my shirt and pulling me out of the crate. The world spun as he hoisted me to my feet, the confined darkness of the crate replaced by a building’s dim, stale interior. My arms flailed, heart hammering like a drum, but his grip was iron, unyielding. The air was thick with the scent of oil and rubber, and the low hum of the engine vibrated through the floor beneath me.
I tried to wrench free, but every motion seemed to fuel his tightening hold. My voice caught in my throat, panic bubbling over as the reality sank in: I was completely at his mercy.
“S-stop!” I said, but the word came out as a desperate whimper. He leaned closer, and I caught a glimpse of his face.It was hard, angular, and his eyes were as cold as the steel surrounding us. A cruel smile twisted his lips, twisting my stomach into knots.
“Stop,” he echoed, the word dripping with mockery.
He let the word hang between us like a challenge, his grip tightening just enough to remind me I wasn’t imagining my helplessness. My knees threatened to buckle, and I swallowed hard, trying to keep my fear from spilling over. The dim light caught the glint in his eyes, sharp and unyielding, and I knew pleading wouldn’t earn me mercy.
The man dragged me down a corridor with an unsettling calm, pulling me past warped doors and peeling walls that seemed to whisper secrets of despair. The generator’s drone faded into the background, replaced by a sinister silence that felt alive, wrapping around us like a living creature hungry for my fear.
He stopped at a door before knocking three times with an unsettling rhythm, each knock echoing like a heartbeat in the stillness. I could feel a cold sweat trickling down my spine, the chill creeping through my limbs as he turned to look at me with that same predatory grin.
“Time to meet the boss,” he said, voice low and rasping, and with that, the door creaked open.
When I didn’t walk in, he shoved me into the room, the sudden shift of my surroundings causing me to stumble and fall forward onto the cold, hard floor. I scrambled to push myself up, my hands trembling as they met the gritty surface.
“Nice to see you again, Gabriella.”
A man that looked extremely familiar stood with a casual confidence, leaning back against a large desk cluttered with papers and an assortment of sinister-looking tools. The dim light illuminated his face, and I struggled to recall where I had met him before.
“Oh,” he let out a dark chuckle. “Do you not remember me?”
A wave of recognition washed over me, cold and suffocating. It was the man who worked for the Salvaggio family that I had met at the gala. Salvatore Romano, his presence flooded my senses with an overwhelming sense of dread.
“What are you doing here?” I whispered. I knew Maximo Salvaggio and Rocco were friends; surely he would let me out of this place.
“Rocco has been causing quite some problems,” he said, as if reading my mind. “I had to take… action.”
“Action?” I echoed, my voice barely audible, trembling despite my best effort to steady it.
As Salvatore Romano stepped closer, his gaze piercing through me with an intensity that made my skin crawl, I realized the gravity of the situation I found myself in. The air in the room grew heavy with unspoken threats, his words hanging between us like a tangible force.
“Rocco has been digging into matters he shouldn’t, and there must be consequences.”
I braced myself, my mind racing with possibilities of what these consequences could entail. I knew I was in over my head, entangled in a web of dangerous alliances and betrayals that I never intended to be a part of.
Chapter 29
Rocco
It felt like an eternity, but Felix and I finally found the location where Salvatore Romano had taken Gabriella. Then, we got ahold of our closest friends—Emilio, Ettore, and Vincenzo—and together we planned our approach.
