Page 6 of The Diávolos: Part One
I attempt to twist my body around when strong arms lift me off my feet and I’m thrown onto the couch with force. Before I’m able to scream or run, realization dawns on me as I recognize the person’s face.
It’s the man from the club. The guy who kept staring at me. The one who averted his gaze when I looked at him.
I shriek and he rushes at me to stifle my scream with a pillow. I throw my arms up to grab onto him, my nails scratching his arms on contact. I violently kick him with my feet, but he’s too strong and his weight is suffocating me.I am not going out like this. I can’t.
I won’t allow myself to die at the hands of a stranger right at the beginning of the next chapter of my life.
I gasp out, “Stop. Please.” My voice is muffled against the pillow, but my attacker keeps it glued to my face. Air is being taken from my lungs and I struggle to breathe. My eyes slowly drift shut and I fight to stay alert.Stay awake, Angelica. Do. Not. Give. In.
“If you don’t stop wriggling, you’re going to make my dick hard,” my attacker says while laughing. The repulsive sound rings in my eardrum.
I stop moving, the more energy I waste, the more I’ll sink into a deep sleep and pass out. I can’t let panic win and deprive myself of strength. The man notices I’ve stilled and eases his hold on the pillow.
“Good. No need to make this harder than it should be, Angelica,” he says. “You’re quite brave for a girl your size.”
My eyes open wide at the sound of my name. The world crumbles around me as my terror multiplies, and I wonder how on earth he knows who I am. I thought this was a burglary attempt gone wrong, but I have no doubt now it has something to do with my father. I can’t even shake in fear. I’m in total paralysis thinking about what this stranger could want from me.
“I’m going to remove the pillow, but if you scream or try to run, things will get a lot worse,” he threatens.“Am I clear?”
I nod my head and he throws the pillow to the side. I gasp loudly, hungry for air, and I try to calm the massive panic attack threatening to surface. I feel like a fish out of water as I struggle to catch my breath, tears stinging my eyes.
I realize that somehow, during the struggle, he managed to drug me because I feel dizzy. My eyes are so heavy. I can’t seem to keep them open no matter how hard I try, but I manage to look up at him. “Who are you and what do you want from me?” I croak.
"It's not you we want something from, it's your father," he says, hovering over me. It's the last thing I hear before I slip into unconsciousness.
* * *
When I wake up,a surge of pain goes straight to my head; I’m not sure if it’s a hangover or whatever the guy used to sedate me, maybe a combination of both. I struggle to pry my eyes open, but from what I can see, I’m no longer in my apartment.How did he get me out of there unseen?
My hands are bound behind my back to an uncomfortable wooden chair. I try to wriggle myself off with no success. Panic starts rising, but I will myself to stay calm. If there’s anything that I’ve learned from being a mobster’s daughter, it’s that these people thrive off fear. I will not give them that satisfaction.
My eyes open wide enough to take in my surroundings and I notice I’m in the middle of a large, furnished office, with a mahogany desk and leather chairs, though none of it seems familiar.Where am I?
I squeeze my eyes shut and pray that this is all just a dream. That I’m going to wake up from this terrible nightmare. My instinct is to snap the hair tie around my wrist to check if this is real, to calm my anxiety, but I can’t reach it with my hands tied. Regardless of how many times I blink, I’m still in this office, bound to this chair. I shift in my seat, but the only thing I achieve is inching my chair forward and chafing my wrists. I wince in pain as I start to feel the soreness in the rest of my body.My body.
A rush of terror hits me as I realize I don’t remember anything after losing consciousness. I look down and exhale in momentary relief seeing that my clothes are untouched.
I hear footsteps approaching and I instinctively squirm on the chair as panic creeps back in. The office door swings open. A tall, tanned man walks in, flanked by two others, one of which I recognize as the guy who assaulted and kidnapped me yesterday.Was it yesterday? God knows how long I’ve been here.
I quickly run my gaze over them, but I let my stare linger on my attacker, wishing I could throw darts at his face. My heart races in my chest as I take in the sheer size of the three men in front of me.
What appears to be the leader of the group walks over to me and effortlessly turns my chair to face his desk as he leans against it, crossing his legs and staring at me, not one ounce of emotion in his steely eyes. I turn my face away and will my legs to stop shaking. If I weren’t in this situation, I’d even think him handsome, with his perfectly coiffed hair, thin goatee, and slightly pointed nose. He looks like the spitting image of Wilmer Valderrama.Seriously, Ang? You’ve just been kidnapped.
“You’re probably wondering why you’re tied up to a chair,” he says.No shit, Sherlock.“I wouldn’t have taken such drastic measures, but Luis told me you’re afeistyone,” he adds with a dry chuckle.
My assailant laughs as he grabs his crotch in response. Bile rises up my throat.
“See, my issue isn’t with you, Angelica,” he says. “But when my men found out that Peter’s daughter was living among us, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.”
“It’s too bad it took us this long,” he adds. “I’m surprised he even let you out of his sight after the incident many years ago.”What the hell is he talking about?
Seeing I have no intention to talk, he continues. “Your father and I have been in a silent war for quite some time now, but he won’t let up.” He uncrosses his legs and leans closer, as if to tell me a secret. “If he won’t stop trying to take over my part of Antium City, I willmakehim,” he says in a threatening tone, and I shiver. “If he thinks he can bring his dirty business into my city, he has another thing coming.”Great. I’m being used as a pawn.
I roll my eyes. If he truly believes mybabawill stop his plans on my account,hehas another thing coming. “Good luck,” I say. “My father doesn’t give enough of a shit about me to care that I’ve been taken.”
The man moves even closer, only a few inches away from my face, and rubs his thumb over my lips with a smirk plastered on his face. I yank my head away in disgust, but he quickly grabs onto my chin, turning my head back to face him, and laughs. He looks up at my attacker. “You weren’t wrong about her feistiness.” Luis shrugs his shoulders and I let out a scoff.This is ridiculous.
“Your father might not give a shit, but I know someone else who does. I’m sure he’ll be persuasive enough to get your father to care,” he replies.
