Page 47 of Drowning in the Deep

He took hold of my chin, squeezing too tight as he tilted my face up to him. “I’m going out, and while I’m gone, you should think about that. Think of all the shitty ways you’ve betrayed your family. All of the opportunities I’ve given you to prove that you are loyal that you’ve fucked up. I’m going to a wedding of a family friend of Lillian’s. When I get back, I’ll bring my pruning shears, and we’ll make sure that you understand how important family is to me before I snip you right out of my family tree.” He slapped me on the cheek a few times, not hard this time, just forcing home the idea that he meant what he said.

He was chuckling under his breath as he scooted the chair out of the way, the metal legs dragging across the concrete floor in a squeal that made my blood run cold, and then, he slammed the door closed, gone until he returned to kill me.

I let out a shaky breath. Suspecting I was going to die soon and straight up knowing it were too different things. As much as I wanted to think of ways that I might be able to escape, or as desperately as I wanted to send a mental message loud enough and strong enough that Daemon wouldn’t be able to ignore it, I knew my efforts were futile. No one was ever going to figure out that I was there. My father would come back in a few hours, probably drunk off his ass, and kill me. Then, I’d just be gone, and Daemon would go on about his life, probably finding another piece of ass, another woman’s face to tattoo on his arm over mine, and my father would either kill him, or he’d find another way to go about knocking off my dad.

I wasn’t sure which would be best. If my father killed Daemon, would the two of us be together in whatever came next? Or would we continue to be tormented in the afterlife, never truly together? If my father died, would I be able to exact revenge on him in hell, or would I be sent to heaven for enduring this horrific torture while my father burned in an eternal pit of fire?

I didn’t believe in God, not at the moment anyway, so it was hard to think of myself gaining entrance to paradise upon my death. With my luck, reincarnation was real, and I’d wake up right back here in this same shitty reality, as someone new for my father to torture.

Karma was a bitch, but it never seemed to catch up with people like Alexander La Rosa. As I hung there on the pole with my entire body aflame, I vowed that, if I somehow managed to get out of there, I would find a way to kill my father, whether I had Daemon’s help or had to do it on my own. If there was one thing Alexander La Rosa was right about, it was that I was stronger than he’d ever given me credit for. So, given another chance, I would most definitely find a way to rip his heart out and shove it up his ass.

Or, perhaps more fittingly, up his nose.

CHAPTER32

DAEMON

My tires squealed as I took a corner too fast, exiting the freeway. The smell of burning rubber hit my nose, but I kept my foot mashed to the gas pedal, barely looking in either direction as I barreled out into an intersection. If I wrecked this car, I’d be pissed, but only because it meant I wouldn’t be able to continue to drive it to the La Rosa mansion.

Viktor’s words kept playing through my mind. La Rosa had gotten pissed at his daughter and had her tied up in his basement? I was going to have to find a new girl to warm my bed? What the fuck had that bastard done to her?

“I knew I should’ve fucking killed him when I had a chance,” I declared as I took another corner at a high rate of speed. I slid sideways, like I was in one of those fucked-up racing movies, but I straightened it out without hitting anything and continued on my way, throwing out prayers and wishes to any deity that might be paying attention that I somehow managed to reach her in time.

What the fuck was the matter with me anyway? Since when did I give a rat’s ass what happened to anyone else, especially a La Rosa bitch? I knew, though, when those words formed in my head that I had a serious problem that I hadn’t been willing to acknowledge until that moment. This woman had gotten under my skin, not just on it, and if I wasn’t willing to accept that, I was going to fuck up in more ways than I already had. If other people, namely Alexander La Rosa, could see that she was a liability to me before I could see it for myself, well, that just left me open to getting wounded in ways I hadn’t ever experienced before.

No, once I got to Elisa and made sure she was safe, I’d have to start protecting her in order to protect myself.

I pulled into the driveway of the La Rosa mansion, noticing the house was eerily quiet. This wasn’t too big of a shock to me because I’d seen La Rosa go off and leave the damn thing practically unoccupied a few times before, but it always confused me. Was it because he had too few men in Chicago to guard it properly, or did he just assume no one would come after him as long as he was with my mother?

“The wedding,” I muttered under my breath as I got out of the car, making sure I had my gun at the ready. “He probably went to the wedding with my mother.” And he probably had all of his lackeys along with him for show.

Well, unfortunately, my mother had a tendency to show up late for those sorts of occasions, so chances were, she wouldn’t have arrived yet by the time they drank the toast. Which meant I’d lose my chance of taking La Rosa out the easy way with everyone else. That was too damn bad.

Pushing those thoughts aside for now, I approached the front door. It was locked, but that wasn’t going to stop me. I drew my gun and raised my foot, letting all of the rage I felt at whatever La Rosa had done to Elisa channel through me as I gave the door a couple of swift kicks. The wood splintered, and I was able to push it open with my foot.

Stepping into the entryway, I had my gun at the ready as I looked around. I didn’t see or hear anything at first. No one was moving. The house was still and silent.

Then, I heard a sob from behind a chair to my left and quickly moved in that direction. Behind the furniture, I found a small blonde woman on her hands and knees, trying to hide from me. Immediately, I grabbed her by the collar and yanked her to her feet. She wore a maid’s uniform and didn’t look like she was even old enough to be out of high school. Maybe she wasn’t. I’d never seen her before and missed the last maid, the one who’d been of help to me the last time I had to storm in here.

“Please, Jesus, help me,” she said, pressing her hands together. It was too late for that shit. Jesus wasn’t helping me—and he wasn’t helping her either.

“Where’s La Rosa?” I demanded.

She shook her head. “At a wedding, sir.”

“Who else is here?” I pointed my gun at her temple.

She thrashed about wildly, panicking. “No one. Everyone is gone but me, sir.” Her eyes were wide with terror as she assumed I’d just shoot her in the head to get rid of her.

“No one is here?” Viktor had told me that Elisa was in the basement, so if she truly wasn’t here, what did he do with her? Had he killed her already? How long had she been here? I thought back over all of those missed calls and how I’d just assumed she was busy and hadn’t gone to check on her. Fuck, I was such an idiot. Why hadn’t I gone to check on her? If I was unable to save her, I’d never forgive myself.

“No one is here, mister,” she told me again, but I didn’t buy it.

Slamming her against the wall, I held her by her throat. “Listen, woman,” I began, the gun still pointed at her head, “if you tell me the truth, you won’t get hurt, but if you keep fucking lying to me, you’d better fucking hope Jesus hears you and can teach you how to dodge bullets because I will end you so fast, you won’t get in a single Hail Mary, got it, bitch?”

Frantically, she nodded at me, and I could see her mind racing as her eyes darted around. She was trying to determine whether or not to tell me the truth. Finally, she blurted out, “The basement.”

I arched an eyebrow. “There’s someone in the basement?”

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