Page 4 of Secret Revenge

“Think, Liliana, think,” I urged myself as I walked the perimeter of the basement. My eyes darted around the dimly lit space, taking in the various items stored there: rusty bicycles leaned against one wall, their frames twisted and broken; a washing machine and dryer sat unused, their surfaces coated in a layer of dust; a tool bench cluttered with an assortment of rusted implements stood in the corner.

“Nothing but useless junk,” I sighed, frustrated by the lack of anything that could aid in my escape.

Time was running out. I was sure someone would be down soon to check on me, taunt me, or just beat me up a bit for fun.

A glint of metal caught my eye, and I approached the tool bench with cautious hope. My fingers closed around the wooden handle of a hammer, its weight reassuring in my grip. With this new weapon in hand, I pressed on, searching for any sign of escape.

“My brow furrowed as I discovered a mildewed piece of fabric hanging on the back wall of the cellar. Its presence was strange, out of place in this moldy basement. Curiosity piqued, I used the claw end of the hammer to move it from the wall, revealing a hidden tunnel that sent a shiver down my spine.

“Could this be my way out?” I wondered, heart pounding as I crawled into the tunnel. It angled upward, offering a promise of freedom I desperately sought. The dirt was wet and clung to me, but I didn’t care. As I reached the end, my hopes were dashed by the sight of iron bars blocking my exit. I trued to push them open, but they were barred from the outside.

“Damn it!” I hissed under my breath, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Returning to the cellar defeated, I tried my best to brush away the dirt that clung to my clothing, praying no one would notice my futile attempt at escape.

I crawled back to my prison, hoping no one had noticed I was gone. I just had time to sit back in the broken wooden chair before a woman came downstairs, carrying a tray.

“I have some food for you,” a woman’s voice startled me, her gentle hands handing me the tray that held a sandwich and bottle of water. Her eyes held a mixture of pity and understanding, and she apologized for the harsh treatment I had endured. “I know how vicious these men can be.”

“Who are you?” I asked, wary but grateful for her kindness.

“Jocelyn,” she replied softly. “I’m Luca’s wife.”

“Luca...yeah, I met him.” I felt sorry for the woman who seemed as trapped in this world as I was.

“Thank you,” I said, taking a bite of the sandwich she had brought me. It tasted like heaven after my ordeal, but the taste of freedom still eluded me.

Taking another small, hesitant bite of the sandwich, I savored the taste of the salty ham and crunchy lettuce, momentarily forgetting the horrors of my captivity. As I chewed, I studied Jocelyn’s sad face, trying to understand her place in this twisted world.

“Jocelyn,” I began, swallowing the food. “Why don’t you run away from all this? You could be free.”

Her eyes flickered with pain, and she hesitated before answering. “I have a daughter, Abby. She’s being held next door. They only let me see her when I follow their rules.”

The mention of her child struck a chord within me, and the fierce protectiveness that had always been a part of my nature flared to life. I could not abandon her, nor her innocent daughter, to this living hell.

“Jocelyn,” I said firmly, locking eyes with her. “When I get out of here, I promise I’ll send help for you and Abby. You won’t have to live like this any longer.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, and she nodded, her voice barely audible as she whispered, “Thank you.”

As I continued eating, my mind raced with plans and schemes to escape this wretched place, each one more daring and perilous than the last. But no matter how impossible they seemed, I was determined to find a way out – not just for myself, but for Jocelyn and Abby as well.

For I was Liliana Romano, and I would not be broken.

“Jocelyn!” Luca’s voice thundered down the stairs, making us both jump. “Get up here and quit yapping with the prisoner!”

Jocelyn flinched at his harsh tone, her eyes welling up with unshed tears. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, quickly wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “I have to go.”

“Be careful,” I urged her, my heart aching for this woman who’d shown me kindness in the midst of such darkness. As she hurried up the stairs, I listened to the fading echo of her footsteps, a grim determination settling over me.

Chapter 3

Nicholas

My office smelled of scotch and desperation. I stared at the blueprints spread across the table, my mind racing with possible strategies to extract Liliana from Bianchi’s grasp. The surveillance footage flickered on the screen beside me, revealing the comings and goings of several of Bianchi’s top men. Riccardo had managed to get a tracker on a car Bianchi’s lieutenant drove and it led us to the house we suspected my wife was being held in.

“Boss, we’ve got a clear entry point here.” Marco, my trusted lieutenant, pointed at a narrow alleyway on the blueprint. “And according to our intel, this corridor has weak security coverage.”

“Too obvious,” I said, my jaw tense. “Bianchi would expect us to take that route. We need something less predictable, more discreet.”

I traced my finger along the winding streets within the neighborhood, feeling the weight of my responsibility to Liliana. I would storm the gates of hell itself to bring her back.

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