The Capture

POV: Chiara

Brutal, unyielding daylight slashes across my face, dragging me awake with a skull-splitting throb.

It takes a disorienting second to process my surroundings. I am in my childhood bedroom. Then, the crushing reality of last night violently crashes back into my chest. Rocco dragging me to the estate. The horrific news. Teo is dead.

I stumble into the bathroom, aggressively splashing cold water on my face. The broken girl in the mirror perfectly matches the devastation tearing me apart inside.

Leaving the confines of my room, I navigate the sprawling mansion corridors in search of my father. I need answers. I need to see Teo’s body for myself.

As I approach his office, harsh voices bleed into the hallway. I immediately stop in my tracks, pressing my back against the wall to listen.

"Dima Volkov orchestrated the hit on Matteo," my father's voice is dripping with absolute venom. "He has been pushing to eliminate me. Now, the bastard needs to die."

"I stand behind you," Rocco replies, his tone tight. "But Volkov has the manpower and the money."

"I don't give a flying fuck about his resources!" my father roars. "He murdered my son, the heir to this empire."

"What about Chiara?"

"What about her?"

"It is probably for the best if she remains locked down on the estate until everything is resolved."

Panic instantly spikes my pulse. Is Rocco seriously suggesting I be held captive here? I refuse to be a prisoner.

"Agreed," my father barks out. "Get her things and have them brought here."

"She isn't going to come willingly."

"I don't care what you do," the cold, authoritarian command sends a chill down my spine. "Lock her in her bedroom if you have to."

His ruthless tone strips away any illusion of family loyalty. I silently backtrack down the hallway. I need to get the hell out of Miami right now. Was this what Teo had warned me about? Did he know someone was going to kill him? Am I next?

I slip back into my unusually quiet bedroom and throw the deadbolt. Glancing at the dresser, my bag sits untouched. I tear it open, my trembling fingers verifying the contents. The small emergency pouch Teo gave me before he died is still tucked safely in the inside pocket.

"Who did this to you, Teo?" I whisper to the empty room.

Rushing toward the window, I pray they haven't fixed the old latches. Whenever my dad got into one of his dark moods, I used to sneak out this exact way. I wiggle the heavy frame upward, grateful they never bothered upgrading security for a daughter who doesn't live here. I check both sides carefully. The coast is entirely clear.

I swing my legs over the ledge and drop into the humid morning heat.

Heading for the front gates is pointless. Instead, I sprint toward the overgrown perimeter at the back of the property, aiming for the secluded running path. I push through the foliage, my heart hammering. They will notice I am gone at any moment. This trail should lead straight to a neighboring house.

As I jog, I try to piece my shattered thoughts together. Who would hurt Teo? Who would want him dead? He was the most loving, kind man I knew. It is exactly why he clashed with our dad—he refused to be ruthless. I shake my head, fighting the tears. I cannot afford to break down right now.

It takes an agonizing ten minutes of sprinting to reach the neighboring property. I heard Gemma mention last week that these neighbors were going on vacation again. The silent, drawn shades confirm the place is totally empty.

I hurry around to the back patio, hoping they followed the classic wealthy Floridian habit of leaving a spare key under the mat. Surely enough, it is right there.

I unlock the glass door and go straight for the kitchen landline. Calling an Uber is out of the question—chances are my dad will track my cell phone, which I have already powered off.

I dial a local cab company, and ten minutes later, the yellow taxi arrives.

I rush into the backseat, asking the driver to take me to the university campus. From there, it should be super easy to maneuver. It is eleven in the morning, meaning Sienna should be in class. If anyone can help me without asking questions, it is her. Thankfully, traffic works perfectly in my favor.

"Right here is fine," I instruct the driver as we approach the brick buildings.

A deep gut feeling warns me to be extra careful. The cab pulls over, and I step out into the bustling pedestrian traffic. I scan the surrounding sidewalks, desperately hoping the campus will keep me safe. But before I can even cross the street, a heavy hand aggressively grabs my shoulder. I spin around, ready to swing.

"Hey babe, it's me. Are you okay?" Lucas asks.

"Sorry," I let out a shaky breath.

"I've been calling you for hours. I thought we were meeting for breakfast."

"My brother died yesterday, and I have no idea where my phone is," I drop the necessary lie to brush him off.

"Oh, come here." He pulls me in for an awkward hug. It feels nice, but my survival instincts scream that I need to keep moving. I am not safe out in the open. "I'm so sorry to hear that. Why didn't you call me?"

In my peripheral vision, a sudden flash of movement triggers every alarm bell in my system.

"Babe," Lucas calls, oblivious to my rising panic.

"What?"

"I was asking if you want me to take you home. You should be with your family."

I immediately start backing away. "I'm meeting Sienna."

Without warning, two massive, tinted Rovers violently pull up onto the sidewalk, completely blocking our path.

"Run!" I yell at Lucas.

But he is frozen in place. I start sprinting, but I am not nearly fast enough. A terrifyingly huge man snatches me right off the pavement.

"Let go of me!" I start kicking wildly, but the thug is at least ten inches taller and a hundred pounds heavier.

"Quiet," the giant barks.

"Chiara!" Lucas finally calls out, right before someone brutally knocks him down to the concrete.

"Don't you know who I am? Let me go! My dad is going to have your head for this."

The massive soldier just laughs darkly.

"Help, someone help!" I try to fight back, but before I realize what is happening, a damp handkerchief clamps down over my mouth. The sickly sweet chemicals flood my lungs, and the world goes completely dark.

I open my eyes, totally disoriented.

"Good, you are up."

It takes an agonizing second for my vision to adjust. My stranger is staring down at me.

"Why am I here?" I sit up quickly, my heart hammering in my throat.

"Because I said so."

I stumble out of the bed but instantly feel faint.

"Lie down." He effortlessly catches my waist before I can collapse.

I violently shove his hands off me. "Who the hell do you think you are? Why am I here? When my dad realizes you have taken me, he will come for me with an army."

"I'm counting on it."

"I don't know what kind of mess you have with him, but you have to let me go."

"Baby girl, I don't have to do anything."

I want to smack the arrogant smirk right off his face. I pivot and start storming toward the heavy bedroom door.

"I wouldn't if I were you."

"Get out of my way." I try to push past him, but he grabs my waist and hoists me clean off the floor.

Instantly, his intoxicating, woody scent overwhelms my senses, shooting a wicked heat straight between my legs.

"Put me down!" I scream, thrashing desperately to take control since my traitorous body clearly has a completely different agenda.

He throws me effortlessly backward onto the plush mattress. "What the hell is your problem?"

"Women who don't listen." The predatory way he looks at me is entirely disarming.

"I don't know what to tell you. I demand you let me go. If you have a beef with my dad, you take it up with him."

I scramble to get off the opposite side of the bed, but he takes a deliberate step toward me.

"Don't," he commands.

"I don't know who you think you are, but I don't take commands from anyone."

I lunge out of bed, but before my feet can even hit the floor, he shoves me backward, pinning me flat against the sheets with half of his muscular body.

"You will, and you will learn to love it."

"What the fuck? Let go of me!"

"The more you fight me, the harder this is going to be for you." I try to shove his chest, but he is built like a brick wall. He leans in closer. "This is your new home. I suggest you make peace with that."

His breath is a sharp, intoxicating combination of mint and expensive bourbon. I suddenly just want him to kiss me. I aggressively shake my head, trying to clear the insane urge away.

"Let me go."

"Not going to happen." He leans in even closer, making it dangerously hard to focus on anything else.

"I don't even know who you are, or what you want from me." The first part is a complete lie, and I know he sees right through it because a low chuckle vibrates in his chest.

"You know exactly who I am. You are here because your father almost took something from me. He crossed a line, and he has to pay."

"I am not my dad!" I scream, the raw injustice cracking my voice.

He shifts his weight, hovering so close that our lips are practically touching in the charged, terrifying space.

"I know," he whispers, his voice dropping to a deadly, intimate promise. "It's the only reason why you are alive."