Chapter 5~ Bloody Doors

Chapter 5

Stacy

°° °° °° °°

I slumped in the damn chair, every muscle in my body screaming in protest. It had been days—weeks, maybe—since I’d had a decent shower or a proper meal. I twisted my wrists, even though I’d done it a thousand times in the last hour, each time with the same fruitless result.

I’m fucking tired, too fucking tired.

But at least I’m still breathing, that’s a ray of hope there, right?

Well, after the gunshot Vincenzo fired in the car, still breathing felt like a twisted miracle. Not even a scratch, maybe his target was bad? But he did kill that guy behind me without blinking.

I sighed, I’d missed my only chance to run. That’s how I knew my body was losing this fight.

Fuck, I’m so fucking weak!

Sitting there, I felt like a piece of shit—dirty, useless. Vincenzo’s cells didn’t allow me the luxury of basic amenities, and my body’s biological functions had practically shut down for the past three months.

But right now, judging by the way my stomach cramped and how heavy my breasts felt, I think I might be getting my period soon.

Oh, how I dread the thought, because what a way to remind me how stupid I’d acted with Russel and for what? Nothing.

I didn’t even have a fucking bra—or panties.

How the hell am I supposed to cope with the bloody mess of a period while either being tied to this damn chair or dragged around by men who hated me more than they hated the devil himself?

A child would have saved me from all this.

Fucking Russel. I had defied all odds for him, risked everything. All he had to do was give me a child. That child would’ve been my only leverage, my only hope. I had prayed that one night would grant me that wish because I couldn’t bring myself to do that to him again.

But of course, it didn’t. Not when God was grinning right down at me in disgust.

I heard the door creak open, followed by the heavy, deliberate footsteps of Vito. I didn’t need to look up to know it was him; the stench of tobacco and expensive cologne which my brain had involuntarily registered when he dragged me here was unmistakable.

That bastard must pay them awfully well for his men to smell this nice.

“Finally, someone remembers there’s a human being in here,” I croaked, my voice rasping from disuse. “Are you going to unchain me now?”

Silence.

He didn’t even spare me a glance as he approached, if anything, his expression hardened into an impassive mask—almost like he had discovered a whole new reason to despise me in the short period since our last meeting.

I shifted in the chair, my skin itching from the filth clinging to me. “Okay, big guy, I’m not exactly sure if I’m supposed to drop dead from that look or undress.” He still said nothing, just glaring at me. “But since you won’t tell me which, where’s Vincenzo?” I tried again, but it was like speaking to a brick wall.

Maybe I’ve gotten so dirty that my charms don’t work anymore. This bulky giant was impenetrable, stoic as ever.

The EarPod in his ear beeped, and he moved away to listen like he was waiting for an order. There was a moment’s pause before he said, “Right away, boss.”

When he came back, he removed the cuffs and before I could say anything, his hand clamped around my arm, yanking me out of the chair with a force that made my knees buckle. I gasped, trying to find my footing, but he was already dragging me toward the door.

“What the fuck?” My voice heightened with rage. “You fucking, useless arrogant brute! I can handle any rough handling from Vincenzo, but from you—”

“Shut the fuck up!”

But I couldn’t stop the words from spilling out. I needed to keep talking, to hold on to some semblance of control. If I didn’t, I feared I might lose whatever grip on reality I had left. I hurled insults, promised him hell on earth, and threatened his entire lineage, but Vito didn’t respond after that, not even a grunt.

His silence was as heavy as the chains that had once bound me to that chair. I stumbled after him, each step an agony as my legs screamed in protest, weakened from lack of nourishment.

As we moved down the dimly lit corridor, the air thick with despair, a sense of dread settled in my gut.

Something was wrong—terribly wrong.

The usual buzz of voices and distant laughter that filled the underground halls when I was brought in was absent, replaced by an eerie quiet that made my skin crawl.

I glanced at Vito, searching his face for a clue, anything that might give me an idea of what was going on. But his eyes remained fixed ahead, cold and unyielding. I could see the tension in the set of his jaw, the tightness in his grip.

Whatever was happening, it wasn’t good.

Oh God, I wish Vincenzo Mancini has dropped dead from cardiac arrest or something worse.

Even though, I’ll still dig him up and chop him up by bits either way. The thought filled me with a sense of satisfaction that made me smile.

I was led through a series of narrow passageways, the walls closing in on me with each step. Fucking Italians and their love for complex decor, what the fuck’s with all the passageways and doors?

We went into a deeper part of the place, most likely the club where drugs and all that shit were wired. I could feel the stares of men as we passed, their gazes heavy with contempt.

They hated me, every single one of them, and I hated them right back.

Finally, we arrived at the private area of the club. Vito paused, his hand still gripping my arm, as he stared at a door. Two men built just like him with heavy beards, dressed in suits were just outside. For a moment, I thought he might say something, but then he released me, shoving me forward without a word.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake! Not another transfer to another set of mute idiots!”

I stumbled, catching myself just before I hit the floor. When I looked back , Vito was gone, these new guys had dark, unreadable eyes. One of them pushed the door open and shoved me inside.

“You know you can always ask nicely, right?” I hissed at them right before the door slammed shut behind me.

I looked around, my tired heart pounding in my chest. The room was dimly lit, the walls lined with dark wood and rich, red velvet drapes.

God, I’ll go blind with all these dim lights.

A single chair sat in the corner of the room, facing a large mirror on the wall, a desk in the center, and other stuff I didn’t bother to take in.

The whole place made my skin prickle with unease.

I knew better than to let my guard down, but I was so damn tired. My muscles ached, and my head spun with a dizzying mix of hunger and anger. I took a shaky breath, trying to steady myself, but it was no use, so I walked to the chair in front of the mirror and sank in.

“That doesn’t speak well of your manners.” A cold voice echoed from the shadows.

My heart skipped a beat, but only because it was unexpected. I knew it wasn’t Vincenzo, so I wasn’t exactly scared. But whoever it was, he held power around here and could probably assist Vincenzo in making my life even more miserable if he wanted to while Vincenzo takes a fart break.

Because I could feel his eyes piercing through the darkness, I responded in a casual, nonchalant tone, “No one in this fucking place has the right to talk about manners. Y’all have been tossing and shoving me through more doors than I’ve ever been in my entire life. Anyone ever told you if you need an adult to do something, all you need to do is ask?” When he said nothing, I added, “You should teach those giants that.”

I heard him release a breath before he said, “Let’s just get this shit over and done with.”

Before I could dwell on that, another door opened.

Oh, for fucks sake, not another bloody door!

A tall, lean figure stepped into the room. His face was obscured by the shadows, but I could see the glint of something metallic in his hand.

The dim light slowly revealed his features.

He was likely in his early thirties, with sharp features and cold, calculating eyes. There was a cruel smirk on his lips as he stopped in front of me, the metallic object in his hand catching the light.

A knife.

Okay, maybe I was wrong about not being scared.