Chapter 4

The last couple of days have been the best ones in my life. Where melancholy once raged, there are sparkles of hope, and it grows every time I open one of Ryan's messages.

Ryan has blown my mind. He is sexy, funny, and supposedly hot, according to himself. I can't remember how I went through a day in the mansion without him humoring me during the day. And at night, god the man knows how to make me laugh with his perverted humor and desire to get to know the real me, Amelia the clone.

Simply thinking about Ryan sets my heart on a furious fire capable of even burning down my inner fears. I no longer care or cry when my father hurts me because I know Ryan will be there later to cheer me up.

Whenever I talk with Ryan, happiness skitters along my skin like the feet of young children, the man is the kindest soul I've ever spoken with. And I'm falling hard and fast—it's almost scary.

I've been locked inside my room for what feels like eternities, but things are about to change forever.

Ryan wants to meet me; he has told me many times on the phone, but sneaking out of this mansion is hard.

But tonight, my father is gone with the wind. He left earlier in the company of his men and Lily. My father didn't tell me where they were going, but the point is that he isn't here.

"Date night..." I sick in a deep calming breath, but it does nothing to calm down my palpitating heart. "Okay, here we go..."

I brace myself to my best ability before pushing up the door to the courtyard. Stepping outside is such a giant leap for me. The moon is hauntingly white, hanging full on the sky as I lock my eyes on the black Mercedes waiting behind the gates.

Fear trickles down my spine while a terrified voice inside my head is warning me, telling me to head straight back inside, but I push it down with the strength of my mind.

I can trust Ryan. This is just an innocent date. He told me to wear my most delicate velvet dress, which caresses my frozen legs as I steer myself forward.

Hopefully, I didn't overdo my hair and makeup; locks of brown are cascading down my head, at my eyelashes are so long I can see them when I blink.

"He will think I'm pretty..." I whisper to myself, hoping it will give me the well-needed self-confidence to hear it.

Shakily, I unlock the gates; there is no turning back now. And I notice the doors to the car opens the moment I'm standing there in the street, a bit out of place with heels so high I can barely stand.

I expect to see Ryan jump out with open arms, and a smile graces my face, but what I see leaves a hole in my chest.

Men in fancy black suits and fedoras surge out of the car, surrounding me before I get an opportunity to react. Strong gloved hands clamp down on my upper arms and shoulders, even muffling my mouth before I can scream.

And deep inside of me, I can hear that little voice again: "You should have listened to your instincts,"

But no matter how dumb I feel, I can't travel back in time. Who are these men? Did Ryan trick me? Dear Lord, I feel so stupid now.

A tiny part of my brain is still holding on to hope, thinking these men might not be with Ryan, but a darker part of my head is lifting a cigar, crooning at me with eyes that tell me what I already know: You got played, girl.

Violently, I try to fight the man holding me. I bite his arm, but he is two heads taller than me with a sturdy frame and evil eyes. He looks like he eats whole horses for dinner, and I shriek when he effortlessly kicks me into the cold mud.

"If you fight back, you get to taste the dirt, girl," The man is laughing behind me. I'm down on my knees, wincing in pain with filth covering my entire face.

I lift my chin from the puddle beneath me but freeze upon seeing a pair of shoes stopping right in front of my nose. Time seems to stop, and then the person grabs my hair, yanking it until I'm forced to stand and look up into their face.

I think that's when I stop breathing and when my soul drains from my body like dirt getting sucked up by a vortex.

Never in my entire life have I seen eyes like these. They are hauntingly blue and seeming to pierce straight into my soul. Beautiful, spotless skin covers his face, but his lips are cruel. And I guess if you could call a natural disaster beautiful, then this man would be gorgeous.

Danger seems to shine through the pores in his skin, and he is towering over me, probably twice my size if you count his extensive shoulders and muscular chest. He is wearing a black suit, custom-tailored to fit his toned body like a second skin—this man is insanely sexy.

"How is your hand, Giovani?" The man is speaking to the one who kicked me down onto the hard street, but his eyes observe me. And I stare up at him in return because I recognize that voice as Ryan. He is way taller than I expected, giant compared to my short 5'0 frame. "Did she manage to draw blood?"

"She did. I'm fucking bleeding, boss," Giovani growls in the background, kicking up gravel while groaning to himself. He is pissed off. "Little vampire, you got yourself there; the bitch bites hard too,"

Suits him right. I smirk in satisfaction, which Ryan seems to pick up on. His lips slightly curl by the corners, but it's gone in an instant as if he, for some reason, wouldn't let himself smile—that's when I realize he definitely isn't on my side.

But instead of crying over spilled milk, the feeling of betrayal tunnels through me until only anger remains. Ryan talked to me on the phone every day, we laughed and cry, and now he holding me up like I'm dirt in his field of vision.

How could he?!

"Good, I like the ones with some fight left within them; it makes it more fun to see them break," Ryan comments. "And trust me, this one will break,"

I snort up at his face. "As if you would be able to break me!"

The man I know as Ryan looks bored. "Trust me, sweetheart, you will break. I've destroyed men far more dangerous than you, slaughtered coldhearted enemies, and shot my own men who betrayed me—a girl wouldn't last a week with me,"

Ryan is smirking in satisfaction, and I challenge him by smiling back.

It seems to surprise him; his smirk disappears.

And I don't know where my inner courage is coming from, but I'm suddenly madder than a bull. Angry that this man pretended to be everything I wanted, a friend, and then more. A sane girl would shudder and beg for their life after his threats, but I'm staring him straight in the eye with my chest heaving.

"Try to break me; see if you can," I whisper tauntingly, aware of the dirt dripping from my face.

Ryan lifts me higher into the air, about to throw me over his shoulder like a lump of hunting meat, but as my feet leave the solid ground, I spit straight into his face.

Every one of his men turns silent; you could probably hear the wings of a fly if you listened. No one dares say anything. Everything is quiet and tense—even Giovani has stopped grunting.

Confused by the strange atmosphere, I turn to look at the man whose face is covered with my spit.

Ryan is standing ghostly still, holding me in the air with something resembling interest flickering in his eyes. He reminds me of turbulent waters, a great tsunami whose presence can silence and draw the attention of everyone around him. I keep looking at him, and the man tilts his head.

"Was that necessary?" A smile is touching his lips now.

I dig my eyes into his amused blue. I feel ruined all the way to my soul, scattered and betrayed by this man, who annoyingly enough can pull out an overly ecstatic response from my body—I fucking hate how I find him handsome!

"It sure was," I clench my jaw, refusing to back down even as I'm held up by his strong arms. "You're a coward, Ryan, and more than anything, you're a filthy disgusting liar!"

"Oh," His lips twitch. "You know who I am?"

"Please, I knew it the second you spoke!" I growl at him.

"Observant little thing, aren't you?" His voice is smooth like silk; it angers me further. "You're pretty too, like a princess,"

"Save the flirting for someone who cares!" I spit at him again, and this time he blinks with his eyebrows lifting.

"Are you done?" Ryan calmly asks, not even bothered by the saliva on his cheek. "Because I have places to be, and you're coming with me, sweetheart,"

Rage churns within me when I see Ryan look so calm and unbothered. He continues looking at me inquisitively like he expects me to fight back, but I don't know what to say. His gaze makes me very uncomfortable, not only because he is so still and confident but also because he is so goddamn attractive.

Eventually, I'm able to look away from his appearance and instead focus on my inner storm.

"No, I don't want to go anywhere with the likes of you!" I yell at his bored eyes, but there isn't a reaction, not even a smirk. "Why are you doing this? What will you even get out of kidnapping me?! I won't let you take me!"

Ryan snorts. "And how are you going to stop me, small fry?"

My eyes widen once I hear him tease me, and I swear the vein in my forehead is about to burst. "What the fuck did you just call me?!"

Tired of my yelling, Ryan hurls me over his shoulder. I hit his shoulder and back in protest, but the big guy ignores me. Instead, he effortlessly throws me into the backseat of the Mercedes. Men jump in on either side of me, squeezing me to the middle.

"You're the daughter of the man I hate," Ryan is lighting a cigar on the street, staring down at the ground with glazed eyes. "He took the only thing that mattered away from me, so I will return the favor,"