Anya de Luna's POVI’m sitting next to Alexander, who still hasn’t come to. They just dropped him on the floor and locked us in the room again.My nerves are frayed, and I don’t know how much more I can take.Xander went along with my lie, and because of it, they beat the crap out of him. I feel horrible for putting him in this position, but in all fairness, I’m here because he kidnapped me.It’s hard to think of Xander as my kidnapper especially when we’re being held captive by worse people.My eyes move over all his injuries, the slash on his left forearm, the stab wound in his right hand, and all the blood on his face. It looks like his nose is broken.I wish I could clean him up.My gaze darts to the door, and I’m torn in two. What if I ask for a first aid kit, and they torture us some more?What would Xander do?He’d give them attitude.Climbing to my feet, I suck in a deep breath of air and walk to the door. My insides begin to tremble with fear, but knowing I won’t last long if
Xander Vittorio POVI was worried Ponti was going to starve us to death, but luckily they finally gave us something to eat.It’s four pieces of dry bread and one chicken breast each. It’s a far cry from Mama’s food, but it will have to do.I finish my food before Anya is done with her first slice of bread.When she catches me eyeing her food, she tears the chicken breast into strips, takes one of the strips, and pushes the rest of her food closer to me. “You need it more than me.”I hesitate for a moment, but knowing she’s right, I take two strips of chicken and a slice of bread and wolf it down.“Finish the rest,” I say, not wanting her to starve.We’ve been in this room for three days, and after the first day’s torture, we’ve only been allowed out of our prison to visit the restroom. It’s usually in the morning and late at night. It’s also the only time we get to drink water.If they’re going to feed us every three days, we’re fucked.Another thing that worries me is that I’m gettin
Anya de Luna's POVI’m struggling to process everything.This is crazy.Terrified out of my ever-loving mind, my eyes dart over Riccardo Ponti, Darius, and the other three men. Just the thought of them raping me turns my insides to stone. Then there’s the threat that they’ll kill Xander and me.Even though the past three days have been hell, I still don’t want to die. I’m still hopeful Xander’s father will rescue us.One of the men watches me with blatant lust, and my stomach rolls with disgust. God, please don’t let them rape me. They can tear all my fingernails off– just don’t let them rape me.When Xander reaches for the zipper of my pants, he whispers, “Keep your underwear on. I don’t want them seeing you.”A fresh wave of tears spills from my eyes, and I swallow hard on a sob as I nod.“Focus on me,” he reminds me.I’ve only had sex once. It was last year, and it hurt a lot.Xander pushes my pants down to my feet, and as I step out of the fabric, he takes hold of my hips and lift
Xander Vittorio POVWhen the room becomes unbearably cold, Anya begins to shiver.I push her away from my chest, and taking off my shirt, I struggle in the darkness to make sure it’s the right way around before I tug the fabric over her head.“It’s not much, but it will help,” I say as I adjust the fabric around her torso and hips.“Thank you.” Her voice sounds hollow and fragile.I pull her back against my chest and soak up the heat from her body. “You okay sleeping like this? It will help us generate some heat.”“Yeah.”It’s the middle of fucking winter, and if we don’t use our bodies to keep each other warm, there’s a possibility one or both of us will get sick. The old radiators I saw in the hallway and the heat from the building pipes might keep away the worst of the winter, but it’s still going to be cold as fuck in this room.Minutes pass before I ask, “How are you feeling? Physically.”“Sore,” she admits. “It didn’t hurt as much when I lost my virginity.”Christ.Guilt rears i
Anya de Luna's POVI think it’s been two weeks since we were kidnapped.The only way we keep track of time is when we’re allowed to go to the restrooms. But the days are blurring together.I don’t get hungry anymore, and it’s hard to eat the little food they give us. I always give three-quarters of mine to Xander. He needs it more than me.Because of our situation, I don’t process things the way I would typically do. My survival instinct is stuck in overdrive, and honestly, it feels like a lifetime has passed since Xander and I were forced to have sex.My pinky nail is starting to grow back, but Xander said it will take around eight months to grow out fully.The cut on his forearm is almost completely healed, but the stab wound is taking a little longer. At least it didn’t damage any nerves, and he can move all his fingers.Instead of letting the trauma overwhelm me, I’m more worried because my period is due in a week. Or maybe it’s just a couple of days. I can’t tell.I’ve heard some
Xander Vittorio POVAnya thinks it’s only been three weeks, but I’m sure we’ve been here for over a month.Because we’re only fed every three days, I’ve lost most of my weight and muscle mass. Anya’s face has become hollow, and when she tries to share her food with me, I have to use all the strength I have to deny the scraps so she can get some nourishment into her body.I still haven’t seen Marc Vincent since the first day, and my worry for my brother is eating me up alive. For all I know, Marc Vincent is already dead.We also haven’t been taken from the room to be tortured since Ponti forced us to have sex. But that doesn’t mean we’re not suffering.My worry for my brother and watching Anya fade away is a different kind of torture that nothing in this world could prepare me for.Melody and I sit side by side during the day, and at night I pull her onto my lap so we can help keep each other warm while we try to get some sleep.Sleep. It’s not something I’ve had much of. I only manage
Anya Santini de Luna POVAfter the first glimpse I get of Marc Vincent, I’m horrified out of my mind and can’t bring myself to look at him again. Spending weeks in a dark room with Xander, I’m not mentally prepared for this level of violence.Unable to tear his eyes away from his brother, I want to reach out to Xander to comfort him. But I don’t dare, knowing it will shine a spotlight on us.My eyes flit to Ponti, and seeing the twisted enjoyment he’s getting from Xander’s reaction, my stomach churns with bile.Deep down, I know today will be the worst, if not the final day of our captivity.“I’ve had some fun with Marc Vincent while you fell in love,” Ponti taunts Xander. He lets out a chuckle, then adds, “Today, you get to choose who I torture.”Slowly, Xander pulls his eyes away from his brother to look at Ponti. “I choose myself.”Ponti starts to laugh as if Xander just said the funniest thing, the sound making goosebumps spread over my skin.“Ahh…” Ponti shakes his head, “you kno
Alexander Vittorio POVComing to, I’m confused as fuck. My body feels like it’s been torn apart, and I struggle to pry my eyes open. For a blissful moment, I don’t remember what happened as I glance around the sterile room, seeing Maryo sitting on an armchair.My best friend glances at me, and instantly a smile spreads over his face. He rushes to the doorway, and leaning out into the hallway, he shouts, “Xander’s awake!”My parents and Tanya come barreling into the hospital room.Mama looks like she’s aged ten years, a shock of white streaks in her dark brown hair. Her face has new lines, and her eyes are dull with heartache.Tanya starts to cry and comes to grab my hand.Then my eyes land on my father’s stern face.Marc Vincent. Anya. The moment of bliss splinters, and every shard flays my soul to shreds.My brother’s head falls forward, and blood trickles from the gunshot wound to his temple.NONONONONO!My body fails me, and as I drop to my knees, three shots echo into the night. M
He slipped the ring on her finger, climbed onto the bed, and swept her into a kiss. By the time he was done, her head spun more than a little, and there was a strange clapping sound assaulting her ears. “Ignore them,” he whispered, cupped her jaw, and lowered his head for another kiss.Confused, she looked beyond him, toward the door. Val, Ginger, Ariana, Lee Anne, Anaisse, and Tommy gathered just beyond the threshold, clapping.“About time, Snowflake,” Ginger called.“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” Ryan called, never taking his eyes off her. His smile held wicked intent.The door whooshed closed.“I’m injured,” she warned as he moved in.“I’m careful.” He traced the front opening of her hospital gown, barely grazing her flesh.“I guess you are,” she managed, as his fingers parted the gown.“And creative.” As proof, he tapped the bed-adjust button and eased her into a more reclined position.She raised a brow at him. “A nurse could walk in here at any moment to check on me
The light hum of female voices registered first, followed by the smell of roses and lilies. Annabelle lay still for a moment, kept her eyes closed, and did a quick physical inventory. Toes? Check. Fingers? Check. Head still attached to the shoulders? Check.Best she could tell, all parts were present and accounted for. She felt stiff and groggy like she’d been asleep for a week, but nothing too alarming. A vague impression of Ryan holding her hand and telling her not to worry about anything danced through her mind, but she couldn’t say for sure whether that was memory or wishful thinking. She racked her brain for something more. Other images formed—a nurse with a short brunette bob offering her water. Anaisse smiling through tears while helping brush her teeth and hair—but no Ryan Ferrer.Deciding to chance a look around, she opened her eyes and blinked a few times to adjust to the sudden brightness. Sunlight streamed through an unfamiliar window, below which sat a metal cabinet holdi
Ryan hurried down the passageway toward the stage, hugging the wall and keeping his steps quick and light. He doubted anyone would hear him coming over the noise of the party, but he didn’t plan on leaving it to chance.The passageway widened at the back of the stage. A retractable metal security gate spanned the stage to prevent anyone from moving the festivities to the backstage area. The blackout curtain hung just beyond the security gate. He wrapped his hand around a slat and gave the gate a shake, testing it. Fully secure, with very little give. No one had slipped into or out of the backstage area through there. He worked his fingers between the slats, moved the curtain aside, and looked out. A sea of zombies, ghouls, princesses, and pirate wenches danced under flashing purple lights. Nothing unusual.His phone vibrated. He pulled it from his pocket and checked the screen. A text from Tommy read, At the back door. Wait for me. For a nanosecond, he considered waiting, because, pro
Detective Ryan FerrerRyan bit back a curse as he examined the broken lock. Kicked in? He pulled his gun and crept through the door, keeping it low. Since nobody shot him in the head the moment he cleared the threshold, he swept left with his gun, then right. No sign of anyone.He straightened, stuck his gun into the back of his jeans, and debated his choices. Val’s office and the dancers’ dressing room were down the hallway to the left. The hallway on his right led to the stage, and beyond that, another narrow hall led to the back door of the club.Instinct told him to go right since that direction ultimately led to an exit. He shot off a text to Tommy. The door’s busted. Get back here. Don’t bring Anaisse. He didn’t wait for a reply, just tucked the phone in his pocket and started down the hall, scanning in every direction as he went. A few steps along, he glanced down and froze. What the hell…? He crouched and picked up a small white feather.His heart thundered in his chest. Annab
Oh, no. No one would see them up there. “I can’t. I’m afraid of heights.” Also, she was in no condition to scramble up a straight-vertical ladder. Numb hands, shaky legs, and the unrelenting pain in her side made the climb risky.She released a shuddery breath when the pressure of the gun disappeared from the center of her back. Her shoulders dropped and she relaxed infinitesimally, just knowing the damn thing wasn’t poised to blow a hole through—The cold, unforgiving metal pressed against her temple, scattering her thoughts like seagulls. She heard the click of the safety release.“Climb or die.”“Okay, okay.” The words scraped along her tight, dry throat. Turned out her fear of bullets trumped her fear of heights. She clasped the nearest rung in a bloody grip. “I’ll climb.”Working her way up the ladder took even more effort than she’d anticipated. Escape scenarios cart-wheeled through her mind too quickly for her to get a solid hold on any one plan.Stay calm. Easier thought than
Fuck, fuck, fuck, Annabelle, where are you? Ryan cut a path through zombies, mummies, and vampires, scouring his search area for any sign of her. There was none. To compound his apprehension, his phone remained frustratingly silent. The secret hope he’d harbored that she’d sneaked away to a stall in the ladies’ room to put herself together and curse him to hell and back waned with each passing second.If anything happened to her, he’d…he didn’t know what he’d do. His hand shook as he shoved it through his hair, pulling hard at the roots until his scalp screamed. They had to find her. End of discussion. There was no way his last interaction with the love of his life could take place in a back room at a strip club, her staring at him with a heartbreaking expression on her face, saying, “I’m sorry.”Absolutely not. He’d find her. And when he did, he’d sit her down and they’d have an honest talk—no more games or tactics. He’d ask her, point-blank, what the hell part of their relationship
Now Tommy turned and looked at him. “She doesn’t have her phone.”“What?” True, Annabelle hadn’t been carrying hers either, but Anaisse was the responsible twin.“You saw what she’s wearing. You think she’s got a BlackBerry built into her shoe?”“I was hoping.”“Sorry to burst your bubble. I don’t suppose Annabelle told you what she did on her way in to the party?”The bad feeling came back. Stronger. “She said something about handling her pen pal.”“She scooped him. He threatened to reveal that she used to strip for a living. Annabelle decided to break the news herself, so she rolled out of the limo this evening and held herself a press conference, during which she mentioned she’d spent two years dancing at Phoenix.”He felt the color drain out of his face. “Holy shit. Exactly why am I not supposed to be worried yet?”Tommy shrugged but returned to inspecting the crowd. “She could be right. Now that he’s got no hammer to hold over her, he’ll lose interest.”“Maybe. Or could be he’ll
The insult stung. Did he really think he’d fooled her up until they’d danced? Like she only recognized him by the feel of his cock? “I knew it was you the minute I saw you. Letting you think otherwise was just”—she lifted her shoulder in a casual shrug—“an entertaining little game. But the game is over and, ultimately, doesn’t change what I want.”Apparently, she could sting him back, because his eyes narrowed. Then he ground his hips against hers until she bit her lip and moaned.“You’re sending mixed signals, Annabelle. You don’t know what you want.”Sadly, she did—she wanted far too much, more than he’d offered—but her stupid, traitorous hips lifted, seeking more from him.“Careful. The condom…” He reached down between them and pinched the base of his erection, holding the latex in place. But when he started to pull out, she panicked.“Don’t.” Her hands flew down to his hips, and her fingers dug in to hold him still. Don’t leave me empty. Not yet.“Annabelle…” He swore under his br
Annabelle rode out the last trembling aftershocks from the mind-numbing orgasm—the kind of full-body meltdown only Ryan could deliver. Shaky, sweaty, and tingling like she’d been struck by lightning, she barely registered when he lifted her and put her on his lap. She opened her eyes and immediately tumbled into his. Dammit. He pinned her with an expression she couldn’t fully read, but made her heart want to flip over in her chest and expose its soft underbelly. Which only proved she was, in fact, her own worst nightmare. No faceless stranger could lay claim to the title. She held that honor all on her own.Was that what you were looking for, Angel? He’d spoken quietly, but she heard the test in his voice as if daring her to push him even one more inch.Oh, she dared. Pushing him was about the only thing she dared do at this point because she knew full well her resolve would collapse like a house of cards if she came clean about their charade. And God only knew what confessions would