All Chapters of A Bride For The Mafia King : Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Portia.The chopper lifts off. A soldier straps me in as we veer sharply west and I catch my breath, grasping hold of the edges of the seat.I hate this chopper.David is sitting across from me, facing me. In his eyes I see his hate.I can't still believe that Callahan is dead.But I felt it, didn't I?"How?" I ask him, my voice so small in the scream of the chopper's blades."Your lover killed him," David says."My... Fernando? He's not... Fernando killed him?""Don't pretend to care."I'm not pretending but I don't bother to explain that. Callahan is dead. He used up all nine of his lives.The chopper dips low unexpectedly and I gasp, my stomach lurching before that brick settles in again.Dead.Gone.I'll never see him again and all I can think about is how much I'll miss him."I didn't betray him," I tell his uncle, not that it matters anymore. Not that he'll believe me.He doesn't say anything, not for a long time and I'm not sure what I expect him to say. What I want him to say.

Portia.I blink my eyes open, looking up at the ceiling of a dimly lit, small room. It takes me a moment to remember what happened. To remember that Callahan is dead. And that his brother handed me off to David who will now sell me back to the cartel.This is my punishment because they think I betrayed Callahan.Not that either of them would have let me live, even if I could have convinced them that I hadn't. They hate me because I am an Esmeralda.At least Nathan is safe. But is he? How long has it been? Is he still in Naples waiting for me to come? I turn my head to look around the room. I'm alone but there's a camera set up directly across from the bed. The red light is blinking. I'm either being recorded or someone's watching me now.There's a chair in the far corner and two doors, both closed. The wooden doors are old, splintering.This whole place feels forgotten. A red neon light blinks outside from a street sign. The ratty yellowed lace curtain, only half-hanging off the rod,

Callahan.The private jet lands in Rotterdam a few hours later. The flight was tense, to say the least, my brother quiet. He knows he did wrong. But I can't forgive him. Not yet.Two cars wait for us at the airfield. Antonio, Dante and I climb into one, Antonio sitting in the passenger seat."House is in the city. About thirty kilometers from here.""You've got eyes on it?"Dante nods. “Only for the last couple of hours though. There are definitely two men inside and a woman.""Portia?"“Not sure yet.”I shift my gaze out the window.“We'll find her, Callahan,” he says.I watch passing cars as we merge into traffic.She got Nathan out. I'm glad she got him out. But she should have gone with him. Why didn't she? Was she waiting for me to return?"Does she think I'm dead?" I ask. Dante knows I'm talking to my brother.There's a long silence. “I told her you were because I thought you were,” he pauses, turns in his seat. I see him in my periphery. "She was upset to hear it."I don't let

Callahan."Sir, we have a lead on David," Dante announces as I turn away from the woman in frustration. Her English is broken but from what she's telling me, she's one of the women they'd trafficked at some point. Terrified out of her mind, she keeps making the sign of the cross every time she glimpses either of the dead men, a stream of words in a language I don't understand pouring from her."They brought me to make the food," she repeats again. "But the girl doesn't eat." When I turn away, she continues to tell one of the soldiers. "I go now," she says, nodding as if giving herself permission to leave.“Where?” I ask Dante.“Hotel in Amsterdam. I can get you there in forty minutes.”“Does he know we found him?”Dante shakes his head. "The man who just delivered his dinner called. Soldiers are on their way, but it'll be about twenty minutes before they're on site.""Let's go," I say, then glance at the woman who has started sobbing again. One of the soldiers is holding on to her. Sh

PortiaShe leaves the door open so I can see a part of the bedroom and hear clearly. I scrub my hair as I listen to her talk to Mara, chastising her for not being in her seat. She was at the window."Let's get you changed. Mr. Petrov will be here soon.""Do you know him?" Mara asks her as she undresses her before dressing her again in a pretty pink dress hanging in a garment bag from the closet door."No, of course not. But he's paid handsomely for you. Just look at this dress he sent.""It's very pretty," Mara deadpans. I can see her face from here. She hasn't even looked at it.“And look at this. There's even a teddy bear for you.”"I'm fifteen. I don't play with teddy bears," Mara says.“You'll accept it and be grateful for it. Now sit.""Do you know how old he is?""Why would his age matter? Silly girl. Now sit down so I can arrange your hair the way he wants it."Mara turns to look at Helga, who has her back to me. Her eyes catch mine for just a brief moment. “I'm scared," she te