Page 24 of Capo

“Solve it.”

I stride off to the dining room. I’m not eating alone. I rarely eat alone. There are quite a few of my men who come and go in the common parts of this house as if they live here. Most of the time the company is a nice distraction. They’re with me because they’re clever people, ruthless like me, loyal. Tonight it annoys me, though. I would have rather spent some time alone to think. I’m about to venture into uncharted territory, and I wonder if I should make plans, or just play it by ear.

Greeting the people mingling in the common area next to the dining room, I decide to do the latter. I’m good at improvising. Young Chloe will learn this very soon.

Chloe

“Please,” I whisper, my voice barely heard over the clattering of water on the tiles.

Ivan gets his shirt sleeve wet as he reaches in and turns off the stream. “Get up.”

“I don’t want to do this,” I sob. “I can’t!”

“Get up, miss.”

“Please!”

I scream as he grabs my good arm and pulls me to my feet, then I try to dig my heels into the cold, slippery tiles as he pulls me with him. “Ivan, no! Please, let me leave. I’m Chloe, I shouldn’t be here, I can’t be here, please don’t do this to me!”

Ivan grabs the remaining towel and throws it to me. “This is the only kindness you will see in a very long time, Miss Becker. Savor it.”

I scream then. A wordless wailing as he drags me into the office. His grip around my upper arm is vice-like, and impossible to fight, but when he pulls out a drawer that contains tools that look like something you’d use for torture, I renew my struggling. He picks up a black leather collar and tries to fasten it around my neck. I throw myself from side to side, whipping my head and shaking it. Ivan quickly changes his grip and grabs my broken arm instead, his fingers making deep indents in the soggy cast. I scream and go absolutely still to not worsen the sharp, paralyzing pain that sears through my limb.

“I have no intention of hurting you, Miss Becker. I don’t get off on violence, but I will do what’s necessary to follow Mr. Salvatore’s orders,” he says as he fastens the collar and pulls out metal cuffs and a chain. Looking over my shuddering, still dripping wet, body, he frowns. “Not sure what to do with your arm.” He holds up the cuffs.

“I can’t use it,” I say quickly, already planning to try no matter how much it hurts.

“I can’t risk it,” he mutters and clicks a cuff closed around one wrist and then the other. “Guess I’ll have to leave your arms in front.” He looks me over, then hooks a cold, heavy chain around my waist, tightening it, fastening it to the cuffs like I’ve seen them do with prisoners. My heart sinks. That’s what I am. I’m their prisoner.

“Please, you can let me go. I’ll disappear. I won’t talk to anyone, I promise.”

Ivan meets my eyes, grabs a black fabric out of the drawer of horrors and throws it over my head. It’s a hood and it falls to my shoulders.

“No!”

“Shut up, or I’ll stuff your mouth too.” He tugs at the chain, making me stumble forward a step. “Come.”

“Please!”

I hear rattling, then he lifts the hood, holding a rag in his hand. I widen my eyes. “I’ll be quiet,” I gasp. “I promise!”

He narrows his eyes as silence builds between us. “There will be repercussions, Miss Becker, if you make even one sound.”

I nod. I can barely breathe, every intake of air hitching on the thick lump of fear in my chest.

He drops the hood again and my world turns near-black.

“Now, mind your step.”

I sniffle, trying to choke it down, but I can’t help the tears that stream down my cheeks as he leads me through the house. We’re passing through too many rooms to count. There is talking and laughter that goes silent as we walk past them. The temperature and the scents shift. Finally everything is silent except for the sound of our steps. Ivan stops and tugs at the chain, making me come to an abrupt halt, almost falling.

“I’ll carry you,” he grumbles in his deep baritone.

His arms snake behind my thighs and my back and my mind spins from the sudden change of position as I’m lifted. It somehow goes even more silent, and his steps are muffled. It also gets colder, and I’m covered in goosebumps, my teeth chattering.

“Where are you taking me?” I whisper, hoping I am allowed to speak now that we seem to be very much alone.

He doesn’t answer, puts me down and pulls off the hood. I take a deep breath and squint against the light from a single lamp in the ceiling. Ivan stands in the doorway, the only way out. My heart almost stops and a wave of renewed panic surges through me.

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