Page 32 of Kidnapped By the Mafia

I wander through the vast living room, my fingers trailing over the cool surface of the leather couch. I’ve done this a thousand times now, pacing back and forth, trying to figure out how I ended up in this situation.

Married to a man I barely know, a man who’s both dangerous and oddly protective of me. It’s all so surreal, like a twisted fairy tale gone wrong.

My heart aches with a longing I can’t quite define. It’s not just the freedom I miss, though that’s a big part of it. I miss the little things—the feel of the wind on my face, the random interactions with strangers that remind me I’m part of something bigger.

I felt like I wasn’t part of city life before. Now I miss it more than anything. Up here, it’s like I’ve been cut off from the world, like I don’t exist beyond these walls.

The internet isn’t much help either. Lucas has made sure of that. The connection is firewalled to hell and back, allowing me to shop, read, and watch movies but keeping me isolated from anything that might give me a glimpse of what’s really going on out there, or with him.

It’s infuriating. I’m surrounded by every luxury imaginable, yet I’ve never felt so confined, so alone. I can’t even send any articles out.

And it’s getting to me. The days blur together, each one a monotonous repeat of the last. I wake up, I eat, I pretend to be interested in the things Lucas has provided for me. But the truth is, I’m bored out of my mind.

The penthouse feels like it’s closing in on me, the walls growing tighter with every passing day. I can’t breathe in here. I need to get out. I need to feel the world again, to remind myself that I’m still alive.

But Lucas has made sure that’s not an option. Every door is locked, every window sealed. The only people who come and go are the cleaners and the occasional delivery person, all of whom are under strict orders to keep me here.

I’ve thought about asking them for help, but I know better. They’re loyal to Lucas, and even if they weren’t, the fear in their eyes tells me they wouldn’t dare cross him.

The window cleaners scrape the outside of the glass every few days but even they avert their eyes when they see me. Told not to engage, no doubt.

The need to escape gnaws at me, growing stronger with each passing day. I can’t keep living like this—trapped in a gilded cage, surrounded by luxury but starved for freedom.

I need air, I need space, I need something. Anything to break the monotony, to remind me that I’m not just some prisoner in a beautiful prison.

Today is no different. The cleaning crew arrives right on schedule, their movements efficient and practiced as they go about their work.

I sit on the edge of the couch, watching them through half-lidded eyes, trying to appear uninterested. But inside, my mind is racing. There has to be a way out, some crack in the armor of this fortress that Lucas has built around me.

And then I see it—a door left ajar, just slightly, but enough to catch my attention. It’s the door that leads to the service stairwell, usually locked tight but now hanging open, just waiting for me to notice. My heart skips a beat, adrenaline surging through my veins as I realize this might be my chance.

I stand up slowly, making sure to keep my movements casual. The cleaning crew is busy, their backs turned as they vacuum the carpet and dust the shelves. They don’t see me as I edge closer to the door, my pulse quickening with every step. This is it. This is my chance.

I slip through the door, holding my breath as it swings shut behind me with a soft click. The stairwell is dimly lit, the air cool and musty, but to me, it’s the most beautiful smell in the world. I’m out. I’m finally out.

I know I don’t have much time. Lucas’s security will notice soon enough, and when they do, they’ll come after me. I need to move, need to get as far away from here as possible before they realize what’s happened.

My heart pounds in my chest as I take the stairs two at a time, the sound of my footsteps echoing off the concrete walls.

I don’t know where I’m going as I descend the narrow stairs. I don’t have a plan beyond getting out of this building. But right now, that’s enough. It has to be.

The cold air hits me like a slap to the face as I push open the heavy door and step out into the alley behind the building. It’s not the glamorous cityscape I imagined—no bustling streets or open parks—just a narrow, dimly lit alley with the faint smell of garbage lingering in the air. But it doesn’t matter. For the first time in what feels like forever, I’m outside.

I take a deep breath, savoring the crisp air, the distant sounds of the city beyond. My heart races with exhilaration and fear, the adrenaline coursing through me as I glance around, trying to figure out my next move.

I can’t stay here, not out in the open like this. Someone could spot me, report back to Lucas. I need to find help—someone who can get me far away from here before he realizes I’m gone.

Just as I’m about to move, I see a police officer walking past the alley. Relief floods through me. This is my chance. I can’t believe my luck.

I rush toward him, my voice trembling with urgency. “Officer, please, you have to help me.”

23

EMILY

The cop turns to face me, his expression shifting from casual indifference to concern as he takes in the sight of me—disheveled, breathless, clearly desperate. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not,” I reply, my voice shaky. “I’ve been trapped in that building.”

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