Page 54 of Kidnapped By the Mafia

The door slams shut behind him, and I’m left in the cold, empty silence, my heart racing, my mind spinning. The fear is still there, still sharp and painful, but now there’s something else—something stronger.

I’m not going to die here. I’m not going to let Albrecht win. I’m going to fight, with everything I have, until Lucas finds me. Because I love him.

39

EMILY

The cold metal of the shipping container bites into my skin as they toss me inside. The smell of salt and rust is overwhelming, filling my nose and clinging to my clothes.

My legs buckle beneath me, but I force myself to stay upright, my heart hammering in my chest as I’m pushed into the darkness.

Albrecht follows me in, his presence as suffocating as the air in this claustrophobic space. The container is vast, empty except for the stacks of crates lining the walls, but it feels like it’s closing in on me, pressing down on my chest until I can hardly breathe.

I stumble, catching myself against one of the crates, my hands still bound, my skin raw and burning.

“Welcome to your new home,” Albrecht says, his voice echoing off the metal walls. He circles me slowly, like a predator sizing up its prey, his eyes gleaming with cold, calculated malice. “Not quite as comfortable as the penthouse, but it’ll do, won’t it?”

My pulse races, every muscle in my body tensing as I track his movements. I know what he’s going to do before he even says it, and the dread that fills me is like a living thing, clawing at my insides.

He stops in front of me, so close I can feel the heat of his breath on my skin. His hand reaches out, fingers brushing against my cheek in a mockery of tenderness. I flinch away, disgust curling in my stomach, but there’s nowhere to go. I’m trapped, completely at his mercy.

“Misbehave and you’ll be shipped off to one of my special places,” he continues, his tone conversational. “A brothel, maybe, or sold to the highest bidder. Men who don’t care about your tears, your screams. Men who’ll break you, just like I’m going to break you. But behave and you can stay in my home, and you’ll only have to open your legs for me, no one else.”

His words are like ice in my veins, freezing me from the inside out. The thought of being taken away, of being sold, is too much to bear. But even as the fear threatens to overwhelm me, a spark of defiance flares in my chest. I won’t let him see me break. I won’t give him the satisfaction.

He grabs my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. His eyes are cold, devoid of any humanity, and the smile that twists his lips is cruel and mocking. “You think Lucas will save you?” he sneers. “You think he cares about you? He’s probably already forgotten about you. Men like him use women and then throw them away.”

I know he’s lying. I know Lucas is out there, searching for me, fighting to get me back. But the doubt still creeps in, insidious and poisonous. What if he doesn’t find me in time? What if he never does?

Albrecht’s hand slides down my cheek, his touch cold and possessive, and I have to fight the urge to recoil. “Let’s see if we can break that spirit of yours,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with malice.

I hold my breath, every muscle tensed, waiting for whatever horrible thing he’s going to do next. But before he can act, his phone rings again, the sound jarring in the oppressive silence. He curses under his breath, the anger flaring back to life as he answers it.

“What now?” he snaps, turning away from me as he listens to the voice on the other end. Whatever he hears only seems to make him angrier, and I watch as his hand tightens into a fist, his knuckles turning white.

He storms out of the container, slamming the door shut behind him, leaving me alone in the cold, dark silence.

The only sound is my own ragged breathing, echoing off the cold metal walls. My heart pounds in my chest, each beat a sharp reminder that I’m still alive, still fighting, even if every second feels like an eternity in this hell.

The fear is like a living thing, wrapping itself around my throat, squeezing tight, but I can’t let it control me. I have to focus, have to think. Lucas is out there—he’s alive, and he’s looking for me. But I can’t just sit here and wait for him to find me. I have to do something, anything, to help myself.

My wrists ache from the ropes cutting into them, but I force myself to start working at the bindings, twisting my hands, pulling against the knots.

The rough fibers bite into my skin, but I grit my teeth and keep going, my breath coming in short, sharp bursts as I struggle. Every movement sends a jolt of pain up my arms, but I welcome it—it means I’m still fighting, still alive.

The minutes stretch on, each one feeling like a small eternity, but I can feel the ropes starting to loosen. My fingers are numb, but I keep working, refusing to let the panic take over. I can’t afford to lose control now. I need to stay focused, need to be ready for whatever comes next.

Albrecht’s words echo in my mind, each one a twisted reminder of the fate that awaits me if I don’t get out of here. A brothel. A slave. His pet.

The thought sends a fresh wave of disgust and fear through me, but it also strengthens my resolve. I’m not going to let that happen. I’m not going to let him win.

Finally, with a sharp snap, the ropes give way, and I pull my hands free, the pain in my wrists a small price to pay for the freedom. My heart races as I flex my fingers, the blood rushing back into them, the numbness slowly fading. It’s a small victory, but it’s enough to fuel my determination.

I stand on unsteady legs, my knees shaking as I push myself upright. The container is pitch black, the only light a thin sliver coming through the cracks in the door, but I can make out the faint shapes of crates and boxes stacked against the walls.

I stumble forward, my hands brushing against the cold metal, searching for something, anything, I can use as a weapon.

My fingers close around a length of metal pipe, rusted but sturdy, and I clutch it to my chest, the cold weight of it reassuring in my hands. It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing. It’s something I can use to defend myself, something that gives me a fighting chance.

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