Page 57 of Kidnapped By the Mafia

Albrecht could be waiting, ready to spring it the moment I show up. And then where will that leave Emily? Alone, vulnerable, with no one to save her.

Time’s up. I must decide. What matters more? Revenge or love?

41

EMILY

Iblink, waking up in time to see Albrecht sitting on a chair near the closed door, flashlight in his hand, smug smile plastered across his face.

His eyes are cold, predatory, as he waves the light over me, taking his time, savoring the moment. He thinks he’s already won. He thinks he’s broken me. But he doesn’t know me. Not really.

“You could have been well fed, sweetheart,” he says, his voice dripping with false sympathy. “But now, you go hungry while you watch me destroy the man you love.”

I don’t flinch, don’t let him see the fear that’s gnawing at my insides. I keep my eyes on him, steady and defiant, even though every nerve in my body is screaming at me to run, to fight, to do something. But I can’t—not yet. Not until I know what he’s planning.

Albrecht drags a chair into the container, the screech of metal on metal setting my teeth on edge. He positions it in front of me, deliberately close, so close I can feel the heat of his breath when he leans in.

The stench of cheap cologne and stale sweat makes my stomach churn, but I force myself to stay still, to keep my expression blank.

He pulls out a laptop from a black bag, placing it on the chair with a flourish, like he’s presenting some grand prize. “Your dear Lucas thinks he’s coming to my house to save you,” Albrecht sneers, his fingers moving quickly over the keyboard.

“But my men are waiting for him. And you’re going to watch as they tear him apart, piece by piece. I ordered them to do it slowly. Make sure it’s caught on camera so I can enjoy it over and over again.”

My heart skips a beat, but I don’t let it show. I can’t. Not with Albrecht’s eyes on me, watching, waiting for any sign of weakness. The screen flickers to life, and I brace myself, forcing down the rising panic. I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me break. I won’t give him anything.

“What the fuck,” he mutters. The screen is filled with the lifeless bodies of his men, strewn across the mansion’s floor like discarded dolls. Someone is waving at the camera. Jake.

He holds up a handwritten sign. Boss says go fuck yourself. My breath catches in my throat, and I can’t stop the small smile that tugs at the corners of my mouth. Lucas did this. He’s alive, and he’s already taken down Albrecht’s best men.

Albrecht’s face contorts with shock, then fury. He slams the laptop shut with a vicious curse, his eyes narrowing as they fix on me. The satisfaction I felt a moment ago is quickly replaced by a cold, creeping dread as he takes a step closer, his fists clenched at his sides. Fear flickers in his eyes.

“You think this changes anything?” he hisses, grabbing my arm with a grip so tight it sends a sharp pain shooting up to my shoulder. “Your husband will find you dead when he gets here. I will have that victory over him.” He drags me to my feet. “Time to die.”

Adrenaline surges through me, sharpening my focus. Without giving it a second thought, I drive my knee up into Albrecht’s groin with all the strength I can muster. The impact is solid, satisfying, and he lets out a choked cry of pain, doubling over.

I don’t wait to see the look on his face. I bolt for the door, my heart pounding in my ears, the blood rushing through my veins. I grab the handle and yank, but it doesn’t budge. It’s locked. Panic claws at me, but I push it down, forcing myself to think.

Albrecht is still recovering from the blow, his face twisted in pain and rage. I rush back to him, adrenaline fueling every move. I need the keys. I need to get out of here, to get to Lucas. I drop down, grabbing the ring of keys from his belt, but Albrecht tries to grab me, his hand snatching at my arm.

I twist away, landing a solid kick to his face that sends him sprawling backward. The keys jingle in my hand as I fumble with them, trying to find the right one, my hands shaking. The door looms in front of me, the only thing standing between me and freedom.

With a trembling breath, I slide the key into the lock, turning it with a click that echoes in the silent room. I swing the door open just as a shadowy figure bursts in. I swing a punch at the intruder but they catch it effortlessly. “Miss me?”

I recognize that voice. I look up into Lucas’s eyes as he kisses my fist.

The relief is overwhelming, crashing over me like a wave. I don’t hesitate—I throw myself into his arms, the safety of his embrace a balm to my frayed nerves.

For the first time in what feels like hours, I let myself breathe. “Looks like you didn’t need me,” he says, glancing past me at the groaning figure on the floor. “Attagirl.”

“He fucked with a Caprione,” I say, my voice breathless, but there’s a grin tugging at my lips. “Left him on the floor, nursing his hurt balls.”

Lucas barely has time to register my words before Albrecht, still hunched over in pain, lets out a furious roar and lunges up at us. Everything happens so fast—one moment, I’m in Lucas’s arms, feeling the safety of his embrace, and the next, I’m being shoved behind him, his body acting as a shield as Albrecht’s rage-filled form barrels toward us.

The room explodes into chaos. Lucas meets Albrecht’s charge head-on, their bodies colliding with a force that sends them both crashing into the nearby table. The sound of wood splintering fills the air as they grapple, each man fighting with a savage intensity that makes my blood run cold.

I stumble back, my breath catching in my throat as I watch the brutal exchange. It’s a raw, primal fight, nothing held back. Lucas’s face is a mask of focused fury, his movements precise and deadly, but Albrecht fights like a man with nothing left to lose.

They trade vicious blows, each one landing with a sickening thud that makes me wince.

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