Page 58 of Vicious Rule

I keep telling myself Alex will be here any minute. He has to have noticed I’m gone by now. His mother probably told him what I said to her, but I know him well enough to know that won’t matter. It likely did make him want to see me, though, and when he couldn’t find me, I know he started looking.

At least I want to believe that.

But what if he’s so busy planning his attack on the Olivetti family that he doesn’t notice I’m missing and comes in here guns blazing? Now I want to throw up even more.

I look around the room they’re holding me in and wonder how this can be part of the Olivetti estate. I’ve always heard they were loaded, but this room with its plain mud walls painted a bland off-white and cracked tile floor don’t say money to me.

For a second, I wonder if I’m someplace far from Rome. No. I don’t know how I know, but not enough time has passed to get me to somewhere that far away. So if this is on the family’s estate, why is it so shabby?

Andre walks in and sits down across from me in a chair much like the metal one he fastened me to when we arrived here. How could I have thought this guy was decent? Now that I look at him, all I see is the shifty look in his eyes and a sneer that seems like it wouldn’t belong on the face I’ve smiled at every day for months.

“I just got off the phone with your boyfriend. He really is a hothead. I have to know. Why do you go out with him?” he asks like we’re two best friends chatting over coffee.

Lifting my chin, I give him my best defiant look at say through the gag, “Fuck you.” The only problem is it comes out sounding like nonsense and he doesn’t understand me.

Andre laughs at my sad attempt to tell him off. “I can’t understand you when you’re like this, Sasha.”

In my garbled way, I say, “Then take this gag out of my mouth, asshole.”

He stares at me for a long moment trying to figure out what I mean and then walks over and tugs the gag from my mouth. “There. It doesn’t matter if you try to scream, so don’t bother. Now what were you saying?”

I stretch my mouth and jaw until the pain in them fades away enough for me to talk normally again. “I said fuck you. I can’t believe I thought you were a nice guy.”

My insult seems to offend Andre. Sitting back on his chair, he scowls at me. “I am a nice guy. Anyway, what the hell would you know about nice guys anyway? Look at the fucking tool you’re with.”

“Alex isn’t a tool. He’s a son of a bitch. A motherfucker. A bastard to deal with in business. But not a tool. You’re a tool.”

That insult doesn’t bother him, and he grins from ear to ear. “Be nice, Sasha, or I’ll tell my bosses to rough you up. Wouldn’t want that pretty face getting bruised or worse.”

I take a good hard look at Andre and try to figure out how I didn’t see he was a traitor to Alex. I was too busy worrying about making sure he didn’t get fired because I thought he made him jealous. Stupid girl. One of the few times in my life when I wanted to protect someone and this is what it gets me.

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet tonight,” Andre says with a smile. “Something on your mind, dear?”

“He’s going to kill you, you know. You and everyone he finds in this house. They’re going to have to use dental records when he’s finished with you guys because you’re going to look like a jigsaw puzzle with a couple of pieces missing. Let me go now and maybe you’ll have a chance to run away. Don’t and it’s just a matter of time before he kills you.”

My words don’t affect Andre, but they should. I know Alex. The part of him that scares me, the part that I always thought made him more animal than man when I was working with Gideon is going to come out, and God help any of these bastards when he gets his hands on them.

A door behind me opens, and I hear footsteps as someone walks around me. I turn my head to see who it is, expecting Nico Olivetti to appear, but a man I’ve never seen before stops next to Andre and folds his arms across his chest. He’s big but not as bulky as the bodyguard. Tall with nearly black hair and dark eyes, he looks like practically every other man I’ve met since I moved here to Rome.

“Do they just copy all of you from one guy? Which shithead are you?” I ask the new man.

His eyes grow large at my snarky questions, but he doesn’t react with anger. In fact, he seems amused by me.

“Angelo Olivetti. You’re far prettier than I expected. My brother has terrible taste in women, so when he said you were beautiful, I expected to see the usual fare he prefers. You’re a nice surprise.”

“And you’re going to be dead tonight if you don’t let me go.”

I don’t bother mentioning that he’s going to be dead whether he lets me go or not. Even if Angelo Olivetti had nothing to do with my kidnapping and being held here, Alex was always going to kill him after he dared to take a shot at him.

“You talk big for such a little thing.”

Every word that leaves his mouth is measured. In some tiny way, he reminds me of Gideon. That won’t help him either with Alex.

“I think you might have a chance if you let me go right now,” I lie. “But if not, I hope you have your affairs in order. Kiss your wife or girlfriend goodbye. Tell your kids to be good, assuming they live out the night. Whoever you have to say your fond farewells to, do it now because when Alex gets here, there won’t be enough of you left to fill a fucking Mason jar when he’s done.”

Both men smile like they think I’m being sassy or cute. Neither, guys. Clearly, they’ve underestimated the man they’ve pissed off.

“Okay, have it your way. Just remember when you’re lying in a pool of your own blood with pieces of your body being filleted left and right that I told you so.”

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