Page 63 of The Devil's Den

They push at my back and I keep up with them through the darkness surrounding me. We enter inside, the air changing, the door creaking shut.

“Watch the stairs,” one says as though I can see them, but they haul me down and I try not to trip. My blindfold and bag are pulled off, my eyes blinking, adjusting to my surroundings.

The soft pounding of music blends with the moans, disgust piling in my stomach, seeing men abusing those they have no business touching.

A hand drives at my back and I keep walking until we reach another door they open. We enter a small room where Agnelo waits with a smile on his face, two others beside him.

“Sit,” Agnelo demands harshly. “Get comfortable. You may be here a while.” Mockery is in his tone, a vicious glare on his face.

“What the hell is this?” My attention wanders from the single row of six seats before me, to the partition reaching the ceiling, keeping us away from the round stage with lights pointed to it.

I take slow steps, catching sight of more men seated in this circular room, set up like it’s a theater. I plant my palms on the plastic partition. The observers, they’re all in suits and black and gold masks. The place is filled to capacity.

“What the fuck?” I snap, facing him. “Where am I?”

“It’s a show.” There’s humor grating his voice. “You remember those from when you were a kid?”

He sets a hand over my shoulder and shoves me down onto one of the red velvet chairs, then takes a seat beside me.

My eyes jump from him and the stage, my head swimming with confusion. “Why the fuck am I here?”

“I just wanted to give you something you may have been missing.” His mouth thins as he looks onto the stage just as a bell rings, like a call. In the silence, it sounds louder. Ominous.

My pulse races and my ears buzz. As the doors from within the stage open, loud with a bang, it kicks up even more.

Two men march up to the stage, the same masks on their faces, and music starts to drift. No words. Just the sound of it. On any other day I would’ve enjoyed it, but not today.

Turning, I speak low, my fury seething. “You want me to go and join them, is that it?”

He chuckles, patting my knee. “You really would do anything for her, wouldn’t you?” His cold, brown eyes fill with disdain. “It’s too bad you always fail. She’ll never be yours, my boy, and I’ll prove it to you.”

“What the hell does that mean?” But before I could wonder, the crowd erupts in a hushed whisper, and that’s when I see her.

“Aida!” I jump to my feet, banging on the partition. “I’ll get you out.”

“It’s soundproof. She can’t hear you.” He pulls one leg over the other as I stare at him from over my shoulder. “But she sure as fuck will see you.”

Yet she doesn’t look at me, her eyes swiveling around the crowd. I could only see the left side of her face as she stares ahead at the two men. She backs away with trembled steps, hitting the door.

The men grin viciously, enjoying the fear riddled in her expression, and every single muscle in me fills with rage. My teeth gritting, fists clenching, I look at Agnelo.

“You can’t fucking do this to her.” I march to him, grabbing the collar of his shirt. “I’m begging, please don’t do this. She’s yourdaughter.”

“Daughter?” He snickers. “She’s not my fucking daughter. I have no daughter.”

I jerk back, my hand falling away. “What?” I stare hard, not understanding, glancing at Aida at the same time the men advancing on her as her body jolts with a tremor.

“She’s not my daughter. She never was. It was the biggest con I ever ran.” He leans back, his arms crossed. “Her mother worked for me.”

“You mean you…” I trip back a step.

“Kidnapped her?” He shrugs with a chuckle. “Yeah, I kinda did.”

Oh fuck…this can’t be happening.I jump back another step, my body growing ice cold.

“When we took her mother, she had a kid with her—cute little thing. My men had no idea what to do, so they brought them both to me. As soon as I tried out her mother…” He slumps forward. “I told myself she was gonna stay with me, where I could have her whenever I wanted.” He inhales, his mouth lifting at the corner. “Mmm, mmm, still the best pussy I ever had. They lived in that basement. Her mother knew the chains like you do. And Aida, well, she hated me. Not much has changed, I guess. Even when she’s forgotten about how she came to be with me.” His laugh grates up my insides. “She was probably four… I don’t fucking remember now. They were on the news for a while until the family gave up hope. I hid them well. No one could find a trace of them.” He looks damn proud of that.

“Where’s her mother?” I spit out, constantly glancing back at Aida, the men now slowly marching at her side by side.

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