Page 116 of Wicked Rivals

My arm throbbed, and the bullet hole burned like crazy.

When I pressed on the wound to staunch the bleeding, blinding pain erupted beneath my fingers. My stomach turned, increasing my nausea, forcing me to swallow my vomit. Letting it out wasn’t an option. Luka would consider that weakness and be thrilled by it.

The asshole pulled out his phone to snap a photo of me lying on the floor in a puddle of my own blood. The sick fuck would probably masturbate to it later.

I blocked him out and focused on the pain, controlling it instead of letting it control me.

He grabbed my other arm and yanked me up on my feet.

“Get the fuck up, you stupid bitch.”

Then he dragged me to the elevator.

I struggled to stay on my feet, the slick marble floor smeared with blood, making it hard to gain any traction. It left a nice trail behind me for someone to follow, though.

I prayed Stefano would find me before I bled out.

My kidnapper moved quickly, his fingers forcefully gripping the flesh of my arm, making it impossible for me to break away. I thought about screaming for help, but if no one had heard the gunshot, they wouldn’t hear me either.

You never knew, maybe the timing could make a difference. What would it hurt if I tried?

“Help! Please help me,” I shouted.

Luka stopped and backhanded me across the face, and I hit the floor again with the taste of blood filling my mouth.

Yeah, that was what it would hurt. Me.

This time, when he yanked me back on my feet, he pressed the short barrel of his pistol against my temple.

“If you do that again, I will shoot you in the fucking head. Then I’ll do the same to your son.”

His pupils were huge, almost eclipsing his irises. Sweat beaded on his forehead and ran down the sides of his face. Not just from adrenaline. He was high.

He must have taken something before getting to Con Amore, and that made him even more unpredictable and dangerous. And a hell of a lot scarier.

I nodded to reassure him that I would keep my mouth shut.

He chuckled.

“See? You can be obedient after all.”

After we got back to the parking garage and then to his large sedan, he threw me into the trunk. I landed on my wounded arm and stifled a scream.

I gripped my arm, putting pressure on the wound again. I didn’t know if that helped dull the pain at all, but it had to help slow down the blood loss.

He slammed the trunk lid and plunged me into darkness.

A few seconds later, his car door slammed shut, then the engine roared to life. The tires squealed as he peeled away, and then the brakes made a grinding noise when he stopped quickly. More squealing tires. He was in a hurry.

Luka knew as well as I did…

Stefano Vignali was formidable, a notorious mafia boss known for his unwavering resolve, a cruel man who always needed to win.

And he would catch up with us sooner than later.

I believed that in my heart. I felt it in my bones.

Locked inside my kidnapper’s trunk again, I could only wait, prepare, and pray.

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