Page 20 of Claimed by my Stepbrother

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. My uncle said that if I didn’t do it, they would kill my mother. I swear they didn’t pay me anything. I didn’t know what they were gonna do. I swear.”

“Tell me where they took her,” I demand.

“I don’t know. I swear. I’ve never worked for them. I’ve always worked for you. But…”

“But what? Spit it out?”

“But my uncle might know.”

“Put this little shit somewhere. We’re going to talk to Marco Barrone.”

12

THE CLOCK IS TICKING

GABBY

“Your boyfriend doesn’t seem too interested in getting you back. Maybe you aren’t as nice a piece of ass as I thought you were. Or, maybe he just doesn’t know how to make your kitten purr,” the man tells me.

“He didn’t take the deal, boss?” my guard asks him.

“Not yet, but he will. Shame, really,” he says, brushing his hand across my cheek.

“No, he won’t. He isn’t going to give you anything you want. He’s just going to save me and probably kill you while he’s at it. You made a big mistake by taking me, and you’re going to regret it.”

“If that’s true, then there’s no reason to keep you alive, is there? I mean, if he’s going to kill me, I might as well have my fun with you first then give him back your pretty corpse. Right?”

I just shake my head. I’m trying to be strong here. I do have faith that Giovanni is coming to get me, but if I keep antagonizing this man, he may just act on his threats. If that happens, Giovanni might be too late to save me. Yeah, it’s time for me to stop talking.

“Let’s go give that asshole another call,” he tells his men. “You better hope he’s more cooperative this time. If not, we’re coming back and I’ll decide what to do with you, Miss America.”

They leave and I leap to my feet. On the chance that Giovanni doesn’t find me in time, I need to either find a way out or find something to use to defend myself. There are no windows in the room, and the only door I can see is the one that the men just exited through. Maybe I can find a place to hide. If they come back and don’t see me, they might think I escaped. Who knows? If they run out looking for me, they might leave the door open so I can slip out.

With the exception of a single torn leather chair, the room is an empty box with nowhere for me to hide. The stone walls and dirt floor make me think that it’s some sort of cellar or basement. There must be stairs on the other side of that door. As I continue my search, my foot comes down on something sharp. It’s still very dark in here so I drop to my knees to find the item with my hands. It’s a screwdriver, and I slip it into my back pocket.

A storm of dust falls from the ceiling, landing on my head and shoulders followed by several loud bangs and the sound of heavy footsteps on the floor above me. Gunfire rings out, causing more of the dust to rain down on the room. I was right. This is a basement, and there’s a world of trouble happening upstairs.

“Giovanni!” I shout, praying he’s up there and he’ll hear me. “Help, I’m down here. Help.”

It sounds like a war is raging above me as the gunfire gets louder and closer. The room shakes and groans as the onslaught continues. On a whim, I check the doorknob, but the door is still locked up tight. I feel like a rat in a trap, and I pace back and forth in front of the door until I hear the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs.

Having no way of knowing who is on the other side of the door, I hug the wall, holding the screwdriver against my chest. My heart beats in my throat and my still-aching head throbs as I wait to face the person behind the door.

The door swings open and I remain tucked up behind it as the person steps into the room. I push the door and make a running start for the person in the center of the room. He hears me and turns around just in time to catch my wrist and prevent me from stabbing him with the screwdriver.

“Gabby, it’s me. Are you alright?”

“Giovanni, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left the house,” I babble as he takes me in his arms.

“Are you alright?” he asks me again. “Did they do anything to you?”

“No. I mean, my head hurts but I’m okay,” I tell him. “But you’re bleeding. Did you get shot?”

“It’s just a scratch, Princess. We need to get you out of here.”

The gunfire has slowed but continues upstairs.

“They’re still shooting.”

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