Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Alberto may have clipped her wings, but I was going to make sure she would fly again.
***
2 weeks later
I stood in the driveway and watched Nikolay going through the lock, and then the door opened. I walked inside the house, my men following behind me.
The house was quiet, almost seeming empty. But the woman in the living room betrayed the perception of the house being empty.
Her back was to us, and at the sound of our footsteps, she swiveled around quickly, her hand going to her chest in panic. Her eyes flared in fear, and she took several steps back, hitting the wall behind her.
“Hello, Anna,” I started, walking further into the house, making the air seem more dangerous and deadly.
Anna trembled against the wall, her whole body quaking with terror. To say I was surprised that she came back was an understatement. She must have known what to expect the moment she stepped foot back into New York, but she still returned.
And now she would lead us right to Enzo.
“How was your trip?” I asked, taking a seat on the sofa in front of her. I sat back and crossed my ankle on my opposite knee, watching her reaction like a hawk.
“You…what…are…?” she stuttered, looking wildly around the room and at my men. She looked for an escape, but there was none. Not this time.
It didn’t stop her from trying, though. She ran into the kitchen, and I sighed in frustration.
“I don’t have time for a game of cat and mouse, Anna,” I called out loudly enough that my voice echoed across the walls.
I heard her scream, and she yelled at someone to let her go. Rubbing my face in frustration, I waited for her to come back to the living room.
I turned around to see Nikolay dragging her back as she flailed. Anna threw her body on the ground, trying to stop Nikolay. Instead of stopping, he just grabbed her arm, dragging her body across the floor.
“No. Let me go! Don’t hurt me, please,” she whimpered as Nikolay deposited her in front of me.
“If you cooperate, I won’t hurt you,” I replied stoically, leveling her with a glare.
She flinched and scrambled backward. Shaking her head, she whispered, “I don’t know anything about Ayla.”
My eyebrows raised up high in surprise, and a heartless chuckle vibrated from my chest. “How do you know I’m here for Ayla?”
Her eyes widened, and she snapped her mouth shut. Too late. She was already caught.
“Where is your husband? Tell me where Enzo is, and I will let you go,” I snarled, sitting forward so that my face was mere inches from hers.
She shook her head repeatedly. “I don’t know. I really don’t know. Please, I’m telling the truth.”
“I really hate when people lie,” I tsked before sitting back, giving the frightened woman some breathing space.
“I’m not lying,” she begged, her eyes wide with fright. She looked at my men, her eyes begging, as if asking someone to help her.
But no one was going to help her. She was at my mercy.
“I know the things you have participated in. Every single detail. You might have an innocent face, but you are far from innocent,” I hissed, my voice getting louder with each word.
Enzo was part of the human trafficking business with Alberto. What surprised me was when I found out his wife was part of it, too. She trained the victims to become slaves.
It made me sick to think that a woman would do that to another. It made my heart ache to know that Ayla could have been one of those victims.
Her shaking worsened, her face crumpling as tears slid down her cheeks. It didn’t faze me one bit. Her fear was useless, and she was helpless.
“Start talking!” I bellowed. Her back straightened as she flattened herself against the wall, cowering in the corner. When she said nothing, Nikolay stepped forward and pulled her up.
Viktor brought a chair and placed it in front of me. She fought Nikolay as he pulled her down on the chair. She screamed and cried when Viktor tied her body to the chair, rendering her useless and at our mercy.
“Please don’t hurt me,” she whimpered in horror when I took my gun out. “Please. Believe me, I don’t know anything.”
“I’m not going to hurt you,” I simply replied, my voice as emotionless as before.
“Have mercy,” she begged when I stood up, towering over her much smaller body.
“As I said, I’m not going to hurt you,” I scoffed at her attempt to beg. If only she would talk.
Leaning forward until our faces were close, I continued. “I will never hurt a woman.”
It was the truth. I would never hurt a woman or even lay a hand on them in an attempt to kill them. It wasn’t how my men and I worked.