Chapter 12 - The Cage
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They threw a black hood over my head and shoved me into the back of an SUV. I rode in terrifying, suffocating darkness for twenty minutes, my wrists bound tightly with zip-ties. My mind raced with images of Dante bleeding in the alley and Christopher trapped in the explosion.
When the hood was finally ripped off, the harsh fluorescent lights blinded me.
I was sitting in a metal folding chair in the center of a massive, empty warehouse. The smell of fish and seawater told me we were somewhere on the docks.
Lorenzo Mancuso stood in front of me, casually smoking a cigarette. Behind him stood Silvio, the traitor. Silvio looked nervous, sweating profusely in his expensive suit, shifting his weight from foot to foot.
“You betrayed the man who treated you like a father,” I spat at Silvio, my fear morphing into a cold, desperate anger.
Silvio flinched, refusing to meet my eyes.
“Silvio is a businessman,” Lorenzo laughed, stepping forward and blowing smoke into my face. “He recognized that the Vitali bloodline was weak. Vincenzo was a brute, and Christopher is ruled by his emotions. Emotions for a singer, of all things.”
“Christopher will kill you both,” I said fiercely, channeling a bravery I didn't truly feel.
“Christopher is currently bleeding out in the basement of a ruined meatpacking plant,” Lorenzo sneered, grabbing my chin forcefully. “My men have him surrounded. But I ordered them not to finish the job. I want him to hear you scream over the phone before he dies.”
Lorenzo pulled out a sleek smartphone, dialed a number, and put it on speaker.
It rang twice before a ragged, breathless voice answered.
“Mancuso,” Christopher growled, the sheer hatred in his voice making the phone vibrate.
“Hello, Christopher,” Lorenzo smiled, holding the phone near my face. “I have a present for you. Say hello, little bird.”
I clamped my mouth shut, refusing to give them the satisfaction.
Lorenzo sighed, stepping back. He nodded to one of his massive guards. The guard stepped forward and drove a heavy fist directly into my ribs.
The air rushed from my lungs in a violent gasp, and a sharp cry of pain escaped my lips before I could stop it.
“Emily!” Christopher roared through the speaker, the sound of absolute, unhinged fury echoing in the warehouse. “If you touch her again, Lorenzo, I will peel the skin from your bones!”
“You are in no position to make threats, Vitali,” Lorenzo laughed. “You have thirty minutes to surrender yourself at Pier 44. Come alone, unarmed. Or I put a bullet in her head and send her back to you in a box.”
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Lorenzo hung up the phone.
I gasped for breath, the pain in my ribs agonizing. Christopher was going to walk into a trap for me, and we were both going to die.
