Chapter 3 - The Unlocked Door
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The walk back to my cramped apartment in the South End took forty minutes. The Boston rain had turned into a freezing drizzle, but the cold didn't bother me. I was completely consumed by the feeling of being hunted. Every shadow in the alleyway looked like a man in a dark suit. Every passing car sounded like an armored SUV.
My mother had disappeared eight months ago, leaving behind nothing but a cryptic voicemail telling me to forget her name and never, ever look for her. She had been terrified. Now, I finally understood why.
I reached my apartment building, rushing up the three flights of stairs with my keys clutched between my knuckles. I paused at my door. The deadbolt was unlatched. The wood was slightly ajar, letting a sliver of yellow light spill out into the dim hallway.
My breath hitched in my throat. I pushed the door open slowly, reaching for the heavy brass umbrella stand I kept by the entrance.
"I wouldn't do that," a gravelly voice echoed from the living room.
Dante Rosselli was sitting in my worn-out armchair. He looked completely out of place in my dingy apartment, his expensive charcoal suit contrasting sharply with the peeling wallpaper. Two of his massive enforcers stood silently by the window, the city lights reflecting off the suppressed pistols in their holsters.
"How did you get in here?" I demanded, trying to keep my voice steady despite the absolute terror coursing through my veins.
"I own the building," Dante stated matter-of-factly, casually examining a framed photograph of my mother on the side table. "I bought it twenty minutes ago. Pack your bags, Alina. You're coming with me."
"I'm not going anywhere with you," I shot back, gripping the doorknob. "I don't care who you are. I don't care how much money you have. You can't just kidnap me."
May you like
Dante stood up slowly, towering over me. His eyes were cold, calculating, and entirely devoid of mercy.
"I am not kidnapping you," he said softly, stepping into my personal space until I could smell his expensive cologne mixed with the faint scent of gunpowder. "I am hiring you as my son's personal nanny. Because if you refuse, the men who have been tracking your mother's debts will find you by morning. And they are not nearly as polite as I am."
