Chapter 6 - Captive Pawns
My defiance cost me dearly. Before I could turn, a gloved fist collided with the side of my face, sending me crashing hard against the stone pathway. White hot pain flared behind my eyes, and darkness crept into the edges of my vision.
Through the ringing in my ears, I heard Elisabetta shouting, her voice muffled as someone shoved an ether-soaked rag over her mouth. A heavy combat boot pressed into my back, pinning me to the floor. Another rag was clamped over my nose and mouth. The sweet, chemical stench burned my throat, and despite fighting with every ounce of strength left in my limbs, the world faded into black.
When I awoke, a pounding headache pounded in my temples. The air was frigid, thick with the smell of motor oil, damp concrete, and rusted iron.
I was sitting on a cold wooden chair, my wrists bound tightly behind me with thick zip-ties that cut into my skin. Across the dimly lit room, Elisabetta was tied to another chair, her head slumped against her chest, breathing softly but alive.
We were in an abandoned industrial warehouse along the Calumet River. Water lapped against concrete pilings outside, and rain drummed violently against corrugated tin roofs.
""Ah, the brave little waitress is awake,"" a mocking voice drawled.
Giancarlo Rossi stood near a metal barrel where a small fire crackled, warming his hands. His suit was immaculate, completely out of place in this grimy hellhole. Two armed guards leaned against the doorway, smoking cigarettes.
""Adrian will tear you apart for this,"" I rasped, my throat raw and parched.
Giancarlo laughed, a dry, rasping sound. ""Adrian is a businessman who plays at being a gangster. His father was ruthless; Adrian is soft. Letting an old woman wander around Chicago diners without a full tactical squad? Taking in a stray stray-dog waitress out of romantic sentimentality? He made himself vulnerable.""
Giancarlo pulled a heavy satellite phone from his coat and dialed. He pressed speaker.
The phone rang twice before a voice answered. It wasn't loud, but the sheer, lethal vibration in Adrian Voss’s voice chilled the entire room.
""Giancarlo.""
""Good evening, Adrian,"" Giancarlo chuckled, blowing smoke toward the ceiling. ""I'm calling to see if you received my terms regarding the Calumet Shipping Terminals.""
""If you lay a single finger on my grandmother or Sophie,"" Adrian said, every syllable dripping with arctic venom, ""I will not just kill you. I will wipe every trace of your bloodline from this hemisphere. Your brothers, your bank accounts, your memory. You will cease to exist.""
""Spare me the theatrical monologue, boy!"" Giancarlo snapped, stepping over and grabbing my hair, yanking my head back violently. ""Sophie, say hello to your billionaire savior.""
I clenched my teeth, refusing to give Giancarlo the satisfaction of hearing me beg. ""Adrian! Don't give him anything! It’s an ambush at the docks, he’s planning to—""
Giancarlo backhanded me across the cheek. The blow knocked my head sideways, blood welling in the corner of my lip.
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Over the speaker, the line went dead silent. No yelling. No swearing. Just the sound of Adrian’s breathing turning into something ancient and terrifying.
""Calumet Terminal Four,"" Adrian whispered, his voice terrifyingly calm. ""I am coming alone with the signed deeds. Ten minutes.""
