My grip on my glass tightened, but I didn’t utter a word. He downed the rest of his drink and stood. “I am leaving.”
He stormed out of the room, his temper flaring like a storm on the horizon. When he left, I leaned back and shut my eyes. Alessia wasn’t entirely useless. The Gallos, Marco, used her to get to her father.
The man worked at a bank where my enemy, Luigi, had once stashed something valuable. I wasn’t wrong about anyone, and needed to look into Elena.
A stripper on my lap pulled me back to the present as she ground against me. Her fingers danced across my chest, but my mind was elsewhere. She leaned in to kiss me, but I grabbed her throat, tightening my grip until she let out a small, labored whimper. Her wide eyes met mine, full of lust and fear. She didn’t know what I wanted, and truthfully, neither did I.
“On your knees,” I ordered, pushing her to her knees with a thud. She obeyed. But no matter what she did, it wasn’t enough. Nothing was. I ordered the two strippers to leave, and they scurried out.
I rescued Alessia’s father from the Gallos because I plannedto use him, and now was the right time to make the call. I pulled out my phone, ready to shift the game in my favor, but something stopped me.
A video feed lit up the screen. It was from the torture room. Alessia was on the floor, stripped down to just her bra and panties. Her chest rose and fell in shallow gasps, like even a breath of air was a battle she was losing. I realized I had left the room’s heating system activated, which prevented air circulation. She couldn’t breathe.
Grabbing my keys, I bolted out. Thirty minutes stood between us, but I had to make it in ten, otherwise she would run out of oxygen.
In less than fifteen minutes, I was in my room. I tossed my bike key and phone onto the bed and rushed to the torture chamber. My thumb pressed against the scanner, and the door unlocked with a mechanical click. I swung it open and stepped inside. The heat hit me on my face.
Alessia lay on the floor, drenched in sweat, her skin flushed a furious red. The searing air clawed at my lungs even in the few seconds I was inside.
I scooped her up into my arms and carried her out. Her head lolled against my chest, her body limp. She let out a labored breath. Each ragged inhale tore through the air like a desperate cry for mercy. I lay her on my bed, brushing her damp hair away from her face.
“Alessia.” She wasn’t moving. Her mouth parted, dragging in broken breaths like each one might be her last.
She was slipping away, fading. I knew this feeling too well. My eyes darted to the mask on the table. I grabbed it and pressed it over her nose, urging her to breathe. But she shook her head weakly, tears spilling down her cheeks.
“Alessia.”
Her lips trembled as they struggled to form words. “I…” Herfaint voice cracked. She pulled in a jagged breath. “I can’t brea—”
She didn’t finish. Her body went slack in an instant.
“You can.” My voice dropped into a growl as I held the mask firmly over her nose. “Breathe.” I leaned over her, my breath shallow as I mirrored hers, willing her lungs to obey. “Breathe.”
Her chest finally expanded in a deep, shuddering inhale, and I exhaled with her as if her life depended on mine. Her breathing stabilized.
A tear slid from her eye, and my fingers willingly moved to wipe it. Caressing her cheek, soothing her as her body relaxed, I removed the mask, knowing she had what she needed now.
She lay still, no longer fighting. I grabbed the blanket and covered her, letting her rest. She needed it, but I didn’t. I left her side and returned to the torture room.
The door closed behind me, locking with a click. This was my room, the place that reminded me I was dying. The chamber’s heat closed in, tightening its grip around my lungs. It didn’t take long before my breath faltered. My chest constricted, the air turning to fire in my throat.
She didn’t deserve this room; I did. I was the one rotting from the inside, the one death had already marked. I deserved every inch of this suffocating space. To be reminded that something as small as a sickness could bring me to my fucking knees, and no bullet, blade, or enemies ever could.
Chapter Fifteen
Alessia
I gasped awake as ifsomething had pulled me from the bottom of a river. My hand shot to my chest, trying to ease the tight pain under my ribs, but it didn’t help. The air was fresh now. It wasn’t burning its way through my lungs. It was clean. Still, I could remember the place where I was. The way my lungs screamed for oxygen and how I whispered for help, not knowing if anyone would ever hear me. I remembered the moments blurring together, life flashing in fragments behind my eyes. And when my body finally gave out, I knew, deep down, that I couldn’t make it.
The rest of my body felt like a discarded shell in someone else’s bed: Artur’s bed. I sat up slowly, my fingers gripping the sheets like they would anchor me to this world. I felt the phantom pain echoing down my windpipe, but the memory was worse than theache.
Although I could have told him everything, my fear that he would choose his family over me stopped me. He would kill me for daring to accuse Renat. Artur didn’t trust me, and he hated me. I needed to think first because I couldn’t lose Carina.
The room was quiet. Sunlight leaked through the curtains, painting thin stripes across the floor. My clothes lay on the edge of the bed. I slipped out of bed, my limbs stiff, and cold. Wearing the clothes felt like dragging guilt over my skin. I paused at the sight of a mask resting on the nightstand. The one Artur used to help me breathe.
I remembered his rough voice urging me to breathe. Then his finger brushed my cheek, gentle while everything else had been brutal. He saved me from the hell he left me in. So it meant he didn’t want me dead.
My fingers combed through my tangled hair as I left the room. I fixed myself so I wouldn’t look like I almost died and came back. The front door loomed ahead, but as I reached it, a voice stopped me. “Alessia?”