Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
I’m still trying to get a breath of air in past all the pain when I’m hauled to my feet and dragged back into the hangar. Kentaro’s lifeless body is now lying in a puddle of blood that's slowly creeping over the ground.
Horror floods every inch of my mind and body, and I expect to be forced down to my knees so Augusto can kill me too, but instead, I’m left standing in front of the terrifying man who’s as big as a bear.
I can’t stop myself from looking down at Kentaro’s vacant eyes.
My lips part, and for a weak moment, I consider pleading for my life. I consider telling them I’m not Ryo, but a more terrifying thought settles like acid in my stomach.
There are much worse things they can do to me if they realize I’m a woman.
For the past decade, all I wanted was to be a normal girl. I wanted to wear pretty dresses and makeup, grow my hair long, and go on dates.
But as the group of dangerous men surrounds me, I realize that looking like a man is the best thing for me right now.
I have to keep up the act.
I’ve never fought anyone before, never mind a violent mafia boss, but knowing it’s expected of me, I lunge forward with a growl. As I swing my fist at Augusto’s face, his hand shoots up and stops me by grabbing hold of my forearm.
The man is easily twice my size, and as he takes a threatening step closer to me, his eyes lock with mine.
Seeing a promise of pain and a thirst for revenge in his green irises, I know I’m going to suffer a lot before they kill me.
I won’t get a quick death like Kentaro and Masaki.
His fist connects with my ribs, and once again, all the air is forced from my lungs as a searing pain seizes my entire chest.
I’m shoved down to the floor, and when I try to catch myself with my left arm, I’m reminded of my dislocated shoulder when it gives way beneath me and my entire torso throbs horribly.
“Fucking pathetic,” Augusto says as he looks at me with disgust. “Didn’t your father train you to fight?”
I refuse to answer the question and instead struggle back to my feet. My head spins with dizziness, and for a couple of seconds, it feels like I’m going to vomit, but then it eases.
Every breath is painful, but I force the air into my lungs.
Augusto holds a device out to me. “Unlock it and call your father.”
I stare at my phone, which I only use to call Masaki and my guards and play games on. I don’t have Father’s number and never contact him.
They’ll kill me if they realize I’m of no use to them.
The thought sends a fresh wave of fear through me, and I press my lips tightly together, refusing to speak.
The man who tackled me and dislocated my shoulder steps toward me and says, “Augusto, the fucker had his hands on my sister.” He shoots me a merciless glare. “I feel it’s only fair I get the first chance to make him talk.”
No. God, his sister must be Gianna. He probably thinks I wanted to hurt her at the club, instead of trying to help her.
Augusto nods at Gianna’s brother before tossing my phone at another man. “I’m going to make a couple of calls. Stay with Enzo, Raffaele.”
“Yes, boss.”
“Enzo,” Augusto says, then he waits for Gianna’s brother to meet his eyes. “Don’t kill him.”
Kuso.
As Augusto stalks toward the entrance, Enzo advances on me. Instinct has me swinging around and running for my life, but a moment later, Enzo’s much bigger body plows into my back, and I hit the ground so hard, I hiccup and searing pain engulfs me.
I twist my body and begin to hit and claw at Gianna’s brother.
I was trying to help her!
One blow after the other, his fist slams into my face, and mercifully, I pass out.
Chapter 6
Yuki
Lying on the cold, hard concrete, I try to get shallow breaths past the agonizing pain in my chest.
My padded shirt feels like it’s crushing my broken ribs to dust.
How long has it been?
Two days? Three?
Whenever I’m left alone, I try to find a way out of the hangar, but all the doors are locked, and there are no windows.
A while ago, I heard cars and muted voices, and soon after, the sound of the private jet’s engines. As I listened to the aircraft take off, hope poured into my heart.
Did they leave?
My hope is short-lived, though. The heavy doors of the hangar roll open, and I suppress a whimper and begin to struggle to climb to my feet. My left arm is useless, and my body is weak from the torture and not getting anything to eat. They’ve only given me two bottles of water, but luckily, I’ve had some privacy when they allow me to use the restroom.