Chapter 43

ALINA

“If at first you don’t succeed, try again.”

Yeah.

Right.

That was the motivational garbage I clung to like a lifeline—despite the thunderous, very persistent voice in my head screaming,

You’re screwed.

No!

Think positive, right?

Maybe this time… maybe this time I’d actually make it out of here in one piece.

Or at least with most of my limbs still attached.

I swung my leg over the balcony railing, hands trembling as they gripped the edge.

The ledge was slick with dew, the night colder, meaner. My fingers kept slipping no matter how tightly I clung. My heart pounded against my ribs, each beat a warning.

Last time, I’d found the foothold easily. This time, it was gone—crumbled?

Shifted, I didn’t know. I reached for it anyway.

My foot slid.

My balance tipped.

And I fell.

The landing knocked the wind clean out of me. I hit the ground hard, jarring every bone in my body.

A sharp stone tore into my palm, warm blood rising instantly.

My shoulder burned where it had slammed into the dirt, and a deep scrape lit fire along my shin.

I curled in on myself for half a second, breath coming in gasps.

No time.

I forced my aching limbs to move, shoving myself upright. My legs felt like rubber, unsteady beneath me, but I didn’t stop.

I couldn’t afford to.

I glanced around, breath ragged, pulse hammering in my ears, scanning the shadows for any sign I was being watched.

Nothing.

Seriously?

You’d think after my last failed escape attempt, Mr. Big, Bad Mafia Boss would’ve doubled the guards or, I don’t know, installed a tripwire or two.

But nope.

I guess he figured little old me had learned her lesson.

Ha. Take that, Alexander.

This is me not learning a damn thing.

This is me escaping—again.

I shoved forward, feet crunching softly against the earth as I bolted toward the woods behind the house. The only place I might actually disappear.

My muscles screamed as I ran, every step burning, but I couldn’t afford to slow down.

Come on, Alina. Move.

Now’s not the time to fall apart.

Not when freedom’s right there, just a few yards away.

But then—shouting.

“There she is! Grab her!”

The words cracked through the night like a whip, rough voices tearing apart the silence, sharp and sudden as gunfire.

No. No. No.

My stomach plummeted. Ice spread through my veins.

They’d seen me.

My legs moved before my mind could catch up, lungs burning, feet slipping over dirt and roots as the forest came alive with the sound of pursuit.

I risked a glance over my shoulder.

Shit.

Three guards.

Fast.

Focused.

And gaining ground.

Panic clawed at my throat, but I forced it down.

No time for fear.

No time for stupid tears or second guesses.

Eyes forward.

On the trees.

On the darkness.

On escape.

Almost there. Just a little more—

Run like hell, Alina.

Because if they catch you, you won’t get another shot.

I was so close when, out of nowhere, a rough hand grabbed my arm, yanking me back.

I screamed, twisting and fighting, but it was no use. Another set of hands grabbed me, pulling me down and pinning me to the cold earth.

My arms were wrenched behind me with brutal force, and a heavy weight crashed down on my back, pinning me to the ground.

A sharp, desperate scream tore from my throat—it was the same arm I hurt when I fell. Pain exploded through the injury, raw and unforgiving.

I kicked and thrashed wildly, but it was no use; my struggles only served to scrape my skin raw against the rough earth. My breath came in short, panicked gasps, and hot tears stung my eyes as they streamed down my cheeks, mixing with the dirt and grime.

"Let me go!" I screamed, my voice hoarse with desperation.

"Please, let me go!"

The weight on my back shifted, and a rough hand gripped my hair, yanking my head back so I was forced to look up at my captor.

His eyes were cold and unyielding, a stark contrast to the chaos raging inside me.

"Shut up," he snarled, his voice like thunder.

"You're not going anywhere."

Behind us, the sound of crashing boots through the underbrush grew louder, accompanied by sharp shouts that echoed through the trees.

They were closing in, and fast.

My heart pounded in my chest like a drum, each beat a desperate plea for escape.

The grip on my arms loosened just enough for my captor to drag me to my feet.

My knees buckled beneath me, and I stumbled, my body trembling with exertion and fear. I turned my face toward him, my voice shaking but urgent.

"Wait—just listen," I gasped, desperation bleeding into every word.

"Let me go now, and I'll make it worth your while. Anything you want—I swear it, hell, even my soul if that's what you're after. Just… please."

My chest heaved as I met his eyes, wide and glassy with fear, but defiant.

"You don't have to be part of this," I whispered.

"You still have a choice. Do something good, something selfless, before it's too late."

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of hesitation in his eyes.

Hope surged within me, a desperate, burning ember in the face of imminent doom.

His grip faltered for a breath—just a fraction—before his lips curled into a crooked, bitter smile.

“Good?” he echoed, voice low and laced with mockery.

“Sweetheart, the last good thing I did was leave a tip—after rearranging a man’s face.”

He leaned in, his breath brushing my cheek.

“Selfless isn’t exactly in the job description.”

I swallowed hard, forcing the tremble out of my voice as I met his gaze.

“Then maybe it’s time you rewrote the damn job description,” I shot back, breathless.

“You think this life makes you untouchable, but one day you’re going to wake up and realize you sold every piece of your soul—and for what? A paycheck? A pat on the head?”

I leaned in, eyes blazing.

“Let me go. Prove there’s still something human left in you.”

Suddenly his cold hand gripped my chin, forcing me to look up at him.

His nails dug into my skin, cruel and unyielding. I winced, trying to pull away, but his grip only tightened, holding me in place like a vice.

He let out a slow, mocking laugh—quiet enough to be cruel, loud enough to chill.

“Human?” he echoed, tilting his head like she’d just told him a joke.

“That’s adorable.”

His fingers curled tighter around her arm, his grin widening—cold and venomous.

“You think batting those pretty little eyes and whispering sweet ideals is gonna dig up some buried conscience?” He leaned in, voice a low snarl.

“Newsflash, sweetheart—I sold whatever scraps of a soul I had left a long time ago… and I got a damn good deal.”

A beat passed.

His smile twisted, cruel and effortless.

"Now?” he repeated, a twisted grin curling at his lips, voice low and trembling with barely restrained fury. His grip on my arm turned bruising.

“Be good and fucking move… before I forget how much I like your pretty little face.”

“Please...” I barely started to speak before his hand shot out—quick and merciless.

Crack.

Pain exploded across my cheek, sharp and searing like fire.

My head jerked to the side, a strangled cry stuck in my throat. For a moment, everything around me froze—the woods, the rustling leaves, even the air itself.

He leaned in close, his breath hot and rough against my ear, his voice grinding like gravel scraping over broken glass.

"Please...seriously?" he whispered.

"Sorry, but you’re bargaining with the wrong fking person..now let's go."

With a sudden, violent shove, he pushed me forward, sending me stumbling toward the approaching guards.

I caught a glimpse of their stern faces, their weapons raised and ready, before a blindfold was roughly thrown over my eyes, plunging me into darkness.

My heart hammered in my chest as I was roughly handled, pushed and pulled in different directions.

I could hear the guards barking orders, their voices harsh and unyielding. I was helpless, a pawn in their game, and the reality of my situation sent a wave of nausea crashing over me.