Chapter 77: Chapter: 77

ANDREA

“No! God! No, why are you doing this? Please…please leave them alone,” I cried.

“Shut the fuck up,cagna! Do as I say before I make them blow out your friends' brains right fucking now,” he spat low. Not wanting me to draw attention to us. I blink back the tears in my eyes, my chest tight with dread.

“No, no, please. I will do whatever you want. Please don't hurt them,” I begged, my eyes wild with panic.

“You're coming with me right now. If you so much as sneezed or raised any kind of suspicion,n they'll die,” he promised, and I have no doubt that he would go through with it. I swallow hard. His brown eyes were remorseless.

“I promise I will do whatever you want, just let them be, please.” My eyes stared into Beth's eyes, who was crying so hard her small shoulders were shaking, regretful of the danger I brought into their lives.

“I'm so sorry, Beth. Forgive me for bringing my problems to your door, tell Saul I'm fucking sorry for everything,” I choked out, my voice hoarser with unshed tears. She shakes her head hysterically.

“No, no. Don't say that, Andrea, please…It wasn't your…”

“Shut the fuck up! Both of you, I don't fucking have time for your dramas. You want to cry? I'll fucking give you something to cry over if you don't shut the hell up,” my captor snarled, cutting off Beth's crying voice.

He quickly rattled off some orders over video chat to the other thugs. Beth's teary, pale face was the last thing I saw before he ended the call.

“Put this on your face quickly, " he handed me a pair of black sunglasses.

“You will stand up nice and slow. Smile at me like I am your lover and move your damn ass,” he whispered low.

Smiling at me sweetly while he tucked my hair behind my ear with his unoccupied hand—like we really were lovers who are madly in love with each other and traveling together on a romantic getaway—while he jabs the gun even more painful under my ribs than before.

Sweat rolled down my body as I quickly tried to don the black glasses. It took me a few tries because of my trembling before I finally got it right. I wanted to scream, cry. I beg for help, run as fast as my legs could carry me, but I would only be putting Beth and her husband's lives in danger, and also exhaust myself in the process.

Beth had almost said this wasn't my fault, but she was wrong; this was entirely my fault. I should have known Nicklaus wouldn't give up easily; the man is very dangerous and relentless.

Later, much later, when I wasn't freaking the hell out about whether I survived that long.

I'm going to question where and how I went wrong. I thought I had been smart, I thought I had taken every necessary precaution, but it seems it wasn't enough. I had obviously failed.

The heavy weight of the gun in my stomach and the voice of the gunman snatched me out of my thoughts.

“Smile!”

I tried smiling at my captor, like he wanted, but my lips wobbled. I'm not sure I pulled it off. My lips were shaking so bad, I'm sure the fake smile would probably freak someone the hell out.

It was a miracle nobody noticed or suspected anything. He maneuvered me to stand up with him without giving away anything.

He hugged me to his side, which was the only reason my weak legs didn't give out under me—as we walked away from the departure lounge, while he carries my handbag on his shoulder which might seem cute and all to others—giving the illusion of a man who is so much in love and didn't mind holding his girlfriend bag like other guys do. Like carrying a woman's bag would emasculate them.

Whenever people, travelers/airport staff, and those who have come to see their loved ones off—unfamiliar faces glanced at us, some smiled at us with admiration, while others stared uninterested as they went about their business.

None of them were suspicious of the cute, adorable lovers or that the man was holding me at gunpoint, kidnapping me to God only knows where.

When the bathroom came into view, he checked left and right before pushing me inside the women's bathroom and into an empty stall.

My insides squeezed with fear when he pointed the gun at me, he threw a bag at me, a bag I should have noticed him carrying, both hadn't due to my panic, I don't even know where my own luggage is.

“Here, quickly put this on and apply that shit you women like so much, you look dreadful,” he ordered, harshly waving the gun in my face, which made me flinch.

I was terrified of him accidentally pulling the trigger and shooting me before I found out why I was being kidnapped. Why he needed me to apply makeup was beyond me.

Normally, kidnappers don't care if their hostages have makeup on or not. But I didn't say shit.

Inside the bag were a black bob wig and a black dress. He wanted me to change from my skinny jeans and shirt to a dress, but why? I didn't have the courage to ask why. I went to close the stall door so I could change without his evil eyes staring at me.

“You will leave the door open while you dress. You have two minutes. If you aren’t dressed by the time it's over, I will fucking dress you myself.”

Bile rose fast in my throat as tears welled up in my eyes. But I quickly stripped, and I made damn sure he didn't get a glimpse more than I wasn't able to cover.

I stubbornly refused to give him my back; it was swift and fast. First, I took off my shirt and quickly slipped into the black dress. Only after that did I remove my jeans.

He stretched out his hands, smiling at me sleazily, licking his lips, as I handed him the clothes I had just taken off, and repulsed with that look in his small, beady eyes. He waved his gun at me.

“Clean up and apply some makeup.” I gulped nervously and pointed at my bag still on his shoulder.

“I need my bag,” I whispered. He threw the bag at me. I opened it, quickly cleaned my face with the wipes in my bag, and powdered it. I had barely zipped up the bag when he yanked it out of my hand.

He ushered me out of the ladies' room, hugging me tight to his body, much like before. That fear of being shot made tears and sweat trickle down my face and body like I was stuck in the sauna. But more importantly, I was afraid of where he was taking me and seeing Nicklaus.

When I mistakenly glanced behind, my kidnapper dug his gun into me hard.

“Keep your eyes in the front bitch.”

Two other men followed, chatting and laughing casually, each carrying a small traveling bag.

Somehow, I get the sense that they were all in this. It's the way they carry themselves and watch all around with dangerous guarded eyes. I couldn't control my trembling or the tears that kept falling.

Though I've never seen these men, I know who sent them. This must be Nicklaus doing it, I mean, who else did I know who has the means and the motive to chase me all the way to Paris? Only him!

How dangerous is his secret that he had to go through all this trouble just to apprehend me? Nicklaus either wanted to kill me for finding out his well-hidden secret or wanted to punish me for reneging on our contract.

Maybe it was both. Maybe he would first punish me for running away, then kill me!

I didn't realize I was being led to a different part of the airport rather than out of it until I saw the small private plane in front of us. The steps were already laid out for us. I was tugged harshly when I didn't walk fast enough for my kidnapper.

Inside, four other men leer at us as I was dragged in. Making them a total of seven, all dangerous men, the menacing vibes I sense from them made me cautious of making eye contact with any of them.

These men were cold-blooded killers; if I refused to cooperate with them, they would kill Beth.

The plane was not as luxurious as Nicklaus's but still impressive. I wanted the hell out of it. My seat was at the back, and the gunman was seated beside me.

They spoke in Italian, which to me is the same as French in the sense that I didn't understand much. Except for a few curse words, I knew absolutely nothing.

It was like we were the ones the pilot was waiting for, because not thirty minutes later, we were flying. My eyes were fixed on the robust men as they spoke in quick Italian; the language was beautiful, but I suspect they were probably discussing my fate. Though they completely ignored me.

That was until I sensed movement on my right and turned just in time to see the needle, a second too late, being stabbed into my arm.

I gasped and tried to move back, but there was nowhere to go, and a few seconds later, I didn't care as my body slumped and I slipped into deep oblivion.