Chapter 29 (Aura)

Light and shapes filter through the pillowcase covering my head as Ettore shoves me forward. I stumble, banging my shins against corners more than once. The pain is sharp, but I bite my lip to keep from crying out. I won't give him the satisfaction.

We reach an elevator, and I feel the familiar lurch in my stomach as we descend. Then suddenly, we're outside. The fresh air hits me like a shock to the system. It's the first time I've been outdoors since this whole ordeal began, and for a moment, I'm overwhelmed by the sensation.

But there's no time to savor it. Ettore hustles me down what feels like a sidewalk and into a waiting car. I'm shoved unceremoniously into the backseat, and we start moving.

As we drive, my mind drifts to Enzo. The look on his face when Ettore arrived... I could see how badly he wanted to lash out, to protect me. I stopped him because the timing wasn't right. We don't know all the variables yet, all the players involved. Acting rashly now could get us both killed.

But can Enzo hold it together? His protective instincts are strong, and I worry he might do something impulsive if pushed too far. We need to be smart about this, to play the long game.

The car ride is silent. I estimate it lasts about ten minutes before we come to a stop. Someone - Enzo, I think - helps me out gently. I hear the car drive away, which means Ettore is gone. Good riddance.

"I've got you," Enzo murmurs softly. "We'll get through this."

I nod, even though he can't see it under the pillowcase. "Enzo," I whisper urgently. "Don't fight them. No matter what. Do you understand? You have to control yourself."

There's a pause before he responds. "I... I can't promise that if they try to take you away again."

"Listen to me," I insist. "You have to. Promise me."

God, I want to kiss him. To reassure him that we'll be okay. But I know that would be irrational right now. We can't afford to let our guard down.

"I don't want your comfort right now," I tell him firmly. "I need you to keep your head. They might do terrible things to me in there. You have to stay calm, no matter what. Okay?"

Enzo's voice is strained when he replies. "We'll get through this together. I swear I'll protect you."

I nod again. "I trust you. Now, let's go. Lead the way."

Enzo takes my arm gently, guiding me forward. We walk down what feels like a concrete path, then stop. I hear a door open, and we step inside. The door closes behind us with a soft click.

The smell hits me immediately - raw meat and the low hum of refrigeration units. Are we in some kind of grocery store? Or maybe a bodega? I try to piece together clues as Enzo leads me through another room, then stops me.

"Giacomo," Enzo says, his voice tight. "We're here."

I hear the scrape of a chair being pushed back. "Well, well," a new voice says. It must be Giacomo. "Let's have a look at our guest. I can hardly remember what she looks like." He laughs, the sound cold and mirthless.

The pillowcase is pulled from my head, and I blink as my eyes adjust to the light. We're in what looks like a back office. A single fluorescent lamp casts harsh shadows across a cluttered desk piled high with books and papers. A small TV in the corner shows camera feeds of the exterior of the building.

And there, behind the desk, sits Giacomo. My stomach clenches as I recognize him from old family photos. This is the man responsible for my parents' deaths. Rage and disgust war inside me, but I keep my face carefully blank.

"Do you know why you're here, sweetheart?" Giacomo asks, leaning back in his chair.

I shake my head silently.

Giacomo frowns, looking at Enzo. "Ettore didn't tell her anything? Typical. That idiot can barely tie his own shoes most days." He turns his attention back to me. "We're going to take some beauty shots of you today."

My blood runs cold. "Beauty shots?"

Giacomo nods, grinning. "Gotta have good pictures for the online listings, you know? And it's best to get them before you're all broken in." He laughs loudly at his own joke.

I glance at Enzo out of the corner of my eye. His jaw is clenched tight, but he remains silent.

"Alright, let's get started," Giacomo says, standing up. "Enzo, untie her. We don't need the rope in here."

Enzo complies, his fingers brushing against my wrists as he unties the knots. The simple touch is oddly comforting.

Giacomo takes my arm, leading me out of the office and into a larger back room. It's filled with supplies and boxes - definitely some kind of deli or grocery store. His touch makes my skin crawl, but I force myself to stay calm. I need to play the part of the broken, obedient sex slave. At least for now.

We go through another room and down a flight of stairs to what must be the basement. There's a makeshift photo studio set up, complete with lights and a white backdrop. A photographer is adjusting his equipment while a woman rifles through a rack of dresses nearby.