Chapter 7 The Abduction
We changed cars halfway, stopping in an abandoned warehouse where two other cars and some men stood as though they were waiting for us.
The three men stepped down from the car leaving me alone, and I silently waited, making sure they weren’t looking at me before I pushed the door open just a crack.
Pleased to find that it was unlocked, I pushed the door farther and used the opportunity to break away from them.
I didn’t care if it was stupid or about the possibility that he could shoot me for behind. I just pushed my feet to move fast.
But he was quicker, he grabbed the back of my neck then tugged me backward, my legs staggering against the ground.
“No!” I screamed, tears blurring my eyes.
He dragged me back to the others and my heels cracked against marble with every stumbling step.
My gown snagged on stone corners and tore, but he didn't slow down.
"Let me go!" I shouted, twisting, driving my fists into his back. "Do you hear me? Put me down, you arrogant bastard!"
My knuckles connected again and again, but he carried on as if my fury was merely an inconvenience.
He stopped beside a black Maserati, and only then did I see the dark-haired man already in the driver's seat, his expression blank as death.
The one who’d originally driven us here was standing with the other men, their arms crossed.
With one hand Giovanni yanked the door open. With the other, he shoved me inside.
My body hit the leather seat hard enough to knock the breath from my lungs and before I could scramble out, he leaned down, one hand braced on the frame, caging me in with his shadow.
Steel-gray eyes cut into mine, colder than any weapon.
"You're behaving like a child," he said, voice low and ruthless. "Screaming, hitting, do you think any of it matters? Do you think it changes anything?"
His mouth curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "All it does is make me wonder how long it will take before you learn."
Heat exploded through my chest. "Learn? You stormed into my wedding like a lunatic, shot people like it's nothing, and dragged me into your car like some trophy and you dare talk to me about learning?"
He didn't flinch.
Instead, his gaze swept over my torn dress, and my trembling hands, as though cataloging every detail, memorizing my unraveling.
When his eyes returned to mine, they were unreadable. "You really don't understand, do you?"
I froze, pulse hammering. "Understand what?"
He straightened slowly, his shadow pulling away. "Why you're here and why I took you."
Confusion warred with fury in my chest. My lips parted, but no words came.
Because he was right. I didn't know.
I'd seen him before, at charity galas and at funerals but always from a distance. It was always just his back disappearing into crowds, or his profile across a room.
We had never spoken, nor did I ever care to know more about him. And now here I was, stolen from my home, and trapped in his car.
The door slammed shut behind him as he slid in beside me.
“Drive, Enzo.” He said gruffly.
I shoved at his chest. "You can't just take me like this! Do you understand what you've done? You've started a war!"
He caught my wrist mid-strike, his grip like iron. "The war started long before you put on that dress. Today was only a reminder."
I twisted against his hold, cursing under my breath, and my nails dug into his sleeve. “You’re sick!” I exploded but he didn’t respond.
For a heartbeat, only the hum of the idling engine and my ragged breathing echoed.
Then his mouth curved. "You'll learn soon enough. Until then, sit quietly and save your fire for when it matters."
His dismissal cut deeper than a blade. I turned to the window, fury bubbling under my skin. The car began to move, pulling me away from everything I’d ever known.
But I couldn’t just let him have the final word.
Just as the car hit a lonely stretch of road, desperation seized my chest. I lunged for the handle but his hand snapped over mine.
He bent close, his mouth grazing my ear, "Do that again, and I'll break those perfect legs. I'll carry you everywhere myself. Cage you where no one will ever touch you."
“You’re a monster!” I spat, twisting toward him. My heart hammered, but I refused to let him see my fear. “I’ll throw myself out if I have to. I’d rather bleed out on the asphalt than sit here and let you decide my life like you own it.”
His hand moved, grabbing my jaw in a painful grip, unyielding, forcing me to meet the void in his eyes.
“You think death scares me?” His voice was low. "You think hurling yourself onto the road will free you?" He leaned closer, his breath hot against my face.
"No, Arya. You'll live. You'll breathe. Because your suffering means more to me alive than dead." He said with a wicked curve to his lips.
The cruelty in his tone froze everything inside me. He released me suddenly, leaning back with a calmness more terrifying than his grip.
“You’re reckless.” He turned his gaze to the window, as if bored by me. “But you’ll learn.”
My nails dug into my palms until I felt the sting. “Learn what? That I’m some possession you can drag around?”
His smirk returned and he leaned in, closing the space between us until I could feel the heat of his breath
“No,” he murmured. “You’ll learn that you don’t belong to yourself anymore, every breath you take, every thought you dare to think, I can strip it from you in a heartbeat.”
His fingers brushed along my jaw, before gripping it hard enough to make my bones ache.
“You think you’re a prize? A possession?” His eyes burned into mine,. “You’re worse than that. You’re mine, Arya. And the sooner you understand that, the less it will hurt when I break you into exactly what I want.”
The air in the car felt suffocating, my lungs refusing to work
He released me with a flick. "Now sit still, before I remind you just how creative I get when I'm disobeyed."
He turned away to the window again. effectively ending the conversation and I pressed myself against the door, as far from him as possible,
My wedding dress felt like chains wrapped around me, any hope I had for freedom now was completely dashed.
And the man who'd stolen it sat beside me, untouchable as death itself.