Chapter 12: 12

Despite the numbness that had already engulfed her whole body, she felt her stomach twist at the horrible words coming out from Nicole's mouth, and the scary part was knowing Nicole meant what she said. Her whole body was soon shaking violently again from pure terror.

She tried to crawl back, pressing herself against the wall like she could sink into it, merge into it, disappear inside it, but there was nowhere left to go.

Nicole’s hand shot out and grabbed her by the arm, digging her nails deep inside Lucy's skin as she yanked her up from the floor with brutal force.

Lucy gave a weak, broken cry. "Please! Please- don't-"

But Nicole ignored her.

She dragged the poor girl across the room with an iron-like grip. Lucy's bare feel scraped against the floor, and every step her tormentor took while dragging her that way sent sharp stabs of pain through her ribs. Despite her pleas, Nicole didn't slow down.

"You think you can cry your way out of this?" Nicole spat, pulling her harder. "You think anybody here cares about your tears? You're nothing. You’re utterly useless and you should've been dead already. I have no idea why Blaze won't kill you, but I'll do the job for him and I'm pretty sure he's going to thank me for it."

Lucy whimpered, trying to twist free as the reality of her situation dawned on her. But she was too weak to fight back. Her strength was gone.

Her body was too weak, too starved and in one hell of pain. All she could do was stumble after her captor, clenching her teeth through the endless waves of agony zapping through her battered body.

Knowing she couldn't fight, she tried her last resort, which was screaming for help.

"Help! Somebody, help me..."

But even the sound was pitiful, thin, barely carrying past the doorway. It was the cry of someone who was almost gone.

Nicole laughed again at her attempt to call for help. "Go ahead. Scream. No one's coming. No one gives a fuck about you here."

Then she continued dragging Lucy. It didn't take long before they were standing in front of the open door. Lucy's heart sank foe the umpteenth time when she saw the torture room. Nicole didn't slow down now. She yanked Lucy across the hall and shoved her towards the open door.

Lucy dug her heels into the floor, her weak body trying to resist with the last ounce of strength she had left.

"No! Please! Don't take me in there! Please, I'll do anything!"

Nicole's face twisted with anger. She shoved Lucy hard, forcing her forward.

"Shut the fuck up and walk!"

Lucy stumbled, almost falling.

Her ribs exploded in another pain and this time it was so painful it left her light-headed for a few seconds. She knew she was going to pass out if this continued. She tried to cling to the door frame, but it was like a drowning man clutching at straws. Nicole's strength ripped her away.

And then, with one final shove, Nicole pushed her into the room and slammed the door behind them.

Then breathing heavily, she glared down and snarled at her. "Any last words, Lucy?"

The night was quiet, but there was no trace of peace in it. The silence carried weight. It was heavy and utterly suffocating. Domenico was sitting on the wide stone balcony, his chair pulled slightly back from the table.

A half-empty bottle of scotch was sitting in front of him and the glass in his hand barely touched his lips before he lowered it again. He wasn't drinking to savor. He was drinking to forget. But it was impossible to forget.

He had tried to forget by looking at the city stretched out below him, with the endless lights blinking against the dark. Normally, he liked the view. It was power. And it was his kingdom.

But tonight it looked hollow, and he didn't feel the satisfaction of knowing that it belonged to him. Not anymore. He swirled the liquor in the glass, staring at it instead of the skyline.

And that's when the door behind him. A couple of heavy boot sounds followed and then a pause. Then Locke's voice came through.

"You're out here alone?" Dom didn't answer. He just tilted his glass and took a slow swallow.

Locke pulled out a chair and sat down across from him. Without asking, he reached for the bottle and poured himself a drink, before leaning back. For a moment, they both drank in silence. Then Locke set his glass down and cleared his throat.

"I was coming to brief you on the upcoming meetings. We've got the shipping contracts, the South harbor deal, and that call with the Russian investors. They're all pressing, and-"

Dom cut him off with a wave of his hand. "Not tonight."

Locke blinked. "Not tonight?"

"I don't want to hear any of that right now," Dom said. His voice was deep, tired, but there was still in it. "I want to rest,"

Locke frowned, studying him. "That's odd."

"Why?"

Locked leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "You've never brushed aside business talk. Not once. Even when you're tired, even when you're half bleeding out, the most you've ever done was push it off a few hours. But never... like this."

His gaze narrowed as he gulped a copilot amount of the drink and asked. "What's going on with you, Dom?"

The silence that followed was almost deafening. And that's when Locke glanced at the glass in his boss's hand, then at the bottle. His brows furrowed in shock. "You've gone far with the drink tonight."

Dom gave a low chuckle that had no humor in it. "You surprised?"

His voice sharpened. "Yeah. I am. What the hell's really going on?"

Dom set his glass down hard on the table. Then he turned towards Locke, noting the vague outline of his profile. "It's the girl," he said.

"What girl?"

"Lucy, right?" His voice was rough. "The maid. The one at the mansion."

Locke sat back, shocked at what he was hearing. He studied Dom for a long moment before speaking.

"You're telling me... all this is about her?"

Dom's jaw tightened. He leaned forward, gripping the edge of the table with both hands. "I'm not happy with how she's being treated."

That's when he remembered it all.

She'd looked shaky, wounded, terrified. She could barely stand in front of him. She must have even thought that if she breathed wrong, someone would kill her. He shook his head, and then his jaw muscles flexed.

"That girl needs a doctor. She needs care. And I don't give a fuck if my brother says she's not going anywhere. I won't stand by and let her be destroyed like that."

Locke stared at him, stunned. He had worked with Domenico Stone for nearly a decade now. He had seen him order executions without blinking, had seen him handle blood and betrayal like a man cutting through paper. Compassion was not in Dom's vocabulary. But this... was happening.

"I never thought I'd hear you say that," a shocked Locke said slowly.

Dom's eyes narrowed. "Say what?"

"Say you care about a girl like that. A maid. Just some broken thing in Blaze's house."

"She's not just something." Dom's voice dropped to a low, dangerous octave. "Don't talk about her like that."

Locke held up his hands. "Alright. Fine. But you have to think, Don. This could cause a war between you and Blaze. Do you really want to-"

"Don't you dare question my authority." Dom growled, causing Locke to straighten immediately. Then in a soft tone, he said. "I wasn't questioning. I was just-"

He didn't let his right-hand man finish. "I said enough. I want her out. And I want her to see a doctor. That's if Blaze hasn't killed her yet. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, boss." Dom leaned back, breathing slowly.

Then he waved his hand. "Send some men. Immediately."

Locke pulled out his phone without another word and was soon dishing out orders. "Yeah. Get two cars ready. Take six men. You're going to the mansion. Find the girl. Her name's Lucy. Bring her out. If she's alive, she goes straight to a hospital. Clear?"

A voice answered and then Locke hung up. Dom nodded, pouring himself another drink. He was as steady as they come but his mind was far away. He remembered her face. She remembered how badly her lips trembled when she tried to speak.

There was just something about her that deemed her too fragile and soft for the world she was in. And he knew with certainty that if he didn't get her out, she was going to die.

He was right, because when the six men arrived at the mansion that night, looking for Lucy, Nicole let out a laugh and said.

"Lucy? That bitch must be dead by now."

"What do you mean by that?" One of them asked carefully.

"Come with me, I'll show you." The men exchanged glances but followed.

She led them to the torture room where she slid the key into the lock and turned it with a click. The hinges creaked as she pushed it open.

A damp, metallic smell was what hit them first. And they saw her. A girl lying in a pool of blood on the floor, lifeless. Her hair was matted and soaked in blood too.

Nicole smirked. "There she is. I'm sorry if you wanted her alive. It might be too late for that."