Chapter 167 FOR THE FIRST TIME…
~~RAINA.
My stomach growled then, a hollow reminder I hadn't eaten properly since yesterday morning.
The breakfast at home had gone untouched as I had no appetite. The cafeteria lunch also, I had barely picked at it as I couldn't stand anything.
But now, staring at the bread, hunger clawed at me. Yet the sight repulsed me, turning my gut. It smelled off, or maybe that was the lingering vomit.
There was no water added, just dry, unappetizing slices.
“My husband is going to kill you,” I muttered, shaking my head, the words more wish than threat.
He shrugged, pulling a cigar from his pocket and lighting it with a flick of a lighter. Smoke curled up, acrid and thick.
“I hope to kill you before then.”
Rage ignited in my chest, hot and fierce, cutting through the fog. I snatched a slice, crumpling it in my fist, and hurled it at him. It bounced off his chest.
“I dare you to do that now!”
His face darkened, the cigar dropping from his lips as he surged up.
In a blur, he grabbed my hair, yanking me to my feet. Pain exploded in my scalp, tears springing to my eyes.
“I have little patience, princess,” he snarled, his breath hot on my face.
“I do not intend to babysit a spoiled grown woman. We either make this easy for ourselves, or hard. It is your choice.”
The grip tightened, pulling strands loose. I winced, fear choking me. “S... sorry,” I sniffed, voice breaking.
He shoved me back onto the bed, hard enough that I bounced, then sank into his chair, picking up the cigar and relighting it. The smoke filled the room, making my eyes water.
“I need to puke again,” I gasped, clapping a hand over my mouth as another wave hit.
I bolted for the bathroom, slamming the door and twisting the lock. Heart racing, I leaned against it, breathing hard.
That grab when he'd yanked my hair had been my chance.
My fingers dove into my pocket, closing around the slim shape I'd swiped in the chaos. I had lifted his phone.
It was unlocked, thankfully with no password but just a home screen cluttered with apps.
Trembling, I opened contacts and went straight to dial. I punched in Luciano's number, the digits burned into my memory from countless calls and texts.
Come on, connect. My thumb hovered over the call, then pressed.
A crash from the room filled the space and footsteps pounded toward the door.
“I swear, I am going to kill you!” Marco growled, his voice muffled but furious.
The phone rang in my ear, each tone stretching into eternity. “Please, pick up, please…” I sobbed, sliding down the door, my knees to chest.
It connected. “Luciano!”
“Raina, baby!” His voice was urgent, and raw, like he'd been waiting for this call his whole life. Relief flooded me, my eyes squeezing shut as tears spilled.
The door rattled, banging the frame. Marco's shouts echoed with curses, threats, and fists pounding wood.
“I can't speak for long. He is going to get to me soon. Save me, please. Please,” cried, my voice hitching.
“Where are you? Talk to me.”
“No! I can't... I can't see my surroundings. The room is... is... no, we are in a storey building.,” Words tumbled out, frantic and jumbled.
“Calm down, baby, and tell…”
“I can't calm down! The door will break down any moment.”
“I am sorry. Is there anything that looks peculiar? A sign, a sound, or a smell?”
“God, no! Just…” Panic clawed higher.
“You will die by my hands today!’' Marco's roar penetrated the door, desperate and wild.
I burst into fresh tears, sobbing into the phone.
“I will find you,” Luciano vowed, his voice fierce and steady. I breathed out, just a second of hope.
“Please…”
“I swear, I will find you. Just stay…”
The door burst inward with a crack, and the wood splintered. I screamed as Marco barreled in, his eyes wild, snatching the phone from my grip. “Please!’' I cried, lunging for it.
But he didn't listen.
He ended the call with a thumb swipe, then dragged me out by my hair, his nails digging into my scalp. Pain seared, and he flung me to the floor, my shoulder hitting hard.
Before I could scramble up, his boot connected with my side sharply, and brutally. The force that knocked the air from my lungs and my vision whited out, life flashing in bursts of Luciano's smile, and the life we'd just started building.
“You fucking whore of a cunt!’' he spat, kicking again, this time glancing off my ribs.
Agony bloomed, hot and deep, but I curled up, protecting my head.
Another blow landed on my thigh, bruising deeply. He loomed over me, face contorted in rage, breath coming in heavy pants.
I gasped for air, my body shaking, tears streaming. The room spun, drugs and pain mixing into a nauseating blur.
He'd kill me now, I knew it. His patience was gone, and his fury was unleashed.
But Luciano had heard me. He knew I was alive, in a building somewhere. It wasn't over. Not yet.
Marco stepped back, his chest heaving, wiping sweat from his brow. He grabbed the phone from the floor, checking it with a curse.
“You think that changes anything?” he snarled, but there was an edge of uncertainty now.
I didn't answer, just lay there, my breathing shallow, and waiting for the next hit.
Escape seemed farther than ever, but that call... it was a lifeline.
Luciano would tear the city apart to find me. And when he did, Marco and Talia would pay. Slowly. Painfully.
For the first time, I knew and understood why people kill.
For the first time, I wished I could kill a person. No, this monster.
The morning dragged on after that with Marco tying me up again, tighter this time, muttering threats under his breath.
The nausea ebbed slightly, hunger gnawing sharper, but I couldn't ignore the pain tearing at me in my stomach.