Page 73 of Dark Seduction
The words hit hard and I clench my jaw, holding back the storm of emotions threatening to break free. Without a word, I turn and leave the room, the heavy door closing behind me with a thud.
Once in the hallway, I pull out my phone again, expecting a strategic update from Luk or one of the others. Instead, my heart drops as I stare at what's displayed on the screen, an image that sends a cold wave of dread through me.
It's Dalia, bound to a chair, her eyes wide with fear.
Accompanying the image is a message from an unknown number, the words chillingly succinct.
Come now and come alone.
Whoever is behind this has just made the biggest mistake of their life. They've taken what's mine, and for that, they will pay.
Chapter 32
Dalia
My head is pounding like it’s got its own heartbeat as I slowly come to.
Blinking open my eyes, I'm greeted with pitch-black darkness. I let out a scream, but it sounds muffled, like I’m buried under layers of something thick.
“What the hell is going on? Where am I?” I ask out loud to no one.
I try to shift, to sit up, but I quickly realize I can’t move much—I'm tied down. Panic flares up inside me, wild and uncontrollable. I feel like a trapped animal in a cage. I’m starkly aware there’s no sign of anyone else around.
I force myself to take a few deep breaths—I have to keep it together for the baby. But staying calm is a monstrous task when you haven’t got the first clue about where you are or what’s happening.
The last thing I remember before everything went black was the sound of a gunshot and Alexei dropping to the ground. Is this all my fault? Did I put him in the line of fire by going to him forhelp?
I strain my ears for any sound that might give me a clue as to where I’m at. But all I hear is my own ragged breathing and the echo of my heart beating fiercely in the dark lonely silence.
There's something smothering my mouth, it feels like a rag, but I can't be sure. I bite down on it, tugging it into my mouth, chewing as ferociously as I can manage. It's a desperate move, but to my immense relief, the fabric starts to give way under the assault of my teeth, and I manage to rip it in half.
As soon as my mouth is free, I let out the loudest, most piercing scream I can muster. But I don’t even get to enjoy a full second of rebellion. Almost immediately, there's a rumbling sound that spikes my adrenaline—it's the heavy, unmistakable thud of someone charging across the room.
Before I can react further, a huge hand clamps down over my mouth, silencing me. The smell of vodka hits me like a wave, almost choking me with its potency.
Then, a voice, thick with a heavy Russian accent and dripping with menace, growls right by my ear, "Shut the hell up, girl, if you know what's good for you."
The threat sends a chill down my spine, but it also lights a fire in me. I bite down hard on the hand over my mouth, ready to fight back with everything I’ve got.
The man lets out a yowl of pain as my teeth sink into his flesh, but his reaction is swift and brutal—a hard smack across my face that sends stars exploding across my vision. Dazed, I blink rapidly, struggling to focus as he roughly yanks the cover off my head.
My eyes adjust to reveal a grim scene. I’m in a crummy, cheap motel room with the curtains drawn tight. A silent TV flickers ghostly images. I’m tied to a chair, and my company is a hulking man dressed in all black, his head shaved clean. The most distinct feature about him isn’t his menacing presence but the silver pistol tucked into his belt—the very same one that smashed into my forehead.
As soon as my mouth is free, I take a deep breath to scream again, but he’s faster. He grabs the cloth I’d been gagged with and stuffs it back into my mouth, silencing me once more. His actions are rough and practiced, like he's done this sort of thing before.
I glare at him, fury and defiance burning through the haze of pain. Despite the fear gnawing at my insides, my rebellious spirit isn’t quite snuffed out. If looks could kill, the glare I'm leveling at him would have him on the floor.
I might be tied up and gagged but I'm not beaten yet. No way I’m letting this guy think he’s got the upper hand for even a second.
He inspects his hand where I bit him, noticing the blood I drew. Muttering curses in Russian that would probably make my grandma blush, he stomps off to the bathroom. He’s so massive that every step he takes makes the tacky motel art on the walls shudder.
After a few moments, he comes back, hands washed but fury still on his face. I’m just gearing up to spit out the cloth he jammed back into my mouth when he pulls out that silver pistol again and points it straight at me.
The cold metal gleams under the flickering dim light of the motel room, and his next words chill me more than the weapon itself.
"You’re going to keep that in your mouth," he growls, "unless you want to end up like poor Alexei."
The threat hangs heavy in the air but I’m not about to let him see me sweat. Locked in a stare down with him, I force my eyes to stay steely and defiant.