Rapture & Ruin (Rapture & Ruin 1)

A growl slid from the shadows. “You must know something. You’re working for the U.S. Attorney’s Office, just like your father. I don’t believe that he has you following in his footsteps in total ignorance. Daddy would’ve told his princess how the world really works, what you need to get ahead in life.”

I peered at him, my eyes straining to see his features through the gloom. His scarred appearance had horrified me before, but I’d been woozy from the drugs, and he’d been snarling in my face. Now, I wished I could read him better. He used the shadows as a shield between us, protecting himself as much as they were meant to intimidate me.

“What do you expect to gain from all this?” I lifted my shoulders to indicate my bound state. “Even if I tell you what you want to hear, what will that accomplish? You said you won’t hurt me, and I think I believe you. But I can’t betray my father with lies that will destroy his character and reputation. I love him, and I won’t do that.”

Purpose firmed my resolve, and the terror that’d left a metallic tang on my tongue finally receded. Primal panic no longer clawed at my mind. I could reason my way out of this.

“You should be scared of me.” His voice went cold and flat again, just like it had before he’d surged into my personal space and told me he was a monster.

But he hadn’t touched me then, and I thought he was bluffing again now.

I hoped.

“Well, I’m not,” I said with more bravado than I felt. “I think you’re hurting. I think you’ve been through something awful, and it’s pushed you to this point. I can help you, Max.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, his muscles bulging and flexing as though resisting some physical strain. “You can help me by confessing your father’s sins. You want to know what I want out of all this? Why I risked kidnapping the mayor’s daughter? I want leverage. I want your father to know that he can’t fuck with my family ever again.”

His voice shook with rage and something darker. He had suffered because of my father’s actions. His family had been sent to prison, and he’d been forced to grow up without them. That didn’t make my dad a bad person, but Max wouldn’t see it that way.

“Listen, Max.” I intentionally used his name, and he flinched as though I’d struck him. “I can’t give you what you want. I don’t know who told you those outrageous lies about my father, but they’re not true. Just let me go home, and I won’t tell anyone about this.” He scoffed, but I continued on. “I’m serious. You haven’t hurt me, but I can tell that you have been hurt. You think you’re somehow defending your family by doing this, but I’ll defend my family, too. You have nothing to gain by keeping me here, and the longer you do, the greater the chance that my father will launch a manhunt to locate me.”

He was silent for several long seconds, his head cocked to the side as he considered me. “You really don’t know anything, do you?” he finally said, his voice heavy with some emotion I couldn’t quite identify. Regret? Despair?

“There’s nothing to know,” I replied evenly. “My father has nothing to do with the Bratva. I am sorry for whatever you’ve been through.” I meant every word. Max had terrorized me, but he’d clearly suffered through some terrible things if he’d been pushed to this mad scheme.

“Don’t pity me,” he barked. “You’re the one tied to a chair in my basement.”

As though I needed reminding.

“I won’t tell anyone about this,” I promised again, my voice clear and calm. I did pity him. It gave me no pleasure, but I felt sorry for this broken, scarred man. He was so desperate to defend his family that he believed my father was a villain. In his mind, it was the only way to vindicate and protect them.

“No, you won’t,” he agreed, his promise darker than my own. He stepped into the light, dropping to one knee as his powerful arms bracketed me once again. His big hands fisted around the metal chair at either side of me, knuckles white with strain. The overhead light cast craggy shadows beneath the scarred flesh around his eye. This time, I barely flinched when he snarled in my face. He couldn’t help that he’d been permanently scarred by some horrific injury. The mark of his pain wasn’t a threat to me.

“I won’t hurt you, but I have no problem hurting your father,” he seethed. “If you tell anyone about this, he will pay the price.” His eyes glinted with an almost fanatical light, and the fine lines around his mouth drew deep with strain. Max hated my father, and I fully believed that he wouldn’t hesitate to follow through on his malicious promise.