“Dead,” Andreas answers. Dad’s face grows pale. As pale as Andreas’. It’s understandable because of who Vlad is.
Vlad’s death means that contract of his no longer exists. No thirty million to buy me.
Dad gazes back in disbelief. “Damn it, damn it to hell.”
“You go. I’ll keep them occupied to give you a head start,” Andreas promises.
Dad seethes, grabs me with one hand and his briefcase with the other. Without another word, we leave through the side other door leading out to a narrow tunnel.
As he pulls me along, I know Vlad’s death means nothing. All this man has done is sell me from one man to the next.
He’ll do it again.
He’s got his back against the wall and greed running through his veins. It didn’t escape me that Dad completely snubbed Andreas’ offer to stay behind while we escape. Without so much as a thank-you.
Dad rushes down the tunnel, pulling me along. He’s using his bad arm now, which is just as strong as his good one.
When we get to a set of stairs leading up to an even darker tunnel, I try to wrench my hand free of his grasp.
“Let go of me!” I yell, but he takes pleasure in squeezing my hand until it feels like it’s about to break. I scream so loud the sound seems to be pouring from my soul.
He’s hurting me just like that day back in his office. I was so foolish to ever consider that Massimo and Giacomo were forcing him to do anything. They weren’t. That was the first time he showed me his true self, but I failed to see it.
“Stop it, Emelia. Fucking stop it,” he snarls, shaking me. I realize he’s too strong. I can’t fight him.
Fighting him is only going to result in me hurting myself. I glance back at the tunnel we walked down thinking of Massimo, wondering if he made it. I wish I could do something to save myself. I can’t though. I’m too weak.
Ahead, the tunnel is dark. It looks like somewhere we shouldn’t be going. Dad stops when we get to a crosscut, confusion filling his face.
He looks from left to right. We both hear a sound, like someone running, and Dad decides to go left.
He pulls me along frantically. When we see a light ahead, he starts running. The worst thing we could ever do in a place like this, where everything is unknown. Dad runs forward on shaky ground as the earth beneath us gives. There’s a rail track ahead, with a rusty mining cart with some old ropes attached to it.
Twice we nearly fall over because the earth is moving so much. He’s heading to the rusty cart. I think that’s a bad idea. The track ahead looks old. Who knows when it was last used or even checked?
“Dad, where are we going?” I cry. “It doesn’t look safe.”
“Shut the fuck up!” he yells.
Before we can get to the cart, the track we step on breaks. Then we’re falling. The briefcase Dad was carrying goes flying past me, and I scream and scream as we go down, certain this is it. I’ll die now. But then I’m jerked to a stop and hanging in the air. Dad’s still holding me. He’s hanging from a rope. A rope so old it looks like it used to be white but is now brown with age and raggedy.
I manage to grab a part of it and hold myself up.
“Come. It won’t hold,” Dad urges impatiently.
He released his hold on me and tries to climb up, slowly. He’s right. The rope won’t hold. I don’t dare look down. Terror has me panting and thinking of pulling myself up as fast as I can. Out of danger. Out of fear.
The rope jerks and starts snapping.
Shit, shit, fuck. We’re nearly there. So close, but it can’t hold the two of us.
Dad stops midway and looks back at me as I try my best to make my way up when the rope gives again. He’s ahead of me, but our combined weight is just too much.
“I’m sorry, Emelia. I can’t die here,” he says. “I have too many plans.”
Before I can process his words, he pulls a knife from his pocket and starts cutting the section of the rope beneath his grasp. The section I am holding on to.
“No, please. Please don’t do that,” I beg.