We are still on the run, though we’re taking a minor pit stop for now. Turns out we spent too much time at the marina. The cameras were only supposed to shut off for fifteen minutes—it’s what security agreed to. We took longer than that, so they know who shot up that marina.
The images the media have aren’t very clear—they’re terrible cameras—but besides Draco, they’re now looking for a woman with red hair as well as a brunette. Yessica and me.
He has enemies everywhere. They don’t just stop at Yessica. They’ll continue to flood in, knock on the doors, demand things from him and threaten his life.
He is still wanted. Still a threat to society, even though I no longer see him that way.
“What is it, Gianna? You look bothered.” His eyes land on mine.
I press my lips, shrugging. “I don’t know,” I murmur.
He sighs and dispenses a handful of cream in his hand, applying it to his face. “I know what you’re thinking,” he murmurs.
“What?”
“How you want your face to be one of the last faces she sees before she’s gone.”
I look him over.
Spot on.
“I just want to see her.”
He looks sideways at me. “Then go. But this time, don’t set anyone free.”
I bite a smile, rubbing his back as he smirks. After putting on a pair of jeans and a loose white blouse, I tie my damp hair up and make my way down stairs.
When I get to the main level, there aren’t many people around. We have two maids and one butler, and they’re most likely in the other kitchen, beyond the dining area. None of the guards are in this area. They’re probably keeping watch at the shed. Draco wanted most of their eyes on her.
I walk through the smaller kitchen and Diego is standing by the doors when I walk out, just like I told him to. I walk past the pool, down the stone steps that lead to the rickety bridge.
And then the shed appears.
That old, familiar place.
My heart beats a little faster, breath faltering.
This place still gives me nightmares.
I pull the door open and step inside, the stench of urine consuming me. I hear noises, chains rattling, and my brows pull together when I hear men cursing, followed by deep and heavy grunts.
I continue my walk down the thin hallway, stopping in front of the second cell.
And there she is, standing but bent over.
Shackles are around her ankles, her wrists tied tightly with rope, bloody from trying to resist. Her red hair is matted, some of it hanging in front of her face.
She isn’t alone.
Two of the guards are here, Sebastien with his cock in her mouth and Diego with his cock in her asshole.
I swallow hard, watching the chains yank and tug, hearing her groaning and moaning, and I’m not sure if it’s from pleasure or pain. Diego slaps her ass while Sebastien grips her hair.
I know Draco didn’t order this. And I also know he wouldn’t care that it is happening. He told them he didn’t care what they did to her. To make her suffer.
And it seems she is.
I almost get the urge to open the gate and stop them—tell them that’s enough—but her eyes drift over to mine as Sebastien shoves himself deeper down her throat. Though her eyes are glistening, I see the anger in them. The hatred.
Her nostrils flare as he grips her head and slams deeper, cramming his entire cock in until it disappears. She whimpers, and I step forward, gripping the handle, but when she brings her bound wrists up and points both of her middle fingers at me, I release the handle.
I back away, listening to the chains rattle even harder and her moans turn into cries. I can’t watch anymore. And I also won’t stop them. So instead of interrupting, I turn my back and walk away. For now.
45
DRACO
After getting dressed, I walk down the hallway to the spare bedrooms and knock on the last door at the end of the hallway.
My nurse and maid, Juanita, answers it, smiling at me. “Hola, Jefe,” she murmurs, letting me in.
I give her a slight nod, stepping into the room and looking at the bed. Patanza spots me and tries sitting up against the headboard, but she groans instead, wincing as she adjusts her arm in the sling.
“Relax, Patanza,” I tell her, and she sighs, slouching into a comfortable position again. I take the chair beside the bed as Juanita goes to the bathroom and runs some water. “How are you feeling?”
“Better. Sore as fuck, but better.”
I huff a laugh.
“How about you?” she asks, looking at my bandaged arm.
I glance down at it. “It’s fine. Healing.”
She nods. “Where’s Patrona?”
I smirk. “Oh, she’s Patrona to you again?”
She sucks her teeth, dropping her gaze. “She always was. I was just pissed at her. Said some stupid things.”