A Treacherous King- Dark Mafia Romance

eighteen

Maeve

Maks gently lays me in the backseat of a car and drives away from the manor. My chest is heaving with sobs at the realization that I am going to die tonight. It's a fear so crippling it leaves me breathless. I didn't even get to say goodbye to Nadia and Simon. That hurts me more than anything.

Maks turns up the radio trying to drown out my sobs. With the tape over my mouth and the bag over my head, I am having a hard time breathing. My crying is only making it worse so I try to stop by closing my eyes and taking deep breaths through my nose. It helps a little, my wracking sobs subsiding.

I feel like we're in the car forever before I hear Maks putting the car in park and turning down the radio. He gets out and opens the back door. I immediately start kicking my legs out trying to make contact with some part of his body, but he grabs my legs and pulls me out of the car.

Once out, he lifts me back into his arms to carry me. I hear a door being opened, a man's voice speaking Russian to Maks. He replies and then I am being met with cold dingy air. I can't see shit from the bag, but it seems to grow even darker.

I hear several footsteps along with Maks as he rounds a corner and stops. Another door opens and I am suddenly being placed in a chair. Maks reaches down and cuts the zip ties around my ankles, but just as quick replaces the ties with shackles. He does the same thing with my hands, shackling me to the chair. He removes the bag from my head and I am met with the sight of Maks, flanked by two other men.

The two men behind Maks regard me with stone like expressions, but Maks looks at me a little softer. He doesn't say anything, just turns and leaves, the two men following behind him.

I take in the small room I am being kept in. A light fixture is hanging low from the ceiling, casting dim light around the small area. The blank walls painted an off white color.

It's cold in here, cold and daunting like a morgue. I glance to my left and let out a muffled scream as I spot a man shackled to a chair like me. He's got his head bent down, and looks to be unconscious. His dark hair peppered with gray is hanging unkept all over his head. The man looks oddly familiar. I squint my eyes, trying to decipher in the dim light. Then it hits me like a ton of bricks. My stomach bottoming out, my heart stilling in my chest.

Huxston.

I try to say his name around the confines of the tape but it comes out muted. If he's unconscious, he wouldn't be able to hear me anyway.

My mind races a mile a minute. I am trying to piece together shit, but all I can see is blind white panic.

I knew Huxston had something to do with this, Caine stated that the night we met. Caine must believe that Huxston was the person behind the murder of his mother. Huxston is the person that I am connected to. He's the reason I was kidnapped.

Fuck!

My mind quietens as I hear the lock on the door clicking.

I thrash around in the chair, but still as I watch Caine enter. He flips an overhead light on, the room suddenly filled with bright light. I squint trying to adjust to the brightness.

My eyes narrow, as I take him in. He's dressed immaculately of course. Armani suit, shiny black oxfords, and styled hair. He looks at me. A flash of something passes through his eyes, but vanishes just as quickly. He tears his gaze from me, and takes in Huxston.

I glance over to find Huxston stirring awake.