Queen of the Underworld

66

I shut my eyes tight at the muffled screams that echoed through the dungeon we were in. The screams enough to make me feel the pain. Seconds ticked by, tantalizingly slow. The water from my hair dripped slowly down my face, making me unbearably aware of just how alive I was.

And how soon, I might not be.

I opened my eyes slowly, unable to train my stare away from the blood gushing out of Armando's thigh. It poured over and drenched his pant leg. Little droplets wet the floor, making a small puddle as they accumulated. His eyes were snapped open and his hands clenched to fists.

He looked like he was trying his best to not show pain. It didn't work. I felt the wetness of my cheeks—unknowing if it was water or tears— and hardened my glare at Angelo Mussolini as the bastard spoke again.

"And il bellissimo papà, well, he's not quite dead. Not yet. He will be soon, though. You'll kill him yourself."

He smiled at me, that same devilish smile he had when he captured me that first time. He opened his arms wide in an attempt at a welcoming gesture. It looked more like a cage than a welcome. A cage you can't break.

"Welcome to the Collection, Anastasia Rios Bianchi. We hope you enjoy your stay."

My eyes snapped to the new voice in the dungeon. They widened and the shock struck me like thunder. I felt electrified and paralyzed at the same time. A shot of energy while being immobile.

There was no way. No way at all. I heard wrong, I was imagining things.

But when the figure I knew all too well stepped into the light, the surge of energy died and was replaced with anger, sorrow, betrayal and a bloodthirstiness so strong, I could taste it in my mouth.

Here, right here. Right in front of me. I couldn't deny it, but believing it was worse.

"No, not Collection. Forgive me, Tasia. I meant family."

I stared at the person who I would have died for and killed for. The betrayal too strong for me to handle. I couldn't even manage a glare. The pain was unbearable.

The pain that had a name. A name I never thought I could feel this pain from.

Michael.

Eight hours ago...

We had a specific order to get into the cars. Even though we were heading to safety, the road to get there was anything but.

There were ten cars. There would be five different routes to get to the airport. In each of the routes, there was a backup car accompanying the transport car. In my car, I was going with Kiara, Elijah and Armando. The other groups were Nicolas and Veronica, Ash and Mateo, and Gabriel and mom. Each with two guards to keep them safe. One of the routes was a dummy route, meant to throw off.

As soon as the doctor left, Dad made sure to pile us into the cars and send us away. I could see the pain in his face as he sent us away, wanting to do it as quickly as possible to get it over with.

"Stay safe, okay," he told me, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "We can't be in contact. I won't risk being traced. Please, please don't try anything stupid. I love you, Tasia. Now go on. You have to go."

Before I could even open my mouth, he had planted a kiss on my forehead and walked away quickly. I love you, I wanted to say back. Stay safe. Don't you dare die.

We were supposed to see each other at the airport again, but, for some reason, everyone thought this was appropriate timing for goodbyes. They all hugged me and kissed my cheek. Said 'stay safe' and promised to see each other when we get there. I hated it. We would make it. We had to.