- “Sal! I want to see Sal! You can’t do this!
Let me see him! Sal! Sal! Sal!” The metal
cuffs on my wrists rattled with each.
desperate cry, but the only answer was the
steady drip of water from a leaky pipe. My
L
throat was raw, my voice hoarse. I huddled in
the corner of the cell, shivering not from fear,
but from the cold.
I’d known Sal was getting suspicious. But I
couldn’t believe he’d sell me out like this.
After everything I’d done for him. For a few
words from Maya Ellis?
I chewed on my fingernails, my thoughts a
tangled mess. One thing was clear: I couldn’t
die. Not yet. The mission wasn’t over. And
the only person who could save me was Sal.
That’s why I kept screaming his name. I
didn’t understand his feelings for me, but I
knew one thing: no one celebrates five
birthdays with a woman they don’t care
about. Not even a monster like Sal Demarco.
Finally, the door creaked open.
く
“You gonna shut up already?” a gruff voice
snarled. “Sal ain’t coming for you. If it
wasn’t for the boss wanting to harvest your
organs, I’d…” He trailed off, his eyes lingering
on me in a way that made my stomach churn.
I glared at him, my voice raspy. “Let me see
Sal.”
“I told you, he ain’t…” He lunged towards me,
but a voice stopped him. Mad Dog.
“Let me see Sal,” I repeated, my voice
stronger this time. “I have something to tell
him.” Silence. I raised my voice, rattling my
chains. “I said I want to see Sal! Sal!”
A deep, calm voice cut through the air. I
froze.
Г
“Who are you yelling for, Livia?”
Sal. He was here. Relief and confusion warred
within me. He looked immaculate, as always,
a stark contrast to my filthy, disheveled state.
“Sal, why?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“Why do you suspect me? I’ve been with you for years. Why didn’t you even ask me? What
if Maya…what if she framed me?” I tried to
inject sincerity into my plea, even though I
had no idea who Maya was or what her
motives were.
He crouched down, his fingers tracing my
cheekbone, a gesture of tenderness that
belied the coldness in his eyes. “You think I
still care, Livia?” he whispered. “You should
have known better than to cross me.”
His hand moved from my cheek to my throat,
his fingers tightening. I choked, my eyes
fixed on his. They were like black ice,
impenetrable, hiding the predator beneath.
He released me abruptly, and I collapsed on
the floor, coughing. I heard him speak to
Mad Dog, his voice devoid of emotion. “She’s
all yours.”
I coughed, my gaze fixed on his pristine
shoes. “Maya lied to you,” I gasped, as he
turned to leave. “Why won’t you…believe
me?”
- The door slammed shut, plunging the
basement back into silence. It was over. My
path led straight to hell.
Or did it? I tapped my fingers against the
bars, my mind racing. I didn’t know Maya, but
blaming her was my only play. Sal was
paranoid. A seed of doubt was all I needed.
“Get up,” a rough hand grabbed my hair on
the third day. “We’re taking you for tests.
Gotta make sure your organs are healthy.”
He gave me a cruel smile.
can live without a kidney.
“”
“Don’t worry, you
Plenty of other
uses for you after that.
They dragged me to a car. My mind drifted in
and out of feverish dreams. Faces of fallen
comrades, my old training officer, the first
time I killed for Sal. He’d knelt beside me, his
hand gently stroking my hair, welcoming me
to his world. He didn’t know I’d just murdered
the person I cared about most.
く
A needle pierced my skin, and the fragmented
dreams merged into one. Sal. Always Sal. He
was my obsession, my reason for living, my
sole focus for six years. The dream shifted.
Sal, consolidating his power, cleaning up his
image. I’d sent intel to the Bureau, but he
always walked free. One night, he’d had too
much to drink, and he’d asked me to be with
him. *Be with him.* Unthinkable words from
a man like Sal. I’d lied, told him I was in love
with someone else. He’d stopped, his eyes
blazing in the darkness. “Does your love
matter?” he’d sneered, his grip tightening on
my chin. He’d kissed me, hard and
punishing. “You’re mine, Livia. Whether you
want to be or not.”
A jolt of pain shattered the dream. Icy water
cascaded over me. I blinked, back in the
harsh reality of the basement Mad Dog
“Guess what I found out?” he leered. “The
doctor doesn’t recommend organ removal.
Turns out…you’re pregnant. Sal’s kid, I
presume. He probably doesn’t even know.‘
وو
Pregnant. The word echoed in my mind. Sal’s
child. Growing inside me. Why? Why his? It
felt like a violation, a final surrender to the
darkness.
“So,” Mad Dog continued, “we’re gonna take
care of that little problem first. Shame to
waste a perfectly good payday. And you’ll
fetch a better price intact.” He patted my
cheek. “Oh, and don’t worry. Sal won’t find
out about any of this.”
- “You’re awfully quiet,” Mad Dog remarked
as they drove me to the clinic. “No more
screaming for your boyfriend?”
I looked at him, a strange calmness settling
over me. “Ever hear about good always
prevailing?”
He scoffed. “Fate’s a load of crap.”
وو
I looked out the window at the passing
scenery. “I think I’ll live to see the end of
this.”
I survived the procedure. They kept me alive,
barely, in the damp basement, feeding me
just enough to survive. I lost track of time. I
scratched marks on the wall, did simple math
problems to keep my mind sharp.
Then, one day, they hauled me out, shoving
me into a car
Г
“Finally found a buyer,” Mad Dog said, his
voice tight with anxiety. “A real freak, but he
pays top dollar. You know what? Sal’s been
looking for you. Flipped his lid when he found
out about the kid. Said you were dead, but
he didn’t buy it. Now he’s breathing down my
neck! Gotta get you outta here, quick.”
The pieces clicked into place. Maya. She
was a plant, sent by Sal’s biggest rival.
Ambitious, but foolish. She wanted to be Mrs.
Demarco, but her charade hadn’t lasted long.
Her downfall was my salvation. Now Sal was
looking for me. And he knew about the baby.
He was tearing apart his own empire to find
- me. Mad Dog, caught between a rock and a
hard place, was selling me to buy his escape.
The buyer, they said, was a…collector. He
<
hang them up to admire.
Three days. Three days I’d been in his
“dollhouse,” my feet already sewn together.
He leaned over me, his face hidden behind a
steel mask. “What are you counting?” he
asked as he inserted another needle into my
arm.
The pain was excruciating, but I smiled.
“Time,” I whispered.
“What time?”
