“Ezra.”
The sound of my name startles me awake and I bolt upright from the mattress on the floor. I glance around as I try to make sense of where I am. Reality comes crashing back into my mind as the dream I was pulled from swiftly fades, though I can still remember bits and pieces of it in flashes.
I dreamt that the four families took Anya from me, pinned her down, cut her stomach open, and took her baby as she screamed and bled. But the baby wasn’t theirs to take. It didn’t belong to them.
He belonged to us.
He was my baby boy.
My son.
Same green eyes and sandy blond hair.
He was undeniably, unquestionably mine.
But now, reality’s back to bite me in the ass. Luca and Renata are opening the door to my cage.
“I have no intention to harm you right now, Ezra,” Renata says as Luca pulls the transparent door all the way open, stepping back and allowing Renata to fill the space to stand in front of me. “But if you try to fight or run, you will regret it. There’s simply no need for such incivility here.”
I give Luca a once over as she speaks. He’s shirtless, but he’s wearing jeans and a black leather collar—a slave if I ever saw one. But he doesn’t seem frightened of her. He doesn’t even seem to show any hatred or disdain for simply being a captive and in her presence. My eyes narrow on him in my scrutiny because I don’t understand what I’m seeing.
“I want to see Anya,” I tell her.
She sighs. “You’ll see her around. Although I don’t have any reason to offer you assurance, I will tell you that she’s fine if that troubles you. She’s with our family doctor now.”
“Where?” I climb to my feet, stepping toward her. “I want to see her.”
She purses her lips. “You’re in no place to make demands of me. If you cooperate and do as you’re told, then you might get to see her this evening at dinner.”
“What do you want from me?”
“You already know what I want from you,” she says with a crooked smile. “Come with me. Don’t keep me waiting.” She turns on her heel and strides toward the staircase, high heels clicking along the cement floor.
Luca stands there, waiting for me to follow Renata, so I do. But not without glancing over my shoulder every few steps to keep an eye on him. I don’t like having this guy behind me.
We arrive in the kitchen at the top of the basement steps. Renata closes the door behind Luca and types in a code on the keypad to lock it shut, hiding it behind the drywall.
A secret basement to keep women captive.
These people are fucking nuts, and Vigo was a straight up psychopath. But when I remember that my girl killed him, a slight smile twitches in the corner of my lips and I have to hide it. He tried to end her, but she won that battle and ended him instead. It reminds me that she’s strong enough to win the whole damn war if we can just figure out how to do it.
“I assume you’re hungry,” Renata says.
Is she asking or telling me?
I shrug.
She reaches into a cabinet and pulls out a small plate. It’s stark white, just like the rest of the kitchen.
“Did Luca introduce himself?” she asks, nodding toward her collared slave. She reaches into the fridge and pulls out a large bowl covered in plastic wrap. “You should get to know each other. You’ll be serving me as he does.”
“And how exactly will that be?” I ask slowly.
She looks over her shoulder at me and smiles. “Have patience. The fun is yet to come.” She pulls the plastic wrap off the bowl and grabs a serving spoon, scooping fresh fruit onto the small plate. “Luca, come. Eat.”
She lifts the plate from the counter and bends, setting it down on the floor beside her.
What the fuck?
Luca circles the short side of the oversized kitchen island, going around to the other side where Renata stands. Then, he lowers, disappearing behind the island. I must be misunderstanding because I think he’s down on the floor, eating fruit off a plate like a dog.
What in the actual fuck?
My eyes remain fixed on the edge of the counter near where she stands, in the place where Luca disappeared behind it. When she tells him, “Good boy,” and bends down to pat him—on the ass or the head, I don’t know which—my eyes flicker up to look at her.
She’s staring at me.
“Come, Ezra.”
I can’t help the chuckle that escapes me. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Ezra,” she chides. “I won’t ask you again. If I have to ask you again, then perhaps...” She places her hands on the island counter’s edge, leaning forward with her arms apart and elbows locked. “Perhaps Anya finds herself accidentally falling down the staircase. Perhaps she bumps her head and slips away in her sleep from complications. Perhaps she finally succumbs to her depression and succeeds in ending her life. Should I go on? I can think of a thousand ways to kill her without drawing suspicion.”
God fucking damnit.
I move, walking to her slowly. Luca eats from his plate on the floor, just like I thought—like a dog, bending over to pluck each bite from the plate with his teeth.
“I’m not eating like that,” I tell her, pointing my finger in Luca’s direction.
She moves toward me and I press back against the edge of the island, my ass hitting the counter’s edge. She moves closer and closer until her body is flush with mine. She’s at eye level with her heels on, but she may as well be seven feet tall by the way she makes me feel without saying a damn word.
My hands grip the counter on either side of my hips as I try to lean away from her. She turns away for a moment, only to reach into the bowl of fruit from the counter behind her. She plucks a strawberry from the bowl and moves impossibly closer to me. She presses in so close that her body holds me in place, and I feel more trapped here than I did in the cage.
She lifts the strawberry between us and taps the tip of it against my lips. I keep them pressed shut.
“Eat,” she says.
“I’m not that hungry,” I lie.
I’m fucking starving.
“You won’t be given another opportunity to eat until lunchtime, so I suggest you take the opportunity now. I intend to keep you healthy. I expect you to take care of my needs and that simply won’t be possible if I don’t keep you,” she pauses, her eyes skimming across my chest and down my torso, “strong and healthy.”
My jaw sets and my muscles clench. “Might have been nice if your brother had adopted that same philosophy for his girls.”