The last she knew of her father, he was planning something that would undermine De Luca’s power, but she didn’t know the finer details. He never allowed her to understand his reasoning or for him to be part of his plans. To her father, she was nothing more than a woman.
She hated it when he treated her as weaker than him. She wasn’t.
Staring at her father now, she had to wonder what had happened because he didn’t look happy. In fact, he was bleeding, and seeing him like this, he appeared broken. His men didn’t have their weapons either. Only De Luca was heavily armed.
Her stomach started to twist and turn.
Milah didn’t speak for fear of how she’d sound. Instead, she looked at the two men and waited.
“Will you tell her, Russo? Or should I?”
Her father wouldn’t even glance at her. She’d never seen him like this. In all the years she was growing up, he was a commanding presence in her life. Someone who had always been in control, who never looked anyone in the eye with fear.
“Dad?” she asked, needing him to acknowledge her presence.
De Luca didn’t look her way. Instead, he chuckled. Then he finally looked at her, but she didn’t want to return his gaze.
Something had gone badly wrong.
One quick glance at him, another at her father, and nothing.
“You will be going with Damon De Luca now, Milah.”
“What?” she asked.
“You belong to him.”
She shook her head. “No, that cannot be.”
“You will do as he tells you. You will not run. You will hold your head up high and be proud to be a Russo.”
This made De Luca laugh even more. “Proud to be a Russo? Would you like me to tell her how you sold her? How you begged for your life?”
“Dad, please, don’t do this.”
Her father had sold her to De Luca as if she meant nothing? No, it couldn’t be. She refused to believe it. “Dad, please, talk to me.”
Instead, her father stepped away from De Luca, who clicked his fingers. His men grabbed her. “Take her to my home, in the mistress’s bedroom. I’ll be there to deal with you shortly.”
Trying to keep calm faded so fucking fast. As the men grabbed her arms to lift her, she fought them, stopping the two men with her surprise attack, but more men grabbed at her.
“No!” She screamed at them. “Let me go. Dad!”
Even as they hauled her off her feet and marched her out of the room, she screamed for her father. Anger rushed through her. It was quick and full of bitterness. What the hell had happened?
They dumped her into the back of a truck. She slammed her hands against the side of the vehicle, trying to get out. Everything was locked.
“Damn it. Let me out.” She wasn’t going to stop. Not for a single second. Her father had sold her to De Luca? How did this happen?
What could he have possibly done that was such a big giant screwup that put him at his enemy’s mercy? She wasn’t going to get any answers in the back of the truck, but she refused to go quietly.
If cops ended up following them, she’d be able to get their attention. She prayed for someone to flag them down, to bring awareness to her being kidnapped. Anything that would stop this from happening.
Her hands grew sore with the constant slapping against the metal can she was being transported in. The air was stale. Tiredness started to consume her.
She needed to get out. To get free. To finally be free of being a Russo and to be her own person.
“Let me out.”
The truck suddenly came to a stop.
It was so dark, and as she tried to figure out where the truck would open, the back or the side, she kept flicking her head to the front and to the right, wanting to surprise them and make an escape.
The truck opened, and she charged forward.