Mafia Wife (Mafia Series Book #2)

Part 14

"Eat up bitch."

Those were the words that accompanied the bright light that blinded Niccolo. Something made a cling as it touched the floor, and then, as quickly as it had come, the light disappeared. Niccolo blinked a few times, trying to readjust to the lack of light.

After Diego's latest beat down, he had kept him locked away in a little dark cell. He had nothing. He had been laying on the floor, passing out from time to time. Either from exhaustion, starvation, or blood loss.

At this point, he didn't know which. But he knew he wasn't losing.

He was alive.

His hands were now tied up in front of his body, forcing him to scout in direction of the door. He couldn't see much, but he used his restricted hands to feel the ground in front of him. He ended up touching what felt like a ceramic. A bowl.

It was food.

It appeared that he did not intend on starving him to death. One less option. Of course not. He hadn't gotten his hands on Gabriella yet. The fact that he was alive at least indicated her freedom. He would enjoy that for the time being since there was nothing else to bring him hopefulness.

Still, that option wouldn't last forever. Eventually, even if Niccolo was his one-way ticket to finding Gabriella, Diego would lose patience. One of these days, he would kill him. Meaning, he had to find a way out of this jam, pronto.

But how?

He didn't know where he was. There was constant surveillance; he heard the footsteps in front of his door. He was never left alone.

As he had witnessed now, mealtime didn't provide him with an appropriate escape window. The door was barely cracked open, he didn't know his surroundings and the assaulting bright light would throw him off. Not good enough.

He would have to think of something else, but his focus wasn't excellent right now. He should consider eating whatever it was that they brought him. It wasn't poison. That wasn't how the Devil would execute him. Too easy, not enough pain.

It was, however, degrading. There was no comfortable, easy way to drink whatever was in the bowl when his hands were tied up in front of him. Niccolo crooked his neck as much as he could, pressing the flesh of his wrists into the cold metal of the handcuffs, and ropes, burning them into the skin.

He resisted the urge to spat back out whatever it was and gulped it down as fast as possible. The less time it spent in his mouth, the less amount of time he had to taste it.

Once he was done, he put it down and then dragged himself back to the nearby wall, pressing his back against it. He didn't like this. He didn't like being trapped. The more time passed, the less he saw the possibility of an escape.

Especially if he kept bleeding out.

He was royally fucked.

***

"But-"

"Gabriella, please."

Lucas was usually calm and collected. Nothing seemed to get to him. Not Niccolo's attitude, not danger, nothing. Except now he looked frazzled. He was pacing a lot. Using his phone. Sitting at a computer.

They were alone. Somewhere. She didn't know where.

All she knew was that they after what had felt like forever, they had made it out of the mansion and the tunnels - or whatever the fuck it was they used to escape. Lucas hadn't talked much. Not that he was a big talker in general but still.