Submitting To The Devil - The Devil's Snare - Book 2

Chapter Fifty Six

Niko

"There are several islands here that the Mafia own. It could be any one of them," Sven added, his voice carrying an edge of frustration.

"We were below ground, I think," Bianca interrupted as I was about to agree. I could feel the instant stiffness of her body, the upset moving through her, but it was a start and a memory, nevertheless.

"Underground?" I echoed, intrigued.

"When they dragged me from the boat, we walked through untouched woodland for a while until we encountered a metal door. The screech of that door reminds me of the safe house on the Moretta's island. It was so cold as we descended the stairs for what felt like an eternity. I wore nothing but my nightdress, shivering and stumbling as Gerald pushed me forward with impatience," she recounted, her breath hitching at the memory.

"Air conditioning, perhaps?" Sven speculated, glancing between us with a hint of uncertainty as I added yet another Densel brother to my shit list.

"No. No air conditioning. It was just cold. Like a bunker below ground, and it smelled damp. It wasn't a nice place. Not somewhere you'd expect a man with the title of Don and a lot of money to live," Bianca recited, her expression distant as if she were still there in that chilling darkness. As we reached the beach's edge, I gently encouraged her down from my shoulders, planting her onto the sandy bank before pulling myself up beside her.

Sven joined us, his presence a steadying force as he muttered, "Makes sense. It's hard to track someone when they're underground."

His words struck a cord deep inside me, and I knew then that the Densels had purposely kept themselves hidden for many years by living below ground, where the lack of a phone signal or internet connection might make it harder to track them as easily. Also, land with no houses usually looks relatively inhabitable to the naked eye. It was the perfect fucking shield from the outside world.

Glancing out across the ocean, I wondered what direction their base was, and I also noted that we weren't far from the more extensive docks on the island's eastern side. Yachts dotted the azure surface, their sleek forms anchored against the horizon, where families presumably tied to the Mafia basked in the afternoon sun, seemingly oblivious to the dangerous undercurrents lurking around them. People on jet skis carved through the water's surface, slicing through the waves with laughter, but no other signs of life were apparent.

"Is the Moretta's yacht here?" Bianca asked out of nowhere, shielding her eyes from the sun's harsh rays as she glanced over the horizon. Her expression shifted as she scanned the distance for a familiar yacht. I almost laughed off her question, doubting the relevance of its existence to us. What would it matter to us even if it were around?

"It would be docked in their boat shed a few knots from here," Sven chimed in, his tone carefully measured. Yet I heard something like keen interest in the notes of his tone. "It could prove a good place to lay low," he added, a spark of possibility igniting in his gaze.

"Or the shed could become a target that ends our lives when they retaliate and blast it to oblivion, Sven," I warned, the weight of our precarious situation settling heavily in my chest once again.

Christ, on every avenue we look down, there is bloodshed and upset. There is also the vast possibility that Bianca will be taken and harmed because of her father's previous choices to seek out the help of the Densels.

What did he need so badly to give them Bianca in payment anyway?

Does Bianca even know?

That's not something I want to dredge up, so I refuse to ask the question aloud.

Sven sighed, his brow furrowed in thought, the light casting shadows across the determined lines of his face. "Well, what choice do we have, Niko? Every avenue we consider seems to lead us further down a path towards doom. Perhaps we could turn the boat to our advantage; it's more cover than we have right now," he argued as he spanned his arm around us to the open beach where there was no cover for as long as my eyes could see, his voice tinged with a mix of desperation and hope at salvation. He was right; we only needed a hiding place until Luca could swoop in with manpower.

I glanced at the ocean's clear waters. The gentle lapping of the waves belied the chaos simmering beneath the surface of our current reality.

"Fine," I relented. "Do you know where the shed is?"

Sven smirked, the first sign of happiness on his face since we had arrived on the mainland this afternoon.

"Follow me," he replied with a nod, his expression resolute. He set off ahead of us, the sliding sand beneath his boots leaving a trail of his steps as he kept close to the rugged embankment we had painstakingly climbed upon. I'm sure he's purposely keeping along that line in the hopes the tide will wash away any evidence we were here in just a few hours.

Did I mention that working alongside him left a bitter taste in my mouth?

He was good at his job, and he often worked without moaning. Just like now, he was trying to help me the best he could, and yet it seemed like I opposed him at every opportunity I could.

"Keep to the edge," I encourage Bianca as I put her between Sven and me.

"Okay," she nods, looking down at the footprints before her and stepping inside them to create one trail instead of two.

Smirking, I follow suit, lining my big feet up with Sven's to make it look like one person walked here, just in case the ocean got us dirty and left the trail for someone like Densel.

"It's about twenty minutes," Sven noted.

"We're following," Bianca added.