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

Chapter Sixty One

Bianca

For a long, suffocating moment, I wish my mind could whisk me away from this boat, away from the stifling confines of this room and the weight of Niko's presence beside me. But I can't escape Derek's relentless messages, each one punctuated by the words: Tick, Tock. With every notification, my heart plummets like a stone.

I glance at Niko, his peaceful face framed by tousled hair, and I grapple with my next move. Should I awaken him so we can confront whatever waits beyond our fragile sanctuary? But then I remember the wound on his shoulder, a brutal reminder of the danger he's faced—because of me. A wave of guilt crashes over me, heavy and unrelenting. He's sleeping because he's lost blood, and he's injured. How far in a fight would he get?

I chastise myself for feeling this way, knowing I must carry this burden alone, but deep down, I know I'm about to breach the trust Niko and I have created, even if it is fragile. In the back of my mind, I'm painfully aware that it is for the greater good. I need to protect not just Niko but also Emma, her unborn child, Luca, and their men. The responsibility is immense; for once, I can do something good.

Leaning down, I gently kiss Niko's lips, recalling the softness of every intimate moment we've shared. I trace his jawline, my fingers lightly entwining in his hair. I whisper, "I'm sorry," like a desperate incantation, longing for his forgiveness for leaving without his knowledge or blessing.

"I'm so sorry, Niko. So very sorry," I murmur, each word steeped in emotion as I plant another tender kiss on him, tears streaming unchecked down my cheeks. "I love you, too. I truly do," I confess, my voice shaky as I step back, hastily brushing away my tears, trying to compose myself and appear somewhat presentable.

Resolute, I know I must leave before he stirs, before the danger draws ever closer, tightening around us like a noose.

Derek's following text pierces through my resolve, marking the eighth minute that has slipped away. I turn to slip out of the bedroom, urgency propelling me forward. But then, my gaze falls upon Niko's phone, and an impulsive urge to reach out to Luca grips me. With trembling hands, I unlock Niko's phone, feeling the weight of my decision pressing down even harder.

I press his number, my heart racing as the familiar ringtone fills the air, each tone echoing my rising anxiety. Another two minutes slip by, and a new text flashes across my screen, the remainder of the five-minute curfew weighing heavily on my mind.

"Niko," Luca's voice pulls me from the abyss of my worries, bringing me back to the present. I step outside, sealing the door behind me, keeping Niko in the dark about this urgent conversation.

"He's sleeping," I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. I can feel the stutter in my speech, a mixture of fear and urgency tightening my throat. "I need to tell someone," I manage to say, each word a struggle.

"Bianca?" Luca's voice is thick with disbelief, sending a shiver down my spine.

"I'm going with him. He's threatening all of you," I blurt out, the words tumbling from my lips as I stumble through the dimly lit hallway into the living area below deck, anxiety coursing through me. My breath catches in my throat as I approach Sven, bound to that same chair I recognised from Derek's chilling photo—bruised, bloodied, and unconscious.

He was so close, trapped on that boat within reach. Why didn't he take me?

"Oh god," I whisper, panic rising as I drop to my knees beside Sven, feeling for a pulse beneath my trembling fingers.

"Bianca?" Luca's voice breaks through the fog of fear. His inflexion is frayed with concern as he senses the gravity of the situation.

"Sven and Niko are hurt. I have to go to him. I need to protect them, to protect you and Emma," I plead, desperation gripping my heart.

"No," he insists, his tone firm, almost pleading. "You need to stay with Niko. Whatever danger you're facing now will only multiply if you approach the Densels alone. Please, you have to understand—"

"I'm sorry," I sob, putting the phone down and placing it on the table before Sven. His blood is hanging in snot from his nose. I feel absolutely terrible that his injuries are so horrific that his face seems a mottled mess of purple hues, and what's utterly worse is that I hadn't heard a thing whilst laying awake in silence, only a room or two away.

The question begs me to acknowledge it once again. Why the fuck hadn't Derek just taken me when he obviously damn well had the chance.

The vibrating of Niko's phone fills the air, yet I ignore the call, knowing the longer I listen to a voice of reason, the less likely I am to leave this boat.

"Sven," I call just as another text comes through, pointing out twelve minutes have passed.

"Sven?" I call again. He moans, his head lolling around as he moves toward my voice. His eyes are so swollen he cannot open them fully, yet I feel our gazes lock for a fleeting moment as he nods behind me.

"What happened?" I ask.

He shakes his head, leaving me unsure of how to proceed. He whines but doesn't say a word. I'm not sure he can, even if he wants to.

"Don't let him make rash decisions," I urge Sven, my voice strained with urgency before I rise to my feet and slowly retreat from him. The blue phone vibrates softly in the stillness of the night, and another text notification breaks the quiet. I have only a minute left—sixty fleeting seconds to slip away through the creaking doors of the boat shed.

Footfalls behind me catch my attention, and a chuckle fills the air.

"This way, cretin. The boss awaits you," the man grabs for me, taking any decision-making upon himself, hauling me up to the main deck and out onto the decking of the boat shed.

A wave of dread washes over me, my heart plummeting like a stone. A knot the size of a golf ball feels lodged in my throat, choking back the sobs that threaten to escape. The journey from the boat feels laborious as if the calmness of the night is conspiring against me. The gentle waves lapping rhythmically against the sides of the shed mimic a heartbeat that quickens with each step I take, my breath coming in shallow gasps.

Finally, I'm pushed through the door to the shed, the cool night air washing over me like a refreshing tide. There, standing resolute against the dim glow of the moonlight on the deck, is Derek, waiting just a few feet away. His silhouette cuts a stark figure against the shimmering water, and my pulse quickens at seeing him as I'm shoved forward.

"Bianca Rossi," Derek greets me by walking the few steps to stand before me, his hand outstretched to pinch my chin between his thumb and finger. Tears spring anew down my face, and he chuckles. "Don't look so upset, little Bambi. You always knew the time would come that I'd need what's inside here," he taps my skull.

"What are you talking about?" I ask with confusion, and all I get is a delirious chuckle in response.