Bound to the Don

Chapter 33

Third person pov...

Salma had been unconscious for a while.

Then, her consciousness crept back slowly, like dragging herself through thick fog. Her body felt too heavy to move and her limbs refused to respond. Confusion clouded her mind as she couldn't remember where she was or how she had gotten there. The last thing she recalled was chaos...the bloody ballroom, bullets flying, bodies falling, blood everywhere. Then nothing. Just darkness.

Fragments of memory started to return, and with them came the image of Dante's lifeless eyes locked with hers, vacant and cold. A chill ran through her, and she quickly forced herself out of the memory.

She realized she was lying on something soft, a bed. The silence around her was unsettling, so loud that she could hear every ragged breath she took echo in the room.

Everything felt too still. Her eyes darted around the dark surroundings, scanning every shadow as confusion swelled inside her.

Pain flared behind her eyes, sharp and throbbing. Her head pounded with a deep ache, her throat dry. She blinked against the darkness, trying to force her vision into focus.

Where was she?

As her eyes adjusted, she noticed some details, the space wasn't familiar. This wasn't her room back at Armando's mansion. The air felt too cold and she covered her self with the flimsy sheets. She was still in her dress, thankfully.

The room was almost pitch black, but faint shapes began to form and she was able to notice an old wooden chair in the corner, a plain table, and a small dining area not far from the bed.

It looked more like a cottage, someplace small, quiet and hidden. The kind of place someone would use to disappear. A place meant to be off the radar. The realization tightened something in her chest.

Was she kidnapped?

But who would take her? She wasn't anyone important. Not someone worth taking. Her breathing grew unsteady as fear began to creep in. She didn't know how she got here. She didn't know who brought her. And more than anything, she didn't feel safe.

Her body screamed at her to get up and run, but she could barely move.

With effort, Salma sat up. Her heart pounded, and her eyes darted around the room again as if the answers might suddenly reveal themselves. She was just about to swing her legs off the bed when the door creaked open.

She froze.

Her breath caught in her throat as a shadow appeared in the doorway. For a long second, she couldn't breathe nor  think. Her muscles tensed and confusion swirled within her. Should she scream, but who would hear her. And she couldn't fight to save her life, she was in a dilemma.

But as the figure stepped into the light, all thoughts she had earlier can to a sudden halt as she sat there in shock.

Louis.

Her heart stuttered.

He was the last person she expected to see standing there. Out of everyone... why him? Especially after how things had ended between them. It didn't make sense. A tight knot formed in her chest as memories of their last encounter came crashing back.

He looked different. Tired and deathly pale. He was in his white dress shirt and she noticed a huge red patch on his sleeve. Was he hurt? She couldn't help but worry. His appearance was an evidence of the chaos he had likely fought through to get here. She didn't know how much time had passed. Morning? Night? The air was still and the silence in the room was too thick.