25-year-old Lyra loves to dance and hang out with her best friend, who is more like a sister. Lyra's world is turned upside down when she is taken hostage. Soon Lyra discovers she is drawn to one of the Russian men who took her and fights it, knowin...
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Four men burst through the door with speed. My heart thumps loudly in my chest. I don’t fight them as much I want to. Wincing in pain, I bite my lips between my teeth. The grips are tight, and they're quick to take me out of the room and down the stairs. They throw me in the back of the SUV, then cover my face and tie my hands. It takes everything I have not to panic. I’m here for Laura. Laura, Laura, I repeat her name in my head like a mantra. Reminding my self why I am here.
I take several deep breaths and pray that if there is a god. He can hear me. He can help me. I never believed before now, though, so I don’t count on him answering me if he is real. I don’t know how long it is before the van stops and the doors open. If you could see my self right now, you would see the shock. I didn’t figure my father to be here in New York. He knew I would be here. He was sure I would come here.
The door opens then I’m pulled out roughly. Landing with a thump followed by a groan as I’m tossed on the ground, landing on my knees first on grovel. Pain shoots through my kneecaps, and I fall forward on my coved face, not being able to catch my fall. I hear laughter all around. Deep throaty voices are talking among each other. I don’t bother to get up. To curse them out. I know what coming. I know what I will have to endure before Viktor and heath have the chance to save me. That is if my father doesn’t just kill us before they get here.
I think both because I know I walked into a trap. I know he won’t let her go what he doesn’t know. Is that I set a trap of my own. Weather or not we die today, this place will be swarming with cops and the FBI within the next three hours. I hope I get the chance to see his face when they arrive. When he knows, I have screwed him once again. I hope he rots in prison for the rest of his life or dies today for the pain he caused. For life’s he has taken. For the mother, he took from me.
I’m picked up again and dragged off. Cold A/C air touch me lightly through my clothing like a gentle cress. The heat of my core temperature dropping slightly. I hear a high-pitched scream from somewhere in the distance. Not just a high- pitched scream. Laura’s cry.” Laura!” I scream frantically and take off, not caring that I can’t see through this cover on my head. I clash to a hard body falling back to the ground on my but.
“where are you, coward? I’m here now let her go. Let her go now!” I scream in the room. His deep chuckle fills the room, then his little puppets follow in like this is all just some joke.” Leave us,” he demands. I hear scuffling and hold my breath as I wait for whatever is fixing to happen. I will not fear him. I will not show him weakness. After all, I am the mafia’s daughter.
That’s a lie, though. I may be the mafia’s daughter. But not the mafia. Didn’t grow up in it. But I’m strong with-out it. I survived on my own, taking care of my self after my mother died. I pathed my path. Made my own life. I was alone for years before Laura found me. Before we found each other. I went through a lot when I was kidnapped. I had a major war with my self and who I was. In the end, I won. I have believe I will now too, but if I don’t, I know heath will do everything in his power to put him away. Never to be out again. To hurt anyone again. This sacrifice is enough for me to accept my death if I have to.
“Tisk, tisk, my child. No need to be so rude. I don’t appreciate name-calling.” He scolds me like a child in trouble. The cover on my head is jerk off my head and tossed somewhere to the side. I squint my eyes to the sudden light. Where-ever we are, it's historical and probably has not been used for a long time. Old hardwood floors. Redbrick walls, high ceilings with Victorian trimmings. Furniture covered by dust-covered sheets scattered through the room. I’m guessing he brought me to another home he must own but don’t use. Or maybe he brought me to one that not his. Broke into it maybe. Don’t seem like mafia-style, but I wouldn’t put it past my father at this point. I would bask in awe if I were not in the situation I’m in right now. I don’t have the luxury of forgetting to let my guard down. My father stands before me in a perfect navy- blue tailored suit with gold button cuff — my father's angry face staring into mine, daring me to run to piss him off more.
The grip on his gun is loose, but the vanes in his neck pop out slightly, his cheeks flushed with red, showing me my normally calm and collected father is furious. A slight limp in his leg when he walks makes me want to scream in triumph. A weakness. One weakness that gives me an advantage if it comes down to fight. If he tries to beat me, I will not lay there and take it like the last one. This time I won’t just shoot him in his leg.
” You have me now, let her go,” I growl. His laugh makes me want to cry in aggravation.” You believed I would let her go? Just like that? After all the chance I gave you. After all that I have done for you?” he asks me with seriousness. I wonder if he has lost his mind. I laugh now, too, at his words.” What have you done, father? For me? please, I would love to hear them.” I shake my head with a snicker.” I will do it then. Let’s start with mom,” he scoffs, cutting me off.” That bitch deserved what she got. She took you away from me!” He yells.
“No! She did the right thing by taking me away. At least she dared to do what was right for me. And you, you think kidnapping me, trying to turn me into you is the right thing to do?” I question, but at this point, I could care less what he thinks. “Yes! You would have had everything. The world at your finger-tips!” He says, rubbing his fingers together, drawing closer and closer to me. But I don’t back up. The gun hangs from his hands, taunting me, pulling my eyes to it every so often.
“I was happy; I was where I wanted to be. I didn’t want the world at my finger-tips. I don’t want it. You’re a sick coward, and I have no remorse for you. He laughs, raising the gun to my head. His blue eyes are staring into mine wildly.” And I none for your daughter.” I growl and push my head into the tip of the gun. Cold to my skin. “Do it then?” I say with no trace of a tremble. Just before I hear the trigger of the gun, I feel serenity wash over me like never before. For the first time, I know my fate, and I accept it. This is what I think when the trigger goes off.
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