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Chapter 65

And you gave her the exact amount, yes?

I gave her a bit more, just to make sure she was down for the entire trip. 

You fucking idiot. 

I stirred slightly as the sound of a booming gunshot rang loudly throughout the air followed by a loud thud.

Is it... Angelo?

God dammit. 

Did he fucking overdose me again?

I swear to God I will kill him myself if he did. 

I winced as I tried to muster up the strength to open my eyes. My mind was foggy, and my body felt numb, as if I couldn't move even if I tried. I couldn't tell if I was in an upright position or not. Suddenly, my throat began to burn and I felt something building up in my throat, preventing me from breathing. 

Oh God, what a mess. 

I quickly felt a hand on my shoulder lift me up and roughly move me ... sideways? The movement caused me to open my mouth expelling a warm liquid. I winced once more as I attempted to open my eyes. A bright light burned my vision, causing me to move my head and close them once more. 

I heard footsteps echo around me as I stirred, trying to regain control of my limbs and muscles. Suddenly, I felt a freezing cold liquid drench my body, causing me jolt my eyes open. 

Deja vu shocked through me almost as hard as the water. I was hoping, praying even, to see Dante standing at the end my bed surrounded by his family. I was desperate to see Angelo looking at me with his signature puppy dog eyes in an attempt to get me to forgive him for overdosing me yet again. 

But all those hopes washed away as I laid my eyes upon a foreign room. 

"Good, you're up." A voice said dryly as I began to shiver. I was laying on my side, and from my point of view I was only able to make out a pair of expensive looking dress pants. 

I found the willpower to lift my aching head to see the devil himself standing before me: Xavier Pavlovski. 

He was standing there, with a bored expression plastered across his face. In his hands was an empty bucket, and behind him was a motionless body laying on the floor. I tried to clear my dry throat as I stared at him with narrowed eyes. 

I found myself in a large and very elegantly decorated bedroom. The entire design of the room was royal, and the beige tile was accentuated by the red bed sheets. There were no windows, but instead, classic paintings in thick gold frames.

"It's so hard to find good help these days, isn't it." He said as he tilted his head. He carelessly tossed the bucket to the side, causing it to hit the wall. 

"I gave him everything he needed. The exact amount, the type of drug to use, I even did all the calculations myself and yet," Pavlovski said as he grabbed his gun from his belt. "He somehow managed to fuck it all up!" He screamed angrily as he proceeded to aim his gun at the dead body on the floor. I watched in horror as he emptied the guns clip into the mans body as his face contorted into a psychotic scowl. 

He stood there in silence as his loud breathing filled the air. 

"So." He finally said as he placed his gun on his belt once more. "You can blame this motherfucker for how you're feeling right now." Pavlovski said calmly as he grabbed the seams of his suit jacket with both hands, straightening it out as he looked down at the dead man. 

"Shouldn't I be blaming the person who ordered the drugging instead?" I asked in a raspy tone, making Pavlovski look at me with an emotionless expression etched on his face.

"No, you shouldn't." He simply stated as he looked up at me.

"Where am I?" I asked as I tried to get up, only to fall face first onto the mattress. 

"Well, my dear, you're finally home." Pavlovski said as a wicked smile stretched across his lips. 

"Mom..." I breathed as Pavlovski walked over to the nightstand beside me. He opened up the drawer and pulled out a thick black box. He sat down beside me before rolling up his sleeves. 

"Ah, yes. I almost forgot about... her." He said with disgust while he opened the box, revealing a needle. 

He roughly grabbed my arm and pulled it towards him. I tried to fight back, but my muscles felt weak and unresponsive. 

"You may see her if you behave." Pavlovski said in a deadly tone as he gripped my wrist tightly. 

He quickly straightened out my arm and forcefully shoved the needle into my vein, causing me to whimper slightly. 

"This will help with the overdose." He stated as he pushed the contents of the needle into my arm. It felt cold, as if he was injecting ice into my already numb veins. 

Once he was finished, he put the needle back into the black box, stood up, and began walking towards the door. 

"Why am I here?" I asked quietly, making Pavlovski look at me with an emotionless expression. 

"Because this is where you belong." He said in a cold tone as he stared at me. 

"Why? Why so much interest in me now?" I asked as I looked up at him with a scowl. "If you really were family, if you really cared about me, why intervene in my life twenty years too late." I said, breathing heavily. 

"Because I didn't know where you were." He said seriously before swiftly turning around and grabbing the door knob in front of him.

"A maid will help you with anything you need. She speaks Russian, and has been instructed to not communicated with you, so don't even try. She will come and get you in the morning. " He stated before walking out of the room without another word. He slammed the door on the way out, making the paintings shake slightly on the walls. 

I shook my head as I tried to think clearly and evaluate my surroundings. I felt dreadful, which meant that I didn't fully sleep off whatever sedative they gave me. The room was elegant, yet lacked clocks and windows, giving me no indication as to what time it is. Pavlovski said morning, which hopefully meant that it was evening here. 

I was abducted at 2am in Venice. From what I remember, I was overdosed because they wanted me to stay unconscious for the entire trip. 

Given my previous experience with overdoses from Angelo, I knew that 200mg of a sedative would knock me out for about 15 hours. If Pavlovski was transporting me somewhere close by, I wouldn't have been given such a high dosage. 

The logical thing would be for the Russian Mafia to hide out in... well, Russia. But to get from Venice to Moscow by plane would only take about 3 hours... given the sedative and all, it wouldn't make sense. 

So based of the facts I have, my reaction to the sedative, and what I overheard, I'm most likely not even in Europe at all. 

I looked down at my clothes, grabbing my shirt as I examined it. I was in a black shirt and black sweatpants. They were new clothes that I was not wearing when I left the Vino estate. 

I frantically reached for my neck, hoping to feel the cold metal of the bullet against my skin. But my heart sank, as I felt nothing. 

My necklace, and the tracker were gone.