Chained - Zara Novak Page 0,1
they really move that quickly?
“I’m coming,” I shouted, quickly zipping my overnight bag shut. I slung it over my shoulder, left the bedroom and glanced through the peephole of my front door to see—
Nothing.
Huh.
“Hello?” I said through the door.
“Ms. Chase?” a voice said on the other side. “It’s Agent Jones. We’re here to pick you up.”
Looking back through the peephole again I saw a man in a black suit holding a badge up to the peephole. It looked official. I let out a sigh of relief, unbolted the chain and opened the door.
The man I had seen in the peephole was gone. Standing in his place was a huge man dressed in black. I was staring down the barrel end of a shotgun.
“What the hell?!” I gasped, instantly throwing my hands up in the air.
“Ms. Chase,” the thug said. “Are you going somewhere?”
“I’m—is that a gun?”
It was a stupid question, it obviously was a gun, but it’s funny how your mind works when you think you’re about to die.
“Have you heard of the expression ‘shotgun wedding?’” he said with a dark smile.
“Put it down, Wardorf,” a voice said from down the corridor. “I’ll take care of things from here.”
The thug instantly complied. He lowered the shotgun and stepped back. As he did so I saw another man standing behind him, a vicar. The vicar had a bible in one hand, and he was looking down at the floor. Footsteps echoed down the hallway and another figure came into sight.
He was…
Beautiful.
He stopped at the threshold and quickly glanced into the apartment before allowing his eyes to settle on me. He was tall with dark hair, pale skin and eyes that seemed to twinkle like rubies. He wore a simple suit and shirt without a tie, looking like a model from a high-end fashion magazine. His tussled brown hair was swept back, and I found my eyes lingering on a sharp jawline that looked like it was cut from marble.
“Do you know who I am?” he said very calmly, his voice smoother than the richest velvet.
I had never met him before, but I had heard enough about the man at the head of the Cartello Mafia to know that this was Vincent Cartello, the man that I had just tried to betray.
“Don Cartello,” I stammered, my heart beating in my temples.
“Correct, and so respectful. Well done, Rachel. Do you mind if I step inside?”
“I’m—” I stuttered again. I was shaking so badly I could barely talk. “I’m about to meet someone.”
“Oh, I know. You see, we’ve been watching you Rachel, quite closely. I’ve had my eye on you since you started working for me.”
“M—Me?”
“Invite me in please,” he said, not yet crossing the threshold.
“Come in,” I answered.
And then it was as if a weight in front of me vanished. I felt a pressure dissipate and blow past me, a gust sweeping into my apartment. The burning red eyes of my guest seemed to brighten, like coals on a fire under a firm breeze.
He stepped inside and I immediately found myself stepping back from him, like the pair of us were locked in some hypnotic dance. He flicked his hand through the air and the door closed behind him. It moved fast enough that I expected a bang, but it shut without a single sound.
I had walked back a dozen paces and was now standing in my small kitchenette, my guest only a few steps away in front of me. He stopped and looked around the apartment before letting those eyes settle on me once again.
“You betrayed me,” he said simply.
“I’m sorry,” I managed, my voice still shaking with nerves. “I’ll leave town, I won’t say anything. They’ll be here any minute, you should—”
He snapped his fingers and my lips sealed shut. I couldn’t explain it, it was like he had stopped me from talking.
“The agents won’t be a problem. My men have made it that they run into some car problems. We have a few minutes before we need to leave. Here’s what’s going to happen.”
The Don walked right up to me, only stopping a few inches from my body. It wasn’t just my lips that were frozen, my whole body was locked in some sort of terrifying trance. He looked me up and down, those strange red eyes slowly burning over my body with a fierce and ferocious intensity that almost made me feel naked.
“Naked?” he said, as if my thoughts had been said out loud. “Now there’s an idea. I