they did was laugh. My stomach jumped into my throat when the giant emerged from that same window, beyond enraged as he advanced toward me. With no other option, I sprinted as fast as I could, but my ankle hurt and I couldn't match the giant's speed. It was only a matter of time before he wrapped his fat arms around my waist and immobilized me against his rotund body.
“No! No!” I screamed and struggled to get away, but it was in vain.
“Shut up! I was going to go easy on you today, but that's not going to happen because I see you’ve chosen to make this difficult for yourself.” He lugged me back toward the house, all the while spitting threats. “I'm going to make an example out of you, bitch! By the time I'm finished, you’re going to wish you were dead!”
No matter how much I wanted to free myself, my attempts to fend him off were laughable. Those same two men stared at us, but made no move to intervene; even though I pleaded for their help as the giant dragged me behind him, kicking and screaming. At that moment, an expensive-looking sports car pulled up to the house and parked in the driveway. I had seen it somewhere, but where? A tall man stepped out of the lavish vehicle. A jolt shot through my body, and I cried with relief at the sight of that familiar face. It was him! Alessandro Damiani! Seeing him left me so shocked I couldn't think rationally, but I kept looking his way as the giant pulled me toward the door.
At last, our eyes met, and he paled as if he'd seen a ghost. He then mumbled something incomprehensible as he perceived the scene in front of him with an expression of absolute disbelief. In three swift strides, he approached the huge man who retained me in his grip. A sentence in rapid Italian surged out of Alessandro’s mouth. I blinked. He spoke Italian to the giant. It was only one sentence, but sounded ferocious and dangerous. I didn't understand a word, but whatever was said was enough to make my tormentor pause and look his way. From the corner of my eye, I spied those two men retreating back into the house. I still wriggled, trying to set myself free, but that only made the giant hold me tighter. Defeated and robbed of the last ounce of energy I possessed, I gave up and stilled. Alessandro Damiani's piercing, black gaze met mine. I was so humiliated that he of all people should see me in such a pathetic state. While he looked as sophisticated and powerful as ever, I was dirty, hair disheveled, and the layers of ugly make-up were ruined and melting all over my face. To top it off, I stood in front of him, trembling in my underwear and trying to escape this huge man who was about to hurt me in the worst way. But—no matter how much it shamed me to be so exposed in Alessandro Damiani's presence—he was my last hope.
“Please, help me,” I choked out in a small, desperate voice, looking at him through a blur of tears as I shivered in the giant's suffocating grip.
Those dark eyes turned maddening and filled with pure rage. Acute pain invaded my chest. Would he leave me at the mercy of this man just like everyone else? The frightening thought infiltrated my mind and took flight; what if he didn't care? What if I meant absolutely nothing to him?
My fears only deepened when he didn't say a word to address my plea, but instead bit out another commanding sentence in Italian. The giant retorted something in a mocking voice, and—in a split second—Alessandro Damiani's expression turned crazed, frustrated and absolutely furious. Lightning bolts flashed in his dark gaze, and he seized some black object from under his shirt. A chill danced down my spine. He had a gun. And he pointed it straight at me. He’s going to kill me.
A loud bang sounded. I screamed so hard my throat burned. Waiting to collapse, waiting for life to exit my body. That didn’t happen. I stood, shaking so hard my knees knocked together. The giant’s arms released me, and a loud thump resonated behind me. I peered over my shoulder and my stomach heaved. The giant was shot dead. A bullet-sized hole right in the center of his forehead oozed dark blood.