Chapter 75

Aurora POV

I pace the small bedroom like a caged animal, my thoughts race faster than my feet move, every step a stutter of panic and helplessness that I try, and fail, to swallow down before I scream in hysterics.

Gianna is curled up on the edge of the twin-sized bed, mouth pressed into a thin line like she’s trying to bite back screaming into the pillow next to her. I’ve tried everything—soft words, dumb jokes, even trying to talk out a plan on how we’re going to contact her father—but nothing gets through to her anymore. She’s gone quiet, which is worse than her crying, honestly.

At least tears mean there’s still fight in her. I’m not sure how much fight I have left either, though.

But I know we have to get our hands on a phone.

Somehow.

Stefano is the only one who’ll move fast enough to get us out of this before Alek does something irrevocable. Once he knows his daughter has been taken by the Russians, the very men who they’ve feared this entire time, it’ll be like throwing a grenade into a room full of gasoline.

My father won’t care what happens to me but Gianna is different. Stefano will come for her guns blazing, body count be damned.

God, I hate this.

I hate how our perfect plan spiraled out of control so quickly. One second, we were running from one devil and now we’re in the arms of another. Less than a few days ago, we thought we were free, but freedom had simply been a mirage.

A cruel one.

When the knock comes at the door, Gianna stiffens.

Alek’s guards come inside without waiting for either of us to answer. Tall, heavily armed, no-nonsense types with the kind of cold expressions that make your skin crawl.

They tell her it’s time for dinner with Alek in clipped English before gesturing for her to get up. She doesn’t even resist, just stands and smooths a hand down her shirt like she’s resigned to whatever performance he wants her to put on tonight.

There’s nothing I can do as they practically drag her out of the room and shut the door behind them. She turns to glance at me just before the door clicks shut, her eyes say everything her mouth can’t: please do something.

I nod and then I’m alone. The silence that follows is suffocating.

I sit on the bed for a while, fingers clenching the blanket beneath me as I use it to anchor me to something real. Options. Plans. Escapes. All of them dead ends. I don’t even know where we are exactly, just some gated estate somewhere outside the city with guards posted at every corner.

I consider the idea of trying to provoke one. Maybe I could fake getting sick, collapse like I’m having a seizure in order to be rushed off to the hospital and make my escape there. But that risks being separated from Gianna for good or getting shot for causing a scene once it’s discovered I faked it.

Eventually, one of the guards returns, dropping my bag from the hotel just inside the room before closing the door again without a word.

I lunge for it and search through it like a woman possessed. My forged documents are surprisingly still in here but my passport has been taken along with whatever money I had stashed in my essentials pouch.

I dump the entire thing out and search the rest of the contents, hoping for something to I could use to get us out of here. But all that remains is clothing and toiletries, all of which are completely useless to me now.

I scream into the bag before flinging it across the room in frustration, hearing it hit the wall with a dull thunk.

Wait a second… That wasn’t the sound of just the fabric of the back, that was heavier. Solid.

Picking it up off the floor again, my fingers brush against the seam to feel the outer layer of the back. A slight ridge near the back is when I find it, the stitching there feels tighter. Almost like someone had hand stitched it.

I dig my fingers into the seam and pull. The thread gives way with a faint tearing sound, and I shove my hand inside, grabbing onto something slightly rectangular. Pulling it out, I stare down at the little black burner, my heart leaping into my throat. For a second I’m not sure if I’m dreaming.

It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

Then I laugh, giddy and wild, pressing the phone to my lips in relief.

Camilla. She must have stuffed it in here when she gave me the forged IDs and passports. God bless her manipulative, shady soul.

I can hardly believe my eyes.

The burner phone feels like a brick in my hands, as if it weighs ten times more than it actually does. It’s old and scuffed at the corners, one of those tiny prepaid models you’d find in the back of a convenience store, tucked away by the travel sized medication and emergency chargers.

God, I could kiss her.

Thank you, Camilla.

I never thought I’d say that about her, especially after everything. But if she hadn’t sewn this into the seam of my bag, I’d be truly trapped. As it stands now, I have one chance. One tiny shot to reach out before everything goes to shit.

I stuff the phone deep into my bra, heart pounding, already trying to plan my next move. I need privacy—real privacy—and not the kind Alek’s guards pretend to give me by hovering just outside the door and listening for anything strange going on inside.

I can’t risk one of them bursting in here mid-text and discovering I have this thing.

Heading back to the door, I open it and peek my head out, spotting two guards leaning against the wall close by. One of them straightens when he sees me, immediately pushing away from the wall before I can think to step foot outside of it.

“I need a shower.” I say, making sure to keep my tone bored sounding.

One of Alek’s guards—bearded, burly, and absolutely terrifying—jerks his chin toward the bathroom. “Fine. Do not take too long.”

The nerve of these guys…

I offer a tight smile and nod. “Of course.”