His Mafia Prince -
Chapter 87: He Set Me Up
Chapter 87: He Set Me Up
(MILES)
I feel nauseated, and my eyes are glued shut. My whole body is covered in sweat. Everything is going in circles and my thoughts are hazy. I’m not even sure of where I am. Slowly, my memories begin to resurface. I remember having sex with Arlo then shortly after, some strange alpha came by. That little fucker Arlo jabbed a needle in my neck.
I rummage through my pockets checking for my phone. I’m not even surprised that it is missing. I look around and notice that even my suit jacket is missing. The cold of the room seeps into my skin with just my slacks and a dress shirt.
Clumsily, I manage to stand. It’s so dark in here I can’t see a damn thing. It smells moot and gravy in here. I begin to move along what feels like a stone wall. The stones are cold to the feel and rough against my palms. That only means one thing, that I’m not in a finished basement of a building. So, where the hell am I?
I now know certainly that that punk Arlo set me up. He played me perfectly. He was acting nonchalant so that sure drew me in. If he was too willing, I would have lost interest instantly. I suspect that whoever it was that sent him to set me up knew that about me. That very idea is unsettling. The part that still surprises me is why he had sex with me. It’s one thing to kidnap someone. But to have sex with them while at it?
I didn’t plan for this.
That was what Arlo said right before we fucked. So then, the sex was unplanned for? Was it not part of his original plan? I don’t know whether to be annoyed or flattered that apparently, I was irresistible. I laugh harshly as I continue to trace my way along the wall. I’d love to catch that fucker Arlo and make him pay for making a fool out of me like this. I want nothing more than to squeeze that slender pale throat of his until I drain all the life out of his pretty emerald eyes.
My head hurts and my legs won’t stop wobbling. Feeling weak isn’t my forte, but now I have to stop after every few steps because I’m on the verge of puking my liver out. Whatever it is they pushed in my body has very unpleasant side effects.
I tumble on the crates and boxes as I work my way around. I begin to see shapes as my eyes adjust to the darkness. There seem to be some stairs at the far end of the room, with a door at the top. The silver light beneath the door shows shadows moving occasionally, like someone’s walking back and forth.
I ignore the nausea clawing at me and drag myself to the foot of the stairs. I crawl up the steps and finally manage to reach the door. I pound on the thick wood with my hand and the door rattles on its hinges. "Whoever the tuck you are, just know you made the biggest fucking mistake of your life."
I hear a laugh on the other side and bang on the door some more. I even kick on it a few times for good measure, letting every curse word that I’ve ever known flow freely from my mouth. My fists hurt with every slam at the door, but then again, it feels good. At least, it helps me forget the fear slithering through me.
"You think you are going to make it out of this?" I yell. "Nobody touches me and lives to tell the story."
Another arrogant laugh comes through the door.
I’m so enraged that my whole body is shaking. It baffles me who’d be dumb enough to grab me and think that they would get away with that stupidity. Even if they managed to kill me, Sasha wouldn’t let them go free. He will hunt them to the end of the earth. Attacking me is attacking him, not to mention we’ve been the best of friends since we were kids. That alone would be a reason for him to avenge my death.
His main priority needs to be his own reputation. He wouldn’t let anyone who murdered his second slip without suffering a horrifying retribution. That would make him lose his respect as head of the Triple Triads and could mean death or death to him and his immediate family. His men top would have targets on their backs. Gang war is ugly. Nobody escapes unscathed.
With whatever little strength I have left, I pound on the door again. Finally, I fall silent and slump against the wall close to the door. My mouth is dry as sandpaper and is horrible to the taste. I’m sure that is from whatever they injected me with. I shut my eyes, willing my throbbing head to quiet down.
I have no idea how long I’ve been held down here. I might have been unconscious for days for all I know. Does Sasha know I’m missing? Is he okay? Is he already looking for me? The thought of that makes panic course through me. What if somebody attacked his home? He’s got a ton of security, but people do change. Men turned on me, men that I trusted. That’s why I don’t trust a soul in this world other than Sasha.
He will come looking. I have to trust that he will come looking me.
Even so, I can’t sit around and wait for him to come looking for me. I have to do something. I have to try my best to get myself out of this situation. Thanks to me and my dick I’m now in this mess. I should have watched out. It’s so unlike me to be careless of my surrounding, but that little fucker Arlo drew me in an instant. He distracted me stupidly. His scent alone did the job. Even now I’m aroused as I remember his scent and taste.
I get up and descend the stairs then sit against the wall at the bottom of the steps. My breathing is jagged. I wallow until sleep catches up to me again. I’m certain it’s the drugs they injected into my system,
When I wake up, I’m cold and shivering. The nausea has passed though. I could use some water. I wish someone could just come down and give me some water. What do they intend to do with me? What exactly is their plan? If they’re holding me for ransom, they will keep me alive.
I need some fucking water.
The kidnappers didn’t bind my hands. They must be confident that I can’t break out of this hellhole. Not tying my hands makes escaping more of a possibility. Are they so stupid to not think that I’ll try and get away? I will. The first chance I get, I will definitely try and sneak out of this place. I just hope that Sasha and his family are safe.
Finally, the door jangles and lurches open. I stumble to my feet and glare at the yellow-eyed alpha entering my little prison. He is carrying a cattle prod and a tray of food in his hands. Even though I feel weak and pathetic, I try my best to school my face and look intimidating.
He sets the tray on the floor and then smirks. "You look rough. Did sleeping beauty not get enough of his beauty sleep?"
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