But to where?
The anticipation ofsomething—anything—was killing me.
The man urging me forward breathed down my neck as it were, but if I tried to hurry down the steep stairs, I could easily slip and fall.
Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad way to go…
My lips pursed. Well, it wasn’t like my father would mourn my death. Nico and Rory would, but there was no one else.
No one who’d give a shit about me. I had a gaggle of friends, but all surface level. None of them was close to me like my brother and his little family. The people that I knew were haughty and rich. They snubbed their noses at anything that didn’t fit in their little vapid world.
And unfortunately, I also knew for a fact they wouldn’t give two shits about my death. Maybe there’d be a day of mourning. And that’d be it. Leda D’Agostino used to exist in their world. But no longer.
Steeling myself against the flare of hurt in my chest, I was relieved when the stairs ended, and we found ourselves at another door. The man gave three raps on the steel frame, the door opened immediately, and he shoved me through.
Chapter 2
Leda
A sapphire blue carpet greeted me as I was pushed forward, and I was surprised to see the bright lights of a chandelier above my head. Music floated from somewhere unseen, and I could hear faint laughter in the distance. The tantalizing smell of bread made my stomach rumble despite the predicament I was in. I hadn’t eaten since lunch.
“This way,” my kidnapper said and took me away from the carpet down a hallway before she shoved me into a room.
Inside, there was nothing but a rack of clothing and a single dour-faced woman giving me the up-and-down over her black-rimmed glasses.
“Thank you, you may leave.”
My kidnapper snorted and walked off, shutting the door behind me and muttering something about not getting paid enough.
“I need help,” I said immediately as the woman shuffled over to the clothing rack and riffled through the hangers. “Please.”
She didn’t acknowledge my presence and continued going through the rack, picking up different outfits—each skimpier than the last—and muttering to herself. I walked to the door, grabbed the handle, and gave it a turn.
The door didn’t budge.
Tamping down my panic, I turned back to find the woman staring at me. “Take your clothes off,” she said in a grating voice. “We don’t have all night.”
I blinked. “What?”
She waved at my dress. “Take it off, or I’ll do it for you.”
“I’m not taking off my dress,” I said in a small voice. “Where am I? What is going on?”
The woman’s mouth twisted in an unpleasant frown. “You’re really going to make me do this the hard way?”
She advanced on me, and I pressed my back against the door, my mind racing. I could take her. I could knock her out easily enough. But that wouldn’t get me anywhere. There were no windows in this room, no other way out except the door I was currently pressed against.
“Please,” I begged. “I don’t know what’s going on.”
She rolled her eyes. “Last chance to take it off willingly.”
I glanced at her gnarled hands and decided that I would rather take my own clothing off. “Fine. Fine, just give me a moment.”
“Be quick about it.” The woman nodded and stepped back, a replacement dress with a plunging neckline in her hand. “They have no problem dragging you out there naked.”
My hands trembled as I reached for the straps of my sundress, shimmying it down my hips with tears in my eyes. I wasn’t a prude by any means, having grown up around not only the Mafia but also the glittering world of high fashion.
I heard plenty of stories about the debauchery of the rich and powerful behind closed doors. Yet despite my best attempt at sneaking into those to get a look in person, my brother Nico and the reputation of my father’s name always kept me out.