Bound (The Devil’s Vow #2)

20. Trophies

Chapter twenty

Trophies

My hands trembled some more as I held my mother’s book tightly against me.

The footsteps were getting closer, and I knew I wasn’t ready to face Gianni.

Not after seeing this altar—this sick collection.

Not after realizing the insane depth of his obsession.

No. No. No.

The words echoed in my mind—a frantic plea for escape.

Okay. Get out of here! Now!

I scanned the room, desperate for a way out.

That’s when I noticed it—a small door on the far side of the room, almost hidden in the shadows. The only reason I even saw it was because of the faint, eerie red light spilling out from underneath.

Without thinking, I bolted for it, holding my mother’s book and the teddy bear.

Hurry. Hurry. Hurry.

I rushed across the office, reached the door, and yanked it open.

Jesus, help me.

I noticed this odd red light in the back of the closet, glowing over a shelf of something, but I had no time to truly check it out.

Once in, I quickly closed the door.

Fuck. Fuck.

Shaking, I tried to calm my rattled nerves.

The space was definitely a walk-in closet, and the red light was coming from something deeper in the back, casting strange shadows along the walls, but I couldn’t focus on that.

All I could think about was staying quiet.

Will he notice the book or teddy bear is gone from his sick collection of me?

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to steady myself as I heard the door to the office creak open.

Fuck. Fuck. He really came in here.

Gianni’s footsteps were unmistakable.

Slow.

Deliberate.

Yet, utterly powerful.

My body tensed.

Don’t find me. Please not now. My head is too shattered.

Every muscle in my body was on edge.

I heard him let out a long, relieved breath.

“Good. She didn't come in here. It’s not time for her to see this. . .not yet. . .”

I pressed my hand to my mouth, trying to stifle the sound of my own breathing. My body trembled with the effort to remain quiet, to not let the fear rising inside me break through.

Fabio’s voice came next. ”You still haven’t told her about this?”

“I don’t know how,” Gianni replied.

His tone was frustrated, but softer than I expected.

Fabio let out a long breath. “Dude, you’ve got to get that shit out before she sees this.”

“How do I tell her?”

“I don’t fucking know,” Fabio shot back. “I didn’t understand this shit either. I’ve told you for years that this is crazy.”

“It wasn’t crazy when. . .the collection was smaller.”

“No, bro. It was crazy then. Especially when you started cataloging her nails.”

The air in the closet felt thick, suffocating, as I listened to them.

Slowly, I stepped back.

There was a brief silence, and then Gianni’s voice broke it. “Let’s go to the wine cellar and cheese caves. Makayla said she showed interest there and might start monitoring them.”

This sadness hit Fabio’s voice. “Mom would have loved that.”

“Of course. Mom loved her.”

My nerves calmed as the sound of the office door closing finally reached my ears.

They were gone.

For now.

My knees nearly buckled from the relief. Panic still coursed through me, my skin was now cold and clammy despite the warmth of the closet.

I had to get out of here.

Where will I go? Could I escape when he’s back?

I began to take a step forward, but something told me to glance over my shoulder.

Slowly, I turned around to face the red light that had been casting its haunted glow over the space. Like I’d already known, it came from the back of the closet, where there was a shelf lined with huge jars—rows and rows of them, all illuminated by the strange light.

Wait a minute.

Unable to help myself, I squinted and took another step forward, trying to make sense of what I was seeing.

And then it hit me.

Oh God no!!

I stumbled backward, my body slamming against the door behind me as my breath left me in a strangled gasp.

Oh! My! God!

My hand flew to my mouth, covering it to stifle the scream that was building in my throat.

I was too late.

The sound was already forming inside me, a silent scream, so loud in my head I thought I might lose my mind.

Right in front of me were jars filled with decapitated heads.

I clutched my stomach, doubled over, and vomited right there on the floor. My vision blurred with tears.

Acidic liquid spilled out of my mouth, covering the floor in disgust. This putrid smell rose from it.

My throat burned.

I spat, trying to rid myself of the bitter taste in my mouth.

The urge to run filled me again.

To leave this nightmare behind.

But my legs refused to obey.

I just stood there, staring at the horrifying spectacle.

Each jar was filled with preservative fluid, making the heads appear grotesquely distorted behind the glass. I could see their eyes; they were all open and staring into nothingness.

Why? Just. . .why?

Light-headed and shaking, I forced myself to count them.

One. . .two. . .six. . .twelve. . .twenty-six.

More tears welled up in my eyes as I realized that I recognized the heads.

What the fuck?

The first head was that of Pierre, the boy who had given me my first kiss when I was eighteen.

He had been sweet, innocent.

We were just kids.

My heart lurched as I stared at his lifeless face, his lips frozen in a scream.

I remember Pierre had disappeared. His parents came to the school several times. There’d been a whole investigation. Lots of news outlets covered it for a few weeks.

Gianni killed him. Oh my God.

My eyes darted to the next jar, and another wave of horror crashed over me.

It was a girl from Juilliard.

Brenda.

She’d been the one who used to mock me relentlessly, laughing at my hair, my hips, my lips, telling me over and over that I didn’t belong.

Brenda’s sneer was gone now, replaced with an unnatural stillness.

I bit down on my hand, trying not to scream. If I did, the guards might hear me and tell Gianni.

Still, my body shook uncontrollably as I moved my view down the shelf.

There were more heads of people I had known.

Mr. Roberson, my creepy ballet teacher at Landmark Academy, the one who had always been too handsy, too invasive with me and the other girls. His head sat there, motionless, his hands now incapable of ever touching anyone again.

Jesus. . .I didn’t even know these people had gone missing.

I took in the rest of the faces—people from different parts of my life.

People who had wronged me.

People who had hurt me.

People I had once cared about, or had crushes on.

And they were all. . .here in the Devil’s closet.

He just. . .killed them due to me. . .

Tears streamed down my face, and I pressed my hand harder against my mouth, trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to break free.

I was screaming in my head, but I couldn’t let it out.

I couldn’t make a sound.

What the fuck do I do now?

I closed my eyes, trying to block out the sight of the jars, but it was no use. The images were burned into my brain.

Get out of here. Now.

I turned, pressing my forehead against the door, my hands shaking as I gripped the handle.

I had to get out of this closet.

I had to run.

He killed all of them. . .for me. . .and then. . .kept their heads for what? As. . .trophies?

It wasn’t just the obsession anymore.

It wasn’t just about stalking me or collecting pieces of my life.

This was something else.

Something so much darker, so much more twisted than I could have ever imagined.

What do I do with this?

I gasped for air, trying to slow my breathing.

Calm the fuck down so that we can escape.

I put all my strength into steadying my breaths.

Every nerve in my body screamed to run.

I fought back the bile rising in my throat, trying to think.

Trying to form a plan.

I had to escape, but where would I go?

If I went to anyone in Obsidian Bay, Gianni would find me. He had the police in his pocket, and the ruling families would be on the lookout for me by the next hour.

Thousands of lower-level soldiers would be scouring the streets, searching for the Don’s new wife.

With his brothers controlling all levels of the city, there would be no house, club, hotel, alley, or even port to hide in.

There are woods behind the garden. Where does that lead to? Sampson Highway maybe.

If I could just get out of Obsidian Bay, then I at least had a better chance to get a way. It would still be a small chance.

I need a car.

I damn sure wouldn’t bring any further complications to Melanique. She already had to deal with my quick departure from the ballet, and even being forced to change the story due to Gianni’s ego. Add the fact that knowing the Fortunato brothers. . .Corrado had already started stalking her and possibly even killing people over her too.

Holy fucking shit.

But even more, if she helped hide me from him, her head might end up in Gianni’s closet too. I couldn’t have that. It wouldn’t be right.

Alright. If you escape, you do this yourself and very fucking quickly.

Already, so much time had been wasted.

I ran through several scenarios.

Wait. I could go to the ballroom.

No one should be there right now. If I could make it there and slip out onto the balcony, I could use the cliff steps to get down to the beach.

Once I was on the beach, I could figure out my next move.

The shoreline had to lead somewhere.

To safety.

To freedom.

But first, I had to get out of this closet.

Hurry up.

I steeled myself, forcing my legs to move. My heart pounded so loudly in my ears it was hard to think, hard to breathe, but I had no choice.

Gianni could come back soon.

Letting out a long breath, I reached for the door handle, gripped it tightly, willed my hand to stop trembling, and slowly turned the knob.

You’ve got it. Keep going. It’s all going to be okay.

The door creaked open.

Come on.

I pushed the door open wider, took a deep breath, and stepped out.

And then I froze.

No!!!!!!

Gianni leaned against his desk with his arms crossed over his chest and his gaze planted on the closet door.

He never fucking left! Only Fabio did. He KNEW. . .I was in the closet. . .

Those green eyes locked onto mine.

My breath caught in my throat, and my blood ran cold.

“Princess,” he said softly, yet fully disappointed. “I told you not to come in my office.”

The scream that had been lodged in my throat for so long finally ripped free.

“Ah!!!!” It tore out of me, echoing through the space—a scream of pure terror.

I ran off.

Where was I going?

I didn’t fucking know.

In a blur, Gianni was off the desk and closing the distance between us so fast I barely had time to reach the door.

And just like that, his arms wrapped around me, lifting me effortlessly off the ground and putting me over his shoulder. I held my book and teddy bear tight.

“No! Let me go!!” I struggled, kicking my legs, trying to break free, but it was useless.

He was too strong.

“Let me fucking go!” I kept fighting, hitting his back over and over with my free hand.

He held me as if I weighed nothing and carried me effortlessly through the office.

I trembled. “Where are you taking me?!”

Gianni didn’t answer.

And I learned in that moment that his silence was more terrifying than his words.

What’s going to happen next?