Trapped (Sinners of Boston #5)

9. Delilah

NINE

DELILAH

Ice stabbed into my stomach.

Ivan was an alley cat, rough and lithe. Dark scars marked his weathered face, trophies from a life spent in back alleys and bar fights. Since I’d known him, he’d been a rotten bastard. I couldn’t count how many times he’d watched Dimitri slap me around. If he was here, my ex wasn’t far behind.

He could be watching me now.

Ivan’s grip tightened, smirking. “Delilah, fancy meeting you here. You look tired. Santino ride you too hard?”

I flashed him a wintry smile. “What brings you out of the gutter today?”

He gestured to a car at the curb. “Let’s talk in private.”

“Let’s not.”

Sneering, he wheeled me toward the Mercedes. “Your fiancé is still looking for you. And unless you keep me happy, he’ll find out where you’ve been hiding. So be a good little whore and come quietly.”

Whore .

The word was a spark in the oil well of my self-loathing.

“Go fuck yourself, Ivan.”

Ivan’s hand shot out, and a blinding pain struck my cheek. I stumbled and fell. People around me either pretended not to notice or were too cowardly to intervene. Story of my life .

I picked myself off the street. Tiny rocks had embedded themselves in my palm. I brushed them off, wincing. Ivan grabbed me by the hair, leading me through a packed intersection and nudging me toward the parked car. A man got out and opened the door.

Shit .

I kicked and slapped, screaming, but he forced my head down. Then he shoved me, and I tumbled into the car. I launched myself to the passenger-side door and yanked on the handle—locked. I lunged at the driver, but the man in front pulled out a gun.

“Sit.”

I threw myself back, breathing hard.

Fuck . This was fine. I’d dealt with worse.

Ivan slid into the seat next to me, slamming the door shut. He laughed, shaking his head, a chilling sound. “You’re a tough bitch, I’ll give you that.”

The car moved.

“Let me out,” I snarled.

He winked at me, and my heart pounded.

“Poor Dimitri,” Ivan tsked. “He’ll be so disappointed. He’s been so sure you were kidnapped.”

I scoffed. “Is that what he’s telling everyone?”

Ivan leaned in, his breath reeking of cigarettes. “Oh yeah. He’s playing the heartbroken fiancé, searching high and low for his abducted bride. Meanwhile, you’ve been spreading your legs for Santino and fuck knows who else.”

I glared at him. “You don’t know anything.”

He chuckled. “We all saw the street camera footage of you running out of the church.”

“How did Dimitri take it?”

He made a face. “He’s lost his mind. He thinks you were taken against your will, but everybody’s talking about how you left him at the altar. You’re the girl that ghosted the Sovetnik of the Providence Bratva. Dimitri’s a laughingstock.”

“Good.”

He grinned. “He’s going to make your life a living hell when he catches you.”

“What do you care?”

“I’m the only reason Dimitri hasn’t found you yet. So if I were you, I’d be a little nicer to me.”

“All you’re doing is giving Santino more reasons to kick your ass.”

“You’re nothing more than a hole to warm his dick.”

I cocked my head. “Want to test that theory?”

Ivan’s smirk faltered. The car turned sharply, throwing me against the door. I bit back a cry and squared up against him.

“Stop the car. You should know better than to mess with Santino’s property.”

“Property,” Ivan mused, tapping his fingers on his knee. “That’s what you are, huh? A possession. But possessions can be exchanged.”

I swallowed hard, hating how true his words felt. “Santino would never trade me.”

“You sure about that?”

No, not really .

I didn’t trust men. At the moment, Santino liked me enough to keep me around. What happened when he discovered I wasn’t the dream girl he’d constructed in his head?

I bit my lip.

“Look, all I want is information. You’re close to Santino. I need details about his operations. Anything that’s leverage over Dimitri.”

I laughed bitterly. “Planning to take over?”

“He’s on his way out.”

“Santino will kill me if he even suspects me of betraying him.”

“Not if you’re smart about it. You give me what I need, and Dimitri stays in the dark about your location. We both win.”

“And if I refuse?”

Ivan’s grin widened. “Then you’ll be on your own. And believe me, Dimitri’s men are already circling. It’s only a matter of time before they get you.”

I leaned in, close enough that I could smell his sweat mixed with cheap cologne. The intimacy of the space made my skin prickle, but I forced myself to hold his gaze.

“I’m not snitching on Santino.”

His face darkened, his hand twitching as if he wanted to strike me again. “You have until the end of the week. Either you cooperate, or Dimitri gets a very interesting call.”

The car stopped, and the doors unlocked.

I opened it and spilled onto the street as the Mercedes sped off.

I got home and poured a drink.

Fire slipped down my throat. I needed to kill Ivan. Son of a bitch. Bastard. Gangster flunky . I ripped open the fridge, staring at a Styrofoam box filled with leftovers. I grabbed it, barely tasting its contents, and then washed it down with vodka.

Growing up in Providence, I’d never been more than a pawn. Dad didn’t see me as his child, just another asset. Mom died when I was little, and the woman he replaced her with treated me like a rival for my father’s affection.

He always picked her. Love was a transaction, and I didn’t have enough to buy it. My only friend was Luca, a boy I’d met when I was ten.

When I turned twenty-three, Dad handed me over to Dimitri, a monster who wore cruelty as easily as his Brioni suits. Running away wasn’t just about escaping a bad marriage. Luca said it was more about breaking free from a life that never belonged to me. Boston was supposed to be different, but here I was, still haunted by the men who tried to own me.

The urge to obliterate myself yanked at my navel. I wanted to smash all the glass in my apartment, but I had things to do.

I moved to the kitchen table, where a stack of sketches for Retro Rose Boutique awaited my attention. The boutique was my escape from my dad’s violent world, and I wouldn’t let anything derail my plans.

I pulled out my laptop and opened a message from my interior designer, Claudia. She’d sent mock-ups for the boutique’s layout, each design more beautiful than the last. I clicked through them, making notes on what I liked and what needed tweaking. The vintage aesthetic I envisioned was coming to life.

The next email was from a potential supplier, confirming the availability of vintage pieces I’d been eyeing for months. A smile tugged at my lips as I replied. Every small victory in setting up the boutique felt like a step toward something normal.

As I worked, my thoughts drifted back to the encounter with Ivan. Adrenaline still throttled my veins. I wouldn’t let fear dictate my actions. Retro Rose Boutique was my future.

I picked up my phone and texted Claudia.

Just reviewed the designs. They look fantastic, but I have a few suggestions. Can we meet tomorrow to discuss them?

As we set up a meeting, I breathed easier. No matter what happened, I’d see this through. Hanging up, I started organizing the paperwork: invoices for merchandise, and contracts with suppliers. I ordered a grilled chicken salad for dinner and wolfed it down.

My phone buzzed.

I glanced at the screen.

Santino

How are you?

Answer me.

The phone’s screen felt like the only light in a freefall into hell.

I’m good. 3

What about you, handsome?

Santino

Still out.

Ooh. Handling business or causing trouble?

Santino

Both. Keeps life interesting.

Life with you is never dull. Not sure if that’s a good thing.

Santino

It’s only a problem if you can’t handle excitement.

Maybe I add a bit too much of that to your life…but you like it, don’t you?

Santino

You’re mine. I’ll decide what’s too much.

I smiled, warmth blooming inside me. Even through text, Santino’s words dripped with a dark intensity that thrilled me. After that messy fight with Ivan today, part of me was here for this— yes, claim me, protect me, kill for me.

I had to tell him about Ivan.

I typed a message on my phone, my fingers trembling.

When am I seeing you?

Santino

Whenever you want.

How about tonight?

His reply came a few seconds later.

Santino

I’ll send a car to your place.