Page 23 of Manic

“My father is a retired architect—a casino owner,” I rasped, and shook my head. “He’s a family man, that’s⁠—”

An insane accusation, I wanted to say, but the visceral twisting of my stomach kept me silent—a crippling realization that I’d made a dire mistake all those years ago. I swallowed as sweat coated my brow. This wasn’t possible.

“Mm, not quite,” Manic breathed, and slid his hands into his sweat’s pockets. “A numbers architect, maybe, but not a real one. But we—” He pointed to Axell and Vince. “—are members of the Crimson Crowes, one of Vancouver's largest mafia organizations. And your father, Luka Hale, has been working for us since he bought those casinos ten years ago. There’s a large sum of money for your capture by another mafia—did you know that?”

He laughed and shook his head.

“No, of course you didn’t. Why would you?” Manic said sarcastically with a casual wave of his hand. “Your father had the opportunity to inform you of everything and chose not to. He risked your capture. I have orders to keep you alive and safe until Luka finishes the work we have for him.”

My father knew my capture was always a possibility and he’d said nothing? Why didn’t he go to the police? My pulse skyrocketed as doubt crawled through my veins; I was unsure what to believe as I stood frozen in the hallway.

The constant ping of my admirer’s texts entered my mind, reminding me of how I was followed for five years but had never seen his face. I didn’t even know his name. Was that the other mafia? Did they plan on kidnapping me?

Then Noah, all my friends, and everyone I’d left behind chased those thoughts, shortening my breath. I wanted to pursue my love for books, not this.

Was finishing my classes too much to ask? Was taking a simple job somewhere, away from my parents’ scrutiny, too much to wish for? And now I was in the middle of whatever my father had done, unable to go back to who I was before. Unable to chase those library dreams. No, I wasn’t safe here.

I was in the wolf’s den, preparing to be eaten.

Oh, I was definitely going to be sick.

Manic smiled. “You’re looking quite pale, Princess. Would you like to sit?”

“I—I don’t understand.”

Manic nodded, as if expecting my reaction. “Your capture was inevitable, whether it was by me or the Russians. But this way, I can keep you safe while informing you of what needs to happen for the time being.”

“I really won’t be leaving.”

“No, which is why it’s important that you cooperate.” Manic laughed quietly to himself, like this was all somehow amusing. Then he said, “Two million. That’s how much they put out for your capture. That’s quite a bit of money⁠—”

“Two million?” I staggered, bracing myself against the cold stone wall beside me.

I felt the blood drain from my face as stars clouded my vision, leaving me to blink profusely. To process. To keep me from passing the fuck out. Who would pay two million dollars for my capture? Was my father really involved with the mafia?

“I personally would’ve paid more.” Manic shrugged, dragging his eyes over me before meeting my gaze once more.

Goosebumps pebbled my skin, my face warming as I realized that last night's dress still clung to me. All too small, all too revealing.

I hugged myself and held back a shudder, aware of all three of their gazes. Vince tracked my hands, his attention lingering on my chest. Manic pivoted toward him with a tight jaw, his teeth grinding so hard I was amazed they didn't shatter.

Then Manic swiveled back to me and jerked his chin toward the kitchen. “Why don’t you find your way back to your room and change, Sutton. We can discuss this once you’re properly dressed, hm?”

A cold numbness settled over me.

I didn’t even have an ounce of fight left to give him, unsure of what to feel or how to process any of this. Manic had to be lying, right? My father wouldn’t have been able to hide something like this for so long—for years. Did my mother know?

Though now, I was all too conscious of how my body trembled, the sting behind my eyes almost blinding as I refused to believe Manic’s words. Stinging because I wouldn’t be leaving this penthouse as I was now Manic’s captive for the foreseeable future. And no one, not even my admirer, knew that I was missing.

How the fuck would I get out of this?

I was trapped, but my cooperation might be the only way I’d eventually get free. With a small nod, I mindlessly turned and exited the hallway, my bare feet padding against the cold marble.

Manic’s low voice brushed the air once I entered the kitchen, his tone filled with nothing but feral warning. Hair rose on my arms, his words causing my pulse to drum.

“If you so much as look at her that way again, I’ll blow your fucking brains out,” Manic growled. “Is that clear?”

“Yes, Boss,” Vince said as I descended my hallway.