Breaking Lucia by Raissa Donovan

1

Lucia

The bright lights blind me momentarily as I step inside the building. I blink, letting my eyes adjust, then I glance cautiously behind me. I half-expect Ciro or one of the others to be ten steps behind me, but the door stays blessedly closed.

Good.

The train station is large, the swell of commuters and tourists making it easy to get lost in the crowd. This many people constantly coming and going has had its toll on the station, and its age is evident from cracked floors and filthy walls. But it doesn't have to be fancy and new for my purposes.

All it has to do is get me the fuck away from this place, and I’ll be perfectly happy to spend the price of a ticket. More. Anything. I’d empty my father’s bank accounts if it meant being free of him.

It means leaving my mother and sister behind, but I can’t stay there anymore. I can’t.

I glance behind myself again before walking to the window, handing over cash for a last-minute ticket onto the train. I'm cutting it close, which makes me nervous. If I miss this train—or if it's late—it gives them time to figure out which of the ways I’ve chosen to run. I’ve paid for those alternative routes on my credit cards, though, so they can try to track me that way.

Plane—two locations, international and domestic.

Train—all the way across the country, to three different places.

Bus—as far as it’ll go.

But the clock is ticking, and the longer I’m away, the more time they have to discover that I’m gone and track me down. To discover that the charges on my credit card mean nothing, and that I have another plan entirely. Once they do… There will be hell to pay.

Thankfully, the train is only five minutes late, and I board it along with all the others wanting to leave town on a Friday evening. Going home after a long day of work, maybe, or starting their summer vacations. I avoid meeting anybody's eyes. I don't want to give them a reason to remember me.

I've dressed down, too. Normally I wouldn't be caught dead in ratty jeans or a baseball cap, my hair twisted up in a bun underneath it. I even bought a men's sweater to hide my form. If anybody sees me, they'll think I'm some skinny teen boy. The beat-up backpack and worn sneakers complete the look.

I look nothing like Lucia Bellini, daughter of a prominent mob boss.

It's not until I find a seat that I relax a fraction.

I made it. I actually fucking made it.

I squeeze my eyes closed tight, unsure of how that was even possible. Well, I had fucked Ciro senseless before I’d told him I was going to bed, so he’d probably been too sated to pay attention as I’d crept through the mansion. For all the guards we have, it would seem like someone would’ve been there.

Someone usually is.

If I believed in fate, I’d think this was meant to be. I’m not supposed to be stuck in that house, not supposed to be engaged to the terrifying asshole Daddy’s trying to curry favor with. I’m supposed to be free.

I’ve never been on my own before, and the thought is both exhilarating and terrifying. I’m not exactly street savvy, but I’m not an idiot, either. I pulled out enough cash to keep me going for a while, and I’m no stranger to hiding accounts from prying eyes.

I can do this.

“Excuse me, miss?”

My body jerks, and I look up to see a tall man with muscles bulging beneath the tight shirt he's wearing. He's got thick black hair, a scar on his temple, and a cruel smile. He looks dark, dangerous, like someone my father might hire.

Fuck.

Maybe they did find out after all. I’d thought I’d been so clever, buying myself a way out on the credit cards my father knew about and paying cash on the real way out, but obviously someone had caught my trail.

“Yes?” I ask, my heart pounding in my ears. We’re on a public train. He won’t cause a scene. He won’t try to drag me back. There are too many witnesses, and even with people’s willful blindness, they won’t let some man drag a screaming person off the train—especially at night.

The odds are in my favor, aren’t they? Then again, I’d thought that before, when I’d managed to escape the grounds and I’d been so damn sure I hadn’t been followed.

"I need you to come with me," he says. The badge he flashes at me is very shiny and threatening.

It's also very, very fake.

"On what grounds?" I ask, pulling my backpack closer to my chest. Maybe I can rush past him, but I see the second man behind him, waving at me with a much too friendly smile on his face.

"On the grounds of because I said so." He grabs my wrist, his grip so strong that I wince. "I don't advise making a scene, Ms. Bellini."

Shit.

I’d gotten so close. I’d gotten onto the train, the part I’d thought would be the hardest, only to get tracked down like an animal. What’s worse is that I don’t recognize either of these two men. My heart sinks like an anchor, dropping into my stomach all at once. What’s going on?

If these aren’t my father’s men…

Double shit.

"I'll scream," I threaten. I try to pull my hand away, but even if I were a gym-bunny—and I'm not—I wouldn't be able to compete with this man’s raw strength.

He rolls his eyes at me, then says loudly, “Your parents are very worried about you, Luke. Just wait until you’re eighteen if you want to run away to be with an older man.”

That draws the attention of several of the passengers. This isn’t good. My disguise has worked against me, and now everybody thinks I’m a teen runaway. If I protest or reveal myself, more security might get called in. Then I’ll be sent right back to Daddy.

The train was a bad idea after all. I should have rented a car.

I stand up and glare at the man—or try to, anyway. Damn, he’s tall. I have to crane my neck to look at him. His companion is only a few inches shorter than him. I stand no chance against these two in close quarters.

I should make a fuss, but these men are dangerous, and the last thing I need is to bring even more attention to us.

“Fine,” I say. “But when my father hears about this…” I have to hope these two don’t know why I’m on the train. I need them to fear my family—and I need them to think I’m just a weak, helpless girl. Men tend to underestimate me, assuming that I’m dumb and naïve. Let them think that. It makes them easier to manipulate.

“That’s a good girl,” the taller man says. He puts an arm around me and leads me off the train. There’s a threat in his embrace, and I know I won’t get far if I try to run here.

That doesn’t mean I stop thinking, though. There has to be a way out of this. If I can get the cap off and show the hair of someone who’s very obviously female and not a Luke, if I can get someone to realize his badge is bullshit… But no. Even while my mind is racing and trying to find a way out, he’s escorting me through the train station.

“Let go of me,” I hiss. I try to twist free of his grasp, but he only puts more pressure on my wrist. I bite my lip to keep from crying out, and I stumble. He catches me with ease.

People are looking in our direction, but he just holds up that badge and people only stare like this is the most interesting thing they’ve seen in ages. Some well-meaning bystander might’ve helped if it hadn’t been for that crappy thing, but they didn’t know the difference between a real badge and a fake one.

Not like me.

“No can do, Princess,” he tells me, pushing me out of the building and into the well-lit parking lot.

It’s hellish, but for a kidnapping, it could be a lot worse. So far, it’s almost… polite.

Maybe my father did send him. If so, I’m completely fucked.

If not, I’m also fucked.

The only way out of this is to get away from these two men, and I have no idea how to make that happen. I do know if he forces me into a car, I’m done for.

My captor’s smaller friend is a few steps ahead of us, pushing the button on the car keys to make it unlock. It’s now or never.

I kick my captor’s shin as hard as I can. I know my strength doesn’t compare to his, but shins are weak, and I’m in luck: he wasn’t expecting the attack. He yelps and loosens his hold.

I bolt. The adrenaline gives me the push I need. My backpack slaps my back as I run, and my breath starts to burn my throat, but I’m out of there. I’ve never run so fast in my life. Thank god I’m wearing sneakers and not heels. Fuck, I wish I’d been able to steal a gun before I’d taken off.

“Fuck! Grab her!”

I hear both of them chasing after me. If I can make it back into the station, I can get lost in the crowd. I’ll find another exit, hail a cab, steal a car, anything to get away from them.

I’m two steps away from the station entrance when one of them grabs my backpack and jerks me backward. I tumble into his arms. It’s the shorter man this time, but he’s just as jacked, and while I struggle against his hold, his friend grabs my wrists and cuffs them together behind my back.

“Let go!” I yell, kicking at random. They’re prepared for me this time, and Mr. Dark-and-Dangerous catches my ankle.

“We really didn’t want to do this the hard way,” he says. “Your father will probably want you alive, but does it have to be in one piece?”

I was right. They aren’t working for Daddy. If they were, they wouldn’t threaten physical harm.

I lash out again, for all the good it does, but my only other option is to make a scene. I have nothing to lose now. If I can get someone to pay attention… I try to give my head a good shake, to send the baseball cap to the ground and let my hair fall free and make it perfectly clear two men are assaulting a woman, but it doesn’t go anywhere.

There’s no crowd outside the train station, and it’s quiet.

It’s surreal, knowing that there are people who could be my saviors so close, but they’re so far away they might as well not exist at all.

And really, would anyone interfere?

I have to try.

The cuffs dig into my wrists, but I strain against them anyway, out of instinct more than anything.

“Help me!” I scream, but no one seems to hear me.

Or maybe they just don’t care.

But then I hear a third man approaching. “Hey!” His voice is sharp, and I look up to see a man in a security uniform.

Thank fuck.

I’m going to get out of this in one piece. I should’ve just tried to get help on the fucking train, but I hadn’t been willing to put anyone else in danger. This time? It’s only me and two thugs, with no one else around.

“What’s going on here?” He has something in his hands that doesn’t look like a gun. A taser, maybe?

I’m sure both of the guys on me are armed to the teeth, but will they really risk some sort of incident outside of a train station?

That fucking badge glints in the light as the tall, dark-featured asshole flashes it. “Apprehending a runaway, sir.”

“No, he isn’t,” I say, still struggling against them. “That’s not real. He’s not really a cop.”

The security guard hesitates, obviously trying to figure out who to believe. My life is in his hands, and he doesn’t even know it.

Well, maybe not my life—they won’t kill me, not if they want to use me against Daddy, but my well-being. Like he said before, they didn’t need me in one piece.

Fucking mobsters. They always have to be so goddamn melodramatic.

The other guy holds up a similar badge, and I want to groan. This has to be a joke.

Besides, there’s no way the security guard will believe that a man with a ring through his nose and a bar through his eyebrow could possibly be a cop. He’d have to be utterly stupid not to see through this charade now.

“Sorry for the scene, sir,” the blond says with a smile that would be charming if it didn’t belong to someone trying to kidnap me. “We’re just taking her down to the station so her daddy can pick her up.”

I shake my head, but again, my disguise works against me. I really do look like a runaway, and without makeup and the usual grace I can’t exactly display given the situation, I don’t look like a grown woman either.

Who says looking ageless was a good thing?

The security guard hesitates, and I see it when he decides to back off. He tucks the taser back away, and he takes a step back. “Sorry for interfering, officers. But you understand.”

I want to fucking scream. “If they were officers, don’t you think they’d be wearing uniforms?” I demand. “I’m not a runaway!” Except my voice cracks a little, because in the end, I guess I am a runaway.

In a way, I’m surprised that the guys with me have only pulled fake badges instead of guns, but I guess this is more of a scene than they even wanted. My father’s people will be around here asking questions, and it’ll be far harder to figure out that I had a run-in with a security guard than it would be if there was a shoot-out.

Then I feel it.

Mr. Tall, Dark, and Deadly has managed to place the barrel of a gun against the small of my back, right against my spine, and he whispers, “Is this really how you want to play this, Ms. Bellini? With the blood of a stranger on your hands? This is loaded, and I can shoot him before he even blinks.”

If I really push this, they might shoot me, and the idea of being paralyzed from a shot against my spine—assuming I’d even survive it—has my heart hammering even harder in my chest.

I can see the security guard’s hesitation, and he scans our faces.

But I already know I look defeated.

The guard takes a step back. “Have a good evening, gentlemen.”

The pressure of the gun against my back stays there as a silent threat, and I bite my tongue as the man lingers for just another moment before turning and heading inside.

My last hope dies with his exit.

“Now, that’s enough,” the blond says, turning around to face me as he tucks the fake badge away. He clucks his tongue, and I see the glint of a metallic piercing in it as well. “We were going to do this all peaceful, but no. You had to involve someone else.”

“Not like it matters,” I snap as the man holding me finally moves the gun. I feel it as he slips it away, but I don’t jerk against him again. I don’t want any gun accidents when he has the thing at point blank range. “You two jackasses cheated.”

To my surprise, the blond laughs, flashing dimpled cheeks at me. “Would you have been happier if we’d just shot him?”

Honestly? I wouldn’t have cared if it had helped me get away, but he’d had the gun on me, not the guard.

“That’s what we thought,” the dark-haired man rumbles against my ear. He jerks me toward the car they’d just unlocked. He opens the back door and shoves me inside, and there’s nothing I can do as he slides in behind me and slams the door.

The blond gets into the driver’s seat, and utter defeat takes over me. They got me into the car. This was the one thing I couldn’t let happen, and they’d managed it because of two fake police badges.

People are such gullible sheep, and that’s why I’m sitting in the back of a car with two men I don’t know who very obviously have nothing good in mind for me.

Fuck my life.