The Marriage Debt (De Vos Mafia #2)(51)

The collar is still there, but at least I’m no longer chained to the bed.

I’m not staying here for another second.

When I’ve put on some shoes, I open the door and peer outside. The penthouse seems empty, and I don’t see Luca anywhere. But I can hear the shower running.

No time like now.

I search every nook and cranny of the penthouse until I finally find a spare key hidden underneath a crown in his bookcase.

The same crown I once wore when my sister, Luca, and I played back when we were young.

Did my parents give him this too?

I gaze at it for a moment, contempt filling my heart.

After tormenting me for so many years, of course he’d keep this as a memento.

I throw it away and use the key to open the front door and sprint through the hallway. I don’t go to the elevator. Too much time. They’ll catch me down in the hall. No, I take the stairs, jumping several flights as I make my way to the bottom floor of the building.

A rush of excitement forces energy through my bones. I know it’s not right. I know I made a vow, but I don’t care. I’ll find a way to get my sister out of my parents’ claws and bring her somewhere safe. Maybe Easton can help hide her too, and then we can both run together.

I nod to myself as I jump the final flight of stairs and burst out the door. The front door is unguarded. Only one person sits at the front desk, and she stares at me with blank eyes like she can’t believe I’m actually here.

Then she picks up a phone.

I run like hell through the revolving doors and out into the open, out … into freedom.





Chapter 21





Jill



* * *



For fifteen minutes, I’ve been running through the city with no idea where I am and not a clue where I’m headed. I thought I knew where Luca lived, but I was wrong. This place seems so unfamiliar to me, and I don’t have a phone to check a map because Luca took it. I could ask someone, but I’m too scared they’re in some way connected to the De Vos family or mine. I can’t risk getting caught.

I’m wandering aimlessly through the city. Shadows lurk in every corner, freaking me out.

Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to run without being prepared.

When it feels like one of the shadows begins to follow me, I ramp up the pace.

My heart is racing in my chest as I flee from whoever’s following me, hoping no one will find me. But if I know Luca well enough, he has spies all over the city.

Never alone, never really free, even when I run.

Still, I run harder, and harder, and harder.

No matter how out of breath it makes me, no matter how much my feet start to hurt from the high heels on my soles, and no matter how exhausted I get, I keep running. Because running is the only thing that reminds me of being alive.

And I will live, goddammit.

I head into an alley down the road. I have to find a street that I recognize so I can find my way around and make an escape. Or better yet, find any of Easton’s establishments and hide inside until I can contact him there and ask him to help me get my freedom back.

Bolstered by the mere idea, I rush through the alley and come out on a street near the docks. There aren’t many people here, and the grimy look of the buildings gives me the creeps.

Still, I push on because that shadow was still behind me.

What if he’s one of Luca’s spies?

I have to shake him off.

I run across the street to the harbor and follow the road up to a warehouse that’s lit. Maybe I can go inside and find someone to lend me their phone. Then I can call Easton and find a safe harbor. Then get my sister.

But when I open a door, there’s nothing but a few crackheads smoking around a dim light, and when they all gaze up and notice me, I freeze.

“Uh …”

I feel like I stumbled into a private meeting.

This isn’t the best idea I had.

“What the fuck doe jij hier?” one of them says in Dutch.

What the fuck are you doing here?

“Sorry, wrong building,” I mutter.

When I turn around, someone blocks my way. A junkie with matted hair, torn clothes, and a mean look on his face makes me stumble back.

“Hmm … English, huh?” he says. When I attempt to pass him, he keeps blocking me. “Hey now, no need to leave,” he says, blowing out smoke in my face until I cough. “Want a drag?”

“No, thanks,” I say, trying to stay friendly. “I got lost, that’s all.”

“Lost?” One of the crackheads in the back laughs. “We’re all lost in here, girl. Come take a drag. We won’t bite.”

“Ja, we bijten niet,” another one says in Dutch, which means the same thing.

“No, thanks. I’d like to leave,” I say, but he refuses to let me open the door.

Fuck.

I don’t like where this is going.

“C’mon, sit down. We could use a little company from a girl like you,” he says, looking up and down my dress like he’s never seen anything like it before. “You look like you can afford some time off.”

One in the back opens his mouth. “Hey, vind je haar niet lijken op die mafia gasten? Je weet wel … De Vos en Baas.”

My eyes widen.