Chapter 6 The Cost Of Loyalty

• Lana’s POV
• I jog through the quiet streets; with everything going on, I couldn’t get proper sleep. It’s barely 6 a.m. One more day. Just one more day until I move in with Charles again.
• It’s all I’ve ever wanted—to go back to the feeling of safety, of belonging. Living with him was the closest I’d ever felt to having a family. Feeling loved. And now, after everything, I’ll have that again.
• The thought makes me smile as I round the corner, but my smile disappears when I notice something strange—a black SUV just right behind me. At first, I thought it’s a coincidence. Maybe someone is heading to work early.
• But every turn I make, it makes too.
• I slow my pace, my heart is racing. Are they following me?
• I decide to test it, taking an abrupt turn down a different street. The SUV hesitates for a split second, then follows. Oh my goodness.
• I take another route, a shortcut through a smaller road, and glance over my shoulder. The SUV speeds up, cutting me off before I can react.
• The tires screech as the vehicle comes to a stop, and before I can even think about running, a man steps out.
• "Get in," he orders.
• Every instinct screams at me to run, to fight, to do anything but listen. But then he pulls out a gun, pointing it directly at me.
• “Don’t make me repeat myself,” he says.
• I freeze. My voice and body begins trembling as I step closer to the SUV.
• “Please,” I stammer. “Who are you? What do you want?”
• He smirks faintly, and his grip on the gun is steady. “A very powerful man wants retribution.”
• He grabs my arm, shoving me into the car. And the door slams shut. Before I can say anything else, he blindfolds me. A gag follows, muffling my speech.
• Fear grips me as the SUV moves forward, taking me God knows where.
• —-
• The car begins to slow down. I sit still, blindfolded and gagged, with my heart beating rapidly. I have no idea where they are taking me, but one thing is clear—I am trapped.
• The car jerks to a stop, and I hear the front door slam. A second later, the rear door opens, and rough hands yank me out.
• "Let me go!" I mumble through the gag, thrashing against his grip, but my captor only tightens his hold. He is strong, merciless, and seems to enjoy my struggle.
• "Easy with her Luca," says a commanding voice from nearby.
• "Apologies, Capo," the man gripping me mutters, his tone is instantly subdued.
• He drags me into a building—I can feel the shift in the air, the cold floor beneath my feet. I hear the click of a chair being pulled out before I am forced into it. The rope tightens around my wrists and ankles, biting into my skin as he binds me.
• "Help! Somebody help me!" I scream, panicking.
• "Leave," the voice commands.
• It seems my captor obeys, as I hear his footsteps retreating until the door is shut behind him. I am alone now, or so I thought.
• "Good morning, Lana," a deep, velvety voice says, breaking the silence. My heart skips a beat. "Or should I say… Felicity?"
• The name hit me like a slap to the face. My mind races, connecting the dots, and then it clicks. That voice. I know that voice. The man I had sold out. The man who was arrested because of me.
• Ricardo Borrelli.
• I swallow hard. I am terrified. I heighten my scream, pouring every ounce of desperation into it.
• "Don’t bother," Ricardo says mockingly. "This place is soundproof. No one can hear you."
• I freeze, and my scream fades into a whimper. Tears sting my eyes as his footsteps draw closer.
• "Scared?" he asks, and I can feel the heat of his breath on my face. His hands run slowly along my cheek, mockingly gentle, before gripping my chin and yanking my face upward.
• "Look at me," he growls, ripping off the blindfold.
• My eyes blink against the sudden light, and then I see him—Ricardo Borrelli in all his fury. His dark eyes drill into mine. They are cold and malicious, and his jaw is clenched so tight I think it might shatter.
• Tears well up in my eyes. His anger is evident, and I am at its center.
• He leans in closer, and his lips curls into a smile that carries no warmth. "Was it worth it, Lana? Selling me out? Putting me in cuffs? Because now…" he pauses, brushing a tear from my cheek, "you’re mine."
• My heart sinks. Is this the end?
• My breaths come hard and fast, and my chest is rising and falling. Fear grips me, but I force myself to stay calm. I need to understand how the hell Ricardo came to the conclusion that I sold him out. Does he know about Charles? Is that why I’m here? I have to find out.
• My wrists ache from the tight ropes binding me to the chair, but I barely notice. My mind is spinning. I lock eyes with Ricardo, refusing to let him see the terror I feel.
• “We fucked,” I say with a shaky but firm voice. “I was genuinely concerned for you. You told me things, let me in. Yet somehow, I sold you out? And for what?” I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. “Do you see me in designer clothes? Do I look like someone who cashed out on your downfall?”
• His expression remains unreadable, but his jaw tightens.
• “Ask your guy,” I say, nodding towards the door where the man—Luca—dragged me in from. “Ask him where he found me. What kind of fucking neighborhood I was jogging in?” My voice rises, filled with anger. “A fucking shack of a neighborhood! That’s where.”
• Ricardo moves so fast I barely see it coming. His hand wraps around my throat, cutting off my air in an instant.
• “Don’t fucking sit here and lie to me,” he snarls.
• I gasp, struggling against his grip, but his hold is firm. I tried to release myself from his bindings, but it’s useless.
• His eyes burn with fury as he leans in. His grip tightens just enough to make me lightheaded but not enough to kill me.
• “If your real name is Lana Denver,” he says, “why the fuck did you tell me your name was Felicity?”
• My head spins from the lack of air. I choke out. And just when I think I might pass out, he lets go. I slump forward, gasping for air, coughing violently as my lungs burn.
• I need to think fast. If he finds out the truth, I’m dead. I look up at him, forcing myself to meet his gaze. I have to lie so smooth it almost feels real.
• “I’m a stripper,” I say, still coughing. “That’s my stripper name.”
• Ricardo doesn’t react right away. His eyes search my face, and for a moment, I think he might believe me. But then he smirks.
• “Bullshit.”
• I stiffen.
• “I’ve been with plenty of strippers,” he says coldly. “You want names? Selena. Ivy. Roxie. Celine. Nova.” He lists them off effortlessly and mockingly. “Not a single one of them has ever needed a fake name.”
• I don’t say a word. I won’t break. I won’t tell him that I was the one who sold him out to Charles.
• I remain loyal.
• Even though I know the cost of that loyalty.