Chapter 2

My blood ran ice cold. I turned and walked back to the bedroom without making a sound. 

The next morning came. I was staring at the ceiling when I felt the mattress dip. Val leaned over, aiming for my forehead—our morning ritual for the past twelve years. 

I jerked my head away. 

His lips met empty air. He looked at me with wide, wounded eyes, sliding his arms around my waist and burying his face in my neck. 

"Sera? Are you mad at me?" His voice trembled. "Please don't push me away. You know I can't survive without you."

My arms remained flat at my sides. I didn't say a word.

An hour later, we arrived at the family’s medical center for his check-up. 

"Wait in the lobby, baby," Val said, kissing my knuckles. "I'll be quick."

The second he disappeared down the hall, I slipped out the side doors and crossed the courtyard to the psychiatric wing. 

My therapist, Elowen Thorne, reviewed my charts. Her brow furrowed into a tight knot. 

"Sera, this isn't working anymore," Elowen said, tapping her pen against the desk. "Your body is building a massive tolerance to the meds. If you don't check into an in-patient facility right now, you're going to hurt yourself. You could die."

"I can't be locked in a hospital," I said flatly. "Just write me a new prescription. Stronger."

Elowen sighed, knowing she couldn't force me. She handed over the slip. 

I picked up the pills from the pharmacy and headed back to Val’s clinic room. 

The door was cracked open. I didn't knock.

Lilith was on her knees. Her hands were tangled in Val’s dark hair as she pulled him down into a filthy kiss. 

I kicked the door open. It slammed against the wall with a deafening crack. 

Before either of them could react, I lunged. I grabbed a fistful of Lilith’s blonde hair and yanked her backward. She shrieked as she hit the floor. 

"You filthy bitch!" I screamed. 

Val jumped up. In that split second, the nineteen-year-old boy vanished entirely. 

He grabbed the heavy crystal vase off the doctor's desk and swung it. 

Crack. 

The vase exploded against my forehead. 

Pain blinded me. My knees buckled. I collapsed onto the cold tiles, warm blood pouring down my face, stinging my eyes. 

The sight of my blood seemed to snap a switch in Val’s brain.

"Sera!" Val dropped to his knees, his hands hovering over my bleeding head, shaking violently. "Oh my god, Sera! Doctor! Get in here!"

My vision blurred. The world spun out of focus as staff rushed into the room. 

I drifted into a semi-conscious state. The room was dark. But my hearing was crystal clear. 

Val and Dr. Marino were standing a few feet from my bed. 

"She's stable, Don Val. Just a mild concussion and a nasty cut," Dr. Marino said. 

"Pump her with sedatives," Val’s voice was dead calm. "Use the hypnotics. Keep pushing them until she forgets everything that happened in that room today."

A needle pierced my IV line. 

Val didn't know that the heavy doses of extreme antidepressants I had been taking for months completely neutralized the chemical agents in the hypnotics. 

I didn't forget a damn thing. When I finally opened my eyes, the lights were on. Val was sitting in a chair beside the bed. His eyes were bloodshot. A tear rolled down his cheek the second he saw me awake. 

"Thank God," he choked out, grabbing my hand and pressing it to his lips. "Sera, baby. I was so scared. A loose glass chandelier fell in the hallway. It clipped your head. I thought I lost you."

I looked at his tear-stained face. He deserved a fucking Oscar. 

"A chandelier," I whispered. 

"Yeah," he sniffled. "But you're okay now. Let's get out of here. I booked the penthouse at the Manhattan Plaza. Just us. You need to relax."

I didn't argue. I let him lead me out to the car. 

We arrived at the hotel an hour later. We walked into the grand lobby toward the VIP elevators. 

Just as the metal doors slid open, Val’s phone rang. 

He glanced at the screen and frowned. "Go ahead, baby. It's the capos. I have to take this. I'll catch the next car."

He stepped back. I walked into the empty elevator. 

Right as the doors began to close, three massive men in dark suits shoved their way inside. 

The doors sealed shut. The elevator shot upward. 

Suddenly, the car jerked violently. The brakes ground together with a horrible screech. We stopped dead in the middle of the shaft. 

Then, the lights cut out. Pitch black. 

The air vanished from my lungs. My PTSD flared. The walls felt like they were crushing me. I couldn't breathe. 

In the dark, rough hands grabbed my shoulders. 

I tried to scream, but a thick, sweaty palm clamped over my mouth. 

Riiiip. 

Someone tore my silk blouse open. Cold air hit my bare skin. 

Flashbulbs started going off. 

"Hold her still," a gruff voice grunted. "I need a clear shot of her chest."

"Don Val doesn't fuck around," another man laughed, his breath hot against my neck. "He knows she's terrified of tight, dark spaces. Stopped the whole elevator just to get these."

"All this to keep that lawyer bitch happy?" the third man sneered. "Crazy. But hey, he tossed her to the Gallos years ago. What's a few naked pictures now?"

The flashes kept firing. 

I thrashed. I kicked wildly. Tears streamed down my face, mixing with the dried blood on my forehead.