Keeping My Captive: A Dark Mafia Enemies to Lovers Captive Romance (Keeping What’s Mine Book 3)

Keeping My Captive: Chapter 13



THE NEXT SEVERAL days pass by in a blur. I’m barely coherent or awake for more than a few minutes every few hours. The pain when I wake up is excruciating; and every time I open my eyes, the man responsible for that pain is there. Always waiting. Always watching. Never leaving my side.

As soon as I wake up, groaning in pain, he’s there to shove a pill into my mouth and force me to swallow some kind of broth. The pill is nasty, but the broth tastes good; just like the chicken soup my mom used to give me when I was a little girl whenever I was sick. It gives me some semblance of peace when I slurp up the broth just before I pass out again.

I try to talk to Mateo, to ask him why he’s doing this, why he’s helping me, but my words come out in gibberish and slurred beyond recognition. I don’t know what he’s giving me, but I welcome the peace and the escape from the pain.

The next time I wake up and I’m semi-coherent, the pain feels just like a dull, throbbing ache. And so, I refuse the pill he tries putting in my mouth. “No,” I grumble, pushing away his hand.

“How is your pain?” he asks.

My eyes open and narrow into slits as I stare up at him. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed in his black designer suit, acting like he gives a crap about me when, in reality, he’s responsible for all of this. All of the pain I’ve been experiencing is because of him.

“How is your pain, Aria?” he asks, more forcefully this time.

“Not that bad,” I confess.

“Good, good,” he says with a nod before standing. “If you need anything for pain,” he starts, but I don’t let him finish.

“I hate you,” I whisper. Once the words are out of my mouth, I almost wish I could take them back. A fissure of terror courses through my veins, and my eyes dart up to his, fearful of his reaction.

“I know,” he simply says with a nod.

He knows? I guess I haven’t been exactly hiding my contempt for him. I’m sure it’s been written all over my face. I’ve always been told my poker face is less than stellar. Well, since I’m already pressing my luck, I decide to push even further. “I…I want to call my family,” I demand. It’s the least he can do considering what I just went through. When I see him hesitate, I quickly think up a lie and tell him, “My mom…she’s sick. I need to make sure she’s all right.”

Mateo’s gaze sears into mine, searching for the deception. I keep my face lax and neutral, hoping that he won’t see right through me. “Okay,” he says after an excruciatingly long time.

“Okay?” I say in disbelief. A huge sense of relief and hope blooms inside of my chest. I know my brother has technology on his phone that can track the call and find my whereabouts. If I make that call, maybe they can get me out of here. “Thank you,” I tell him, laying it on thick.

He gets up and walks out of the room, only to return a few minutes later with a phone that looks like an old walkie-talkie.

“It’s a satellite phone,” he explains.

I bite my lower lip as I wonder internally if that means it can’t be traced. Well, I guess I have no other choice but to try and find out. It’s not like he’s going to offer me his personal cell phone, which I’m sure is locked with a code that would take me a million tries to figure out anyway.

He pushes a few buttons on the device and then hands it to me. “Just punch in the phone number,” he says.

I stare at him, wondering if he’ll give me some privacy. But when he just stands there with no indication of moving anytime soon, I let out a resigned sigh. His eyes are narrowed, watching me carefully as I dial my brother’s cell phone digits. When I hear the call connect and begin to ring, tears fill my eyes. “It’s ringing,” I whisper in relief. Please, Nico. Please answer, I beg inwardly.

“Hello?” my brother answers on the fourth ring.

“Nico. It’s me,” I say, keeping my voice as calm as I can even though I’m screaming on the inside for help. With Mateo staring me down, I need to keep the phone call as normal as I can so that he doesn’t get wind of my deceit.

“Aria?” Nico says in disbelief. “Where are you?” he demands. I can hear him shuffling his phone around, and I know that he’s trying to help me by tracing this call. I just need to stay on the line and not break down.

“I’m safe,” I lie, my eyes drifting to Mateo. He’s still watching me, scrutinizing every word, every movement I make. I wonder if he can see the sweat building up on my forehead or the way my lips are trembling. Maybe he’ll just chalk it up to excitement and not the fact that I’m trying so hard right now to not yell out to my brother to help me.

“What happened? How can I find you?” Nico presses.

“I’m okay,” I say vaguely. “How are mom and dad doing?” I ask him.

I normally don’t believe in miracles; but in that moment, I do, when Mateo’s cell phone begins to vibrate. Grumbling, he pulls the phone from his pocket and stares at the screen. His eyes flash in warning before he slowly walks out of the room, leaving me alone.

“No one is going to be okay until you’re home,” Nico tells me, and I can hear the anguish in his tone. “Please, give me any information you can, but only do it if you’re going to be safe,” he carefully instructs me.

“Remember how I always wanted to go to Mexico?” I ask him, my eyes searching the doorway that Mateo just walked out of, fearing he’ll come back any second. “It’s really beautiful here.”

Nico hesitates, but I know he’s picking up on the clues I’m giving him. I just nonchalantly gave him my location, but I know it’s not enough. I don’t know how much more I can give him; however, without getting caught, but I know I need to do my best. My brother is my only hope at this point.

“Are you okay?” he finally asks.

My body begins to tremble with anxiety when I think about everything that has transpired between the night at the club until now. Memories of Constantine, the kidnapping, the assaults, the auction, the whipping, everything hits me at all once like a freight train. “No,” I say, my voice breaking on a sob. I can’t hold it together anymore. I was being so strong, but I’m tired of being strong. It feels so good to hear a familiar voice, and I just want to be home so badly. I want that more than anything. I want to wake up in my own bed and realize this whole thing was just a terrible, cruel nightmare.

He hushes me on the other end, and I try to quiet myself down. “Describe where you are. Are you in a house or an apartment?” he asks.

“It’s big, secluded. Lots of men with weapons,” I whisper.

“What else can you tell me, Aria?” he demands, needing more.

“I…” Mateo appears in the doorway, his eyes automatically glued to me. I’m sure he can see the change in my demeanor and the expression on my face.

He walks towards me, a frown marring his features. “Time’s up. Give me the phone, Aria,” Mateo commands, holding out his hand.

He’s going to take away my only lifeline, my only chance to get out of here. And so I shout out quickly, “I was sold to a man!” If I wasn’t panicking before, I’m truly panicking now. “Please, help me, Nico!” I cry into the phone to my brother. “His name is Mateo, and he’s —.”

My captor finally wrestles the phone out of my vice grip, cutting my words off abruptly. I try to grab for the phone, but my efforts prove futile. He’s so much bigger and stronger than I am.

“We’re going to find you, Aria. We’re not going to stop looking for you! Do you understand me?” I hear Nico screaming into the phone right before Mateo ends the call.

I sit there, my panicked breaths the only sound in the quiet room for a long time before Mateo finally asks, “Is your mother actually sick, or was that just a lie?”

His eyes are boring holes into me as I confess in a whisper, “A lie.”

Mateo slowly nods his head. After a while, he finally says, “You better hope they never find you, Aria. Because the moment they step foot onto my compound, they will be killed.” For the final blow, he adds, “And I’ll make sure you watch them die from the consequences of your actions.”

And then he walks out of the room, leaving me a quivering, sobbing mess.


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