Seven Years in Hell: Escaping the Don Chapter 04
They must be auditory hallucinations. Just my brain misfiring from oxygen deprivation.
The man who’d just shoved me into the path of a bullet would never cry over a disposable blood bag.
I let my eyes fall shut, plunging completely into the dark.
By the time I clawed my way back to consciousness, three days had passed. The morphine left my limbs heavy.
Over by the window, Don Vincenzo sat in a wingback chair,
resting both hands on his silver–tipped cane.
“You took a bullet for this syndicate. You have suffered
immensely, child,” the old man rasped, “Name your price.
Alimony, an estate anywhere in the world… The Family will
grant it.”
I stared up at the clinical ceiling. My throat felt like I’d
swallowed hot coals.
“Don,” I breathed. “If you truly wish to compensate me… honor
the promise you made days ago.”
The old man’s thumb froze. He let out a heavy sigh. “I
understand. But Domenico is acting like a complete madman. He
will never sign a document letting you walk away. However…
rest assured. I will handle it.”
The words barely left his mouth when the heavy hospital door
was kicked open, slamming against the drywall.
“What the hell… did you just say you want me to sign?”
Domenico stormed in, radiating lethal energy. He didn’t even
glance my way, addressing Vincenzo directly. “Grandfather, the outside needs your presence. Leave this to me.”
Vincenzo leaned on his cane and exited without a word.
The moment the door clicked shut, Domenico lunged. He twisted his fists into the collar of my hospital gown, violence roiling in his gray–green eyes. “What were you trying to make him sign?!”
I stared back. The excruciating pain from my shattered collarbone and the fresh gunshot wound had vanished. So had
the fear.
That bullet was supposed to be the bargaining chip for my freedom.
“Domenico!” A shrill scream pierced the corridor.
Elena burst in, stilettos clicking frantically. She was deathly pale.
“The Palermo arms route was ambushed! Five capos dead!
Someone leaked my encrypted comms!”
Domenico’s head snapped around.
Watching him stiffen, I knew exactly what this meant.
Losing a top–tier comms device broadcasted to the entire Family that their new Donna was a lethal liability. The bosses would
demand blood.
Elena pointed a shaking finger at me. “It’s her! She must have stolen the comms when she bumped into me! She wants me
dead!”
A suffocating silence fell. During the banquet ambush, Domenico had dragged me into the crossfire as a human shield. I‘ d spent the last three days bleeding out in a coma. When exactly
would I have had the chance to steal her comms?
But in Domenico’s eyes, I saw only cold pragmatism.
To protect Elena and pacify the capos, he needed a scapegoat. He didn’t even glance at the blood blooming through my bandages.
“Lock her in the East Wing meat locker. No one lets her out
without my orders.”
I offered no tears, no defense. The guards hauled me up like a corpse. The jagged edges of my fractured collarbone ground into muscle, but I didn’t flinch.
As they dragged me past him, Domenico’s voice lacked all warmth. “Take the hit for now. I’ll bring you out when the dust settles.”
Twelve hours of sub–zero hell.
In the freezing darkness, my freshly stitched gunshot wound didn’t tear open–the seeping blood instantly froze into solid ice. Frost coated my lashes, my hair, the very lining of my lungs.
It wasn’t until my heart was on the verge of stopping that the guards finally dumped me onto a bed in the underground clinic.
Consciousness returned through voices echoing down the metal air vent.
“Are you insane? What if the cold makes her barren?” Elena’s voice was laced with guilty panic. “I left the comms at the casino.
Couldn’t a low–level grunt take the fall?”
A lighter clicked. Domenico exhaled, his tone chillingly rational.
“I know you lost it. But five capos are dead. Pinning it on the ‘
scorned former Donna‘ ensures the bosses won’t question you. She was the perfect scapegoat.”
After a brief pause, Elena’s voice softened, though an edge of bitterness remained.
“You always protect me… but if you want an heir so badly, why
not dispose of that half–dead bitch? I’m not actually barren. I only faked those medical records to avoid being used as a pawn
by the Commission. I’d endure the pain to give you a child…”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Domenico replied, his tone brooking no
argument. “Childbirth is a risk I won’t let you take. She handles
pain like a stray animal. It suits her. She’s nothing but a breeding vessel.”
Elena giggled, her relief obvious. “You’re so good to me. Just like seven years ago, when you drugged her drink so I could take her
place.”
“Keep your voice down,” Domenico snapped, a warning edge to his words. “That’s in the past. Just like her father’s federal leak. I only fed the feds his money–laundering files as leverage to clip her wings. I didn’t tell the old man to swallow a bullet.”
Beneath the vent, the world went dead silent.
A violent shudder racked my frozen body as the missing puzzle pieces finally snapped together. The encrypted ledger my North American loyalists sent me last month. The unnatural speed of the federal raid.
He drugged me. He framed my father and pushed him to suicide.
Staring at the mildewed ceiling, every ounce of humiliation and
rage crystallized into freezing apathy. I’d been naive to think guilt would eventually make him sign the divorce papers. Domenico never let anyone leave alive.
If he would never let me leave alive, then a corpse was exactly
what I needed to become.
The heavy iron door of the clinic suddenly pushed open.
Domenico walked in. Immaculate in his tailored suit, he was a
stark, cruel contrast to my blood–soaked sheets. Catching sight of my open eyes, his frown smoothed into an air of
magnanimous grace.
“The doctor said you were awake,” he said, standing over my
bed and adjusting his cuffs. “The punishment is over. Recover quickly. Tomorrow, I’ll have the nanny bring Luca down to keep
you company…”
I stared up at him from the filthy mattress, my heart entirely
hollow. “Domenico, arrange a hysterectomy for me.”
His hand froze on his cufflink. His face darkened instantly. ”
What the hell did you just say?”
“I said,” my voice was flat and entirely devoid of emotion, “I will never birth another monster carrying your toxic blood for this
Family ever again.”
Raw fury erupted in Domenico’s eyes. He lunged over the hospital bed, his hand lashing out to crush my throat. Completely ignoring my splintered collarbone, he pinned me violently against the metal railing.
“The cold froze your goddamn brain!” he snarled, barking at ruthless order at the clinic guards by the door. “Throw her in the submersion cell! Nobody lets her take a breath without my
permission!”
Sensory deprivation, the sheer terror of drowning–it was a
classic mob tactic to utterly break a prisoner’s sanity.
As the guards hauled me out of the clinic and shoved my head violently into the murky water of the cell, I didn’t thrash or
struggle like I had done countless times over the past seven years.
I kept my eyes open, staring into the dark depths. I relaxed every nerve. And then, I willingly opened my mouth.
Freezing water flooded my lungs. If flatlining was the only ticket out of this estate, then I would gladly play the part.
A cold body meant the morgue. And the morgue meant a body bag heading out the gates.
I let the dark water pull me under. Once my heart stopped, I would finally be free.