Seven Years in Hell: Escaping the Don Chapter 05
The moment consciousness returned, the freezing rush of water overwhelming my senses was gone. In its place was a steady, low hum.
No maddening darkness of the water cell. No tearing agony of water flooding my lungs.
I forced my eyes open. A cashmere blanket cocooned me, the EKG monitor beside the bed emitting a steady beep.
The man in the plush leather seat across from me wasn’t a Moretti. It was Victor–head of my old North American syndicate, secretly summoned days ago via a burner stashed in my mattress.
“You really brushed death this time, Boss.” Seeing me stir, Victor slid a steaming cup of tea toward me. His hardened features betrayed a mix of awe and lingering dread.
“You won the bet. We intercepted your body bag at the estate morgue’s rear exit. As planned, we swapped you for a Jane Doe- shattered collarbone, face pulverized. The Moretti guards suspected nothing.”
He nudged a crisp new passport toward the saucer. “We’ve cleared airspace. Direct to North America. Spotless identity, offshore accounts, and top medical care waiting. As of today,
Domenico’s wife ceases to exist.”
I took a deep breath, cradling the cup. My fingertips still twitched from the resuscitation. Outside the cabin window,
unfiltered sunlight at thirty thousand feet pierced my vision, blindingly bright.
No euphoria of survival. No thrill of revenge. Not a single tear.
I simply took a sip of the warm tea, letting it soothe a throat raw from drowning. Then, I closed my eyes again.
Seven years of hell were finally over.
Meanwhile, in the Moretti nursery, newborn Luca suddenly let out a piercing wail. The unprovoked shriek made Domenico’s fingers jerk around his cigar.
Elena frowned, slamming her coffee cup down. “That shrieking is giving me a migraine. Leo never fussed like this. He probably inherited his mother’s tainted blood…”
“Enough.” Domenico’s expression darkened instantly. “She nearly bled out in a basement clinic to give you this son. Show
some respect.”
“If he bothers you so much, I’ll send him down to the basement right now. You already have your perfect heir.”
Elena’s face drained. She frantically scooped up the wailing
infant to salvage the situation. “Domenico, I’m just venting! I treat him like my own. How could I resent him?”
Bizarrely, the more she rocked him, the more hysterical Luca’s
cries became–as if gripped by primal terror.
Listening to the desperate wails, Domenico felt his heart violently seize. An inexplicable dread crawled up his spine.
Luca was crying too unnaturally. Had something happened to the woman in the water cell?
Once the thought took root, it grew like a weed in his mind,
pulling every nerve in his body taut.
“Put the child down. I’m going to the basement to check on her.”
Domenico turned to leave, but Elena grabbed the cuff of his
tailored suit with a death grip. “Don’t go!”
“Domenico, I’ve had enough! I regret giving her the title of Mrs.
Moretti! I’m tired of stealing her babies to play house!” Elena’s
eyes were bloodshot, her voice shrill. “Divorce her! Get rid of
her! I should be your rightful wife!”
“Don’t be absurd!” Domenico ruthlessly swatted her hand away.
Elena stumbled back in utter disbelief.
Noting her pathetic state, his tone softened slightly, but his eyes
remained icy. “Never bring this up again. The arrangement
stands. It’s for the best.”
Yes, marrying that woman had been a cold, calculated move. At first, he found her hysterical defiance nothing but a nuisance.
But just seconds ago, when Elena spat the words “get rid of her“, it felt as though a chunk of his heart had been physically carved out, leaving an agonizing ache.
In truth, after seven years, she had become his addiction. Even as she retreated into the shell of a soulless marionette, he was accustomed to keeping her locked safely within his domain.
Maybe her refusal to fight back when she sank into the freezing water had just been a childish tantrum to spite him…
Domenico secretly breathed a sigh of relief. He would go down to the cell himself. He would fish her out of the icy water, pull
her into his arms, and properly soothe her. He would tell her that, as a reward, she could keep and raise Luca herself.
The moment she heard those words, she would dissolve into
tears of joy and forgive him for everything, just like she always did.
Decision made, Domenico ignored Elena behind him and strode out of the nursery, taking the stairs two at a time to reach the
underground cell.
But the water cell was completely drained.
The only thing left was a blinding smear of blood, a drag mark
that stretched all the way into the depths of the corridor.
The hallway leading to the private autopsy room was mortally
silent, the air thick with an unbearable, suffocating stench of copper.
Domenico roughly shoved open the partially ajar iron door, his gaze freezing instantly.
Under the harsh, clinical fluorescence, Vincenzo sat in a chair, both hands resting on his cane. Beside him, the resident physician knelt on the frigid tiles, shaking like a leaf.
On the floor lay only a pool of grotesque, congealed blood and the drag marks. The woman who was supposed to be serving her punishment in the water cell was nowhere to be found.
Panic ballooned in his chest. Forcing down the ice in his veins, Domenico stretched his lips into a rigid smile. “Grandfather.
What brings you down here?”
“Where is Isabelle? Did she play the martyr too well and get
herself rushed to the ER?”
Vincenzo slowly raised his head. His ancient eyes bore a bone- chilling frost.
The smile vanished from Domenico’s lips. “What is that supposed to mean? She leaked the family’s secure comms
network. I threw her in the water cell as a slap on the wrist. Don‘
t tell me she ran to you crying foul?”
“Cut the bullshit!” Vincenzo sneered, slamming his cane against
the floor. “It was Elena who lost the comms device, and you damn well know it!”
“If you love Elena so desperately, why did you go to such ruthless lengths to marry this innocent girl? You dragged her name through the mud just to use her as a scapegoat!”
Domenico took a deep breath, violently suppressing the frantic, anxious thumping of his own heart. “What nonsense has she been feeding you now?”
“I’ve been too lenient with her. Once I drag her out of wherever she’s hiding, I am going to teach her a lesson she won’t-”
Vincenzo closed his eyes, his aged voice dripping with
irreversible cruelty:
“She is dead.”