Elara's POV.
My head felt like it had been split open with an axe. Every time I tried to open my eyes, it felt like acid was burning my lids.
"The little princess is finally awake."
The voice was husky and deep. I blinked rapidly, trying to clear the fog from my eyes.
I was in a warehouse, tied to a heavy wooden chair with thick ropes that bit into my wrists and ankles.
"Who are you?" I croaked. My throat felt like I had swallowed sand. "Where am I?"
A man stepped into the light. He was huge, with a scarred face.
He looked down at me with no expression at all. Behind him, two other men stood close holding rifles.
"What do you want with me?" I asked, my voice shaking. "Please, I don't know anything. I'm just a student. Please let me go."
"You aren't just a student anymore, Mrs. Moretti," the man said.
I strained against the ropes, the wood of the chair creaking. "Dante? Lorenzo? Where are they?"
The man chuckled. "They're in the back of the sedan we brought you here in. The car is sealed, and we've pumped the rest of the gas in there. In approximately thirty minutes, their hearts will stop. They'll be dead before the sun comes up."
"No!" I screamed, the panic finally breaking through the haze. "No, please! You can't let them die. I'll give you anything you want. I have money, well, Dante has money. Just let them out. Please!"
The man leaned down until his face was inches from mine. "I don't want your money, Elara. I want the heir. Where is the child?"
I stared at him, confused. "What child? There is no heir. I promise you. I just met Dante and we only just got married. I'm not pregnant. I'm not with child!"
The man slapped me across the face.
The force of it made my head snap to the side, and the taste of blood filled my mouth.
"Don't lie to me!" he shouted. "Dante Moretti doesn't marry a nobody for love. He doesn't bring a girl from the gutters into his house unless she's carrying the next head of the Syndicate. We know about the contract. We know why he picked you."
"It's just a contract!" I cried, tears streaming down my face. "He wants a son, yes, but I haven't even had a missed period yet. I am not pregnant! Please believe me!"
One of the men in the back walked forward and pressed the cold barrel of a handgun against my temple. I froze, my breath hitching in my chest.
"One last time," the leader said, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "Where is the baby?"
"There is no baby!" I sobbed, my whole body shaking. "Search me! Take me to a doctor! I am telling you the truth. I'm not pregnant!"
The man sighed and stood up straight. He looked at one of his subordinates. "She's stubborn. Bring the abortion pills."
My heart stopped. "What? No. No, you don't understand."
"Oh, I understand perfectly," the man said.
He took a small plastic bottle from his associate. He poured two large, red pills into his palm. "These are high-dose. If there is a fetus in there, these will strip it from your uterine wall in minutes. If there isn't... well, these pills are highly toxic to the liver and the lining of the stomach in these concentrations. They'll destroy your insides. You'll bleed out from the inside out."
"Please," I begged, the terror reaching a fever pitch. "Don't do this. I'm telling you the truth. I'll die for nothing."
"Then you should have told us where the heir is," he said.
"There is no heir!"
He grabbed my jaw, forcing my mouth open. I struggled, shaking my head from side to side, but he was too strong.
He shoved the pills deep into my throat and clamped his hand over my mouth and nose.
"Swallow," he commanded.
I fought it until my lungs burned for air.
Finally, my body betrayed me. I swallowed it.
He held his hand over my mouth for another ten seconds to make sure they were down before he let go.
I gagged and coughed, but it was too late.
"Now we'll know if you're lying or not," the man said, checking his watch. "The drug begins to take effect in three... two... one..."
For a second, there was nothing but the sound of my own breathing.
Then, it hit me.
It felt like a hot iron had been shoved into my abdomen and twisted.
Pain surged through my lower body. I had never felt anything like it. It was a thousand times worse than any cramp or injury I had ever sustained.
"Ahhhh!!!" I screamed, my head falling back against the chair.
I felt a sudden, warm rush of liquid between my thighs. I looked down and saw my own blood soaking my dress and gushing down my legs.
"Look at that," the man said, leaning in. "Maybe she was lying after all."
The pain intensified. It felt like my organs were being shredded.
Suddenly, the sound of a heavy door being kicked in echoed through the warehouse.
The sound of gunfire filled the room. I heard shouts, the thud of bodies hitting the floor, and the clatter of rifles. But I couldn't care. The pain in my stomach was far too unbearable for me to be bothered by a gunfight.
"Ahhh! Help me!" I screamed again, my voice breaking.
"Elara!"
Someone started fumbling with the ropes.
"Elara, look at me!"
I blinked, trying to focus. Lorenzo was in front of me. "Lorenzo," I wheezed, clutching my stomach as I slumped forward out of the chair. He caught me before I hit the ground.
"I've got you. I'm getting you out of here," he said, his voice cracking. He looked down and saw the blood covering my legs and the floor. "Oh God. Elara, where are you hit? Did they shoot you?"
"No," I sobbed, the tears burning my eyes. I gripped his shirt. "The pills. They gave me the pills."
"What pills?"
"I'm dying," I whispered. "Lorenzo... I'm dying... My baby..."
"What baby?" Lorenzo shouted, looking around. "Elara, talk to me!"
"My baby," I cried. "They killed my baby."