Consciousness slowly crept back in. I realized that I was now lying on a hard mattress, and the air in the room I was lying in smelled like rust and dampness.
So that means I’m not in my home or a hotel room or even a fancy bedroom. That means this is really happening. I felt something cold on my ankle, forcing me to look down. It was a chain.
'Lord, what did Pietro do to me?'
I could only recall that I’d fought him so hard that he decided it was best to let me be. Then I almost created a scene and ran off when we got to the airport. If only the people there weren’t so hellbent on minding their businesses. I would have been rescued.
That was all I could remember. Now I’m waking up restrained in a depressing room. Sick with terror about what’s going to happen to me soon. I started mu
