My eyes start to flutter open. The area I was in is dark. The unforgiving darkness was cold and the smell was putrid. It's so dark that I can't see my own limbs.

I tug on the tight ties wrapped around my wrist. I kicked my feet back and forth trying to feel for a stable ground. I must be hanging by a rope tied to my wrists.

My mind revisits the first time I was held hostage. Vincenzo kidnapped me and knocked me out, and I woke up in a room to see his brother Lorenzo.

"Lorenzo." I whisper his name, sadly. I was hoping for a response. He got kicked out of a window, a few stories high. I imagine the impact was enough to kill or injure him drastically.

No answer was heard. The reality of my shitty situation was just setting in.

The Russian's attacked all because of me. My conflict with them caused this. It was my fault Gianni died. Gianni's death made them gain the attention of the Valentino crime family.

They sent me threatening letters that I kept hidden from Vincenzo.

I secretly went back to Ireland, digging up my old past. I attempted to piece together a puzzle with a missing piece, because I was trying to find out who the fuck the Red Sword was.

"This is all my fucking fault." My voice quivers as all I did dawns upon me. A tear slides its way down my cheek.

"Don't say that, solnishko."

I go rigid when I hear a gruff voice with a thick accent chuckle. Someone is in here with me.

The lights flicker on, causing me to wince as my eyes adjust. The room was still indeed cold, but the light made is easier to see.

"Bloody hell." I moan in pain as I try to crane my neck around to see. My side was hurting like a bitch.

"Don't move solnishko," I hear his taunting footsteps come closer, before he is in my line of sight. "You will rip out stitches the doctor just finished."

Stitches?

I look down to see my abdomen missing a shirt. I was in a sports bra and tight black athletic shorts.

A bandage was taped on my skin with a little blood stain bleeding through.

"What the hell do you want with me?" I growl at the smaller sized man. He had a brown short buzz cut with a scar running throw the side of his head, to his upper lip.

He was short in size but muscles peeked out through the tight brown shirt he had on.

"I am Dominick Kuznetsov." He flashes me a taunting smile, the side of his eyes wrinkle up revealing his older age. He had to at least be in his late fifties.

"The Red Sword." I mumble more to myself then to his statement. If he's the guy behind all the threats, why hadn't he killed me yet?

Heck, he even had a doctor stitch me up.

As if he could read my loud thoughts, he chuckles, "I have found value in you, solnishko."

"No." I cut him off. "No, the fuck you haven't."

He grimaces, his eyes raking me up and down. I obnoxiously gag in disgust when he touches my hip, his rough calloused thumb rubbing my bare skin.

"Watch it, solnishko. I have been nice to you, but I can turn into a nasty bastard in seconds." His tone held no amusement or sarcasm, I could tell I am pissing him off.

"You would be surprised of how much people would pay to have the Francesca Walsh as their wife..." He trails off, his eyes softening as he looks at me. "Or as their slave."

I internally panic. The mere thought of being forced to marry or have sex was repulsing. Basically, I am a item or toy that Dominick wants to sell for profit.

Disgusting.

He lets go of my hip to stand in front of me. It would be very easy to kick his short ass to the ground, but where would that get me? Sure, I would injure him, but I would still be hanging from the ceiling like some tacky streamers.

"We'll make you look prettier than ever." He chuckles, checking me out like I'm art at a museum. "Too bad your body has so many scars. The more scars, the less value you are."

"Fuck you."

He chuckles at my retort. "I won't be fucking you, solnishko. The lucky guy who buys you will be though."

A wave of sickness settles in my stomach. This man is pure evil.

With each passing second, my heart rips in half. Out of all the people to kidnap me, it happens to be the person who killed my parents.

"How?" I shout, ignoring the pain. He whips his head around, his palm rubbing his stubble beard.

"What?"

"How the hell did you get into the Valentino estate?"

He smugly smirks, taking a few steps closer to me. "I have ears everywhere, Francesca. A certain someone told me all I need to know."

I swear, once I get free I'm going right after the rat. I'll make sure their death is painfully slow.

"Let me guess, Gio?" I roll my eyes. He was my first suspect, and he kept trying to accuse me.

"Nope." Dominick chuckles without amusement. "Not even close."

Before I can question him more, he walks out the door, shutting on the lights until it's pitch black once again.

{} {} {}

Vincenzo's POV

"Shit," I mumble, struggling to carry my brother's heavy ass. Lorenzo is currently unconscious.

I found him in a puddle of his own crimson blood, lying on the unforgiving concrete.

Once I am far away from the house, I set him down on the grassy surface in the woods. Thankfully, we had a wooded area to hide bodies from the feds.

"Fratello." I shake his bulky shoulder roughly. His heart was beating but the air exhaling from his nose was not strong.

His life force was holding on by a thin little thread. "Lorenzo." I mummer, patting his chest. "I'll be back, fratello."

I spoke my promise out loud to him. I'll even bring him a doctor or medical expert to help him.

With one last look at my almost dead brother, I start to sprint towards the road. The mansion was completely cleared of the Russians, but some still might be on a look out for me.

Ria and her girlfriend Maple, safely got away from the infiltration. I saw them leaving the garage in a car a few hours ago.

Ria was looking fierce while Maple bawled her eyes out.

Most of the men inside my estate were dead. A few made it out but not uninjured. I had deep suspicion on who attacked us, but why did they was the question....

The Red Sword was a well known mafia in Moscow, Russia. However, I never caught  word of them throughout America.

That shit pissed me the fuck off. I have the most powerful crime family in America, yet my crew never detected them near us.

What the fuck is up with that!?

I know we have a snitch in our family, but who the fuck is it? Gio kept insisting it was Francesca, but I knew damn well she is a loyal women.

Besides, they kidnapped her too. I had to painfully watch my brother get kicked out of a window, and watch Francesca get hit in the back of the head.

I was watching from the room across the hall. The door was cracked open, allowing me to watch the fucked up scene unfold.

The whistle blower has to be one of our newer people. Faces and names travel through my mind as I go over them one by one.

A couple of them were involved in suspicious activity, but most were not.

As I rack my brain, I find myself flagging down a small yellow cab.

Ignoring his fuss, I open the back door and sit against the ripped leather seats. "$5,000 tip if you can get me to the next city in less than twenty minutes."

The man sits up, immediately putting the cab into gear and harshly stomping on the gas pedal.

When I get to the nearest safe house, I will call in a few people who owe me favors. As much as I hate to admit, without my crew, I am less powerful.

And right now I need all the help I can get.

I need to get Francesca back.