Chapter 5 And if you come back

The second the heavy door clicked shut, Mandy was moving.

Barefoot, quiet, heart pounding.

The place smelled like old concrete and mildew, a warehouse maybe? She didn't know. There were no windows, only a single bulb buzzing above her and shadows swallowing everything else.

She found the corner where the wall met a rusted shelf. Grabbed a broken metal rod. Not a weapon-but better than nothing.

She padded to the door., tested it.

Locked.

She didn't stop, she searched the perimeter-walls, floor, any loose panels, anything she could pry open.

Nothing, just cold, gray nothing.

Then, footsteps approached.

She darted back to the center and hid the rod behind her back just as the door opened.

A man stepped in, not the one who'd brought her here. This one was taller, rougher, his face was shadowed, but his voice had that same low, unnerving calm.

"Comfortable?" he asked.

"Go to hell," she snapped.

He smiled like he'd expected that.

She took one step forward, faking calm. "Let me go now, and no one has to know what you did. I won't say a word."

He laughed. "Cute."

She lunged. Went for his throat.

The metal rod swung wide, but he caught her wrist midair, effortlessly.

"You've got fire," he said, yanking the weapon out of her grip. "Now I see why he liked you."

"Who?" she spat.

But he was already turning, dragging her back into the room and slamming the door.

A heavy lock clicked.

Mandy collapsed to the floor, breathing hard, the taste of fear sharp on her tongue.

She didn't know who these men were, or what they wanted.

But she knew one thing for sure.

This wasn't random.

She was here because of him.

And the worst part?

She didn't even know who the him really was.

***

Mandy didn't sleep.

Her thoughts raced like knives in her head, cutting, frantic, refusing to dull.

She couldn't wait anymore, she had to try again.

This time, she ripped a strip from her shirt, tied it tight around the handle of a loose metal drawer, and yanked. It snapped off, better than the last weapon.

She waited, for the same brute came in every time the door opened, she was silent, he was observant, like he enjoyed the tension.

When he returned, she was ready.

She struck fast, the metal piece aimed straight at his side.

He caught her, again.

This time, he slammed her back against the wall.

"You're making this very hard," he growled, breath hot and sour against her face. "Keep pushing, sweetheart, and I might stop being polite."

Her blood turned to ice, she pushed at his chest, panic flaring, but he only leaned in closer.

"Touch me and I swear I'll bite your damn ear off," she hissed.

He smirked. "Maybe I like a little fight."

He grabbed her wrist.

And that's when the boom hit.

The door exploded off its hinges.

Smoke, screams, gunfire.

The brute turned, too slow.

A figure emerged from the chaos, black coat, gun raised, fury painted across his face like war.

Dante.

He shot the man in the leg, precise, brutal.

The kidnapper went down, screaming.

Dante didn't look at him again.

He crossed to Mandy in seconds, grabbed her shoulders.

"Mandy," he said, voice ragged. "You okay?"

She stared at him, shell-shocked.

"You-what the hell-how-"

"No time."

He pulled her into his arms, one hand checking her face, her wrists, her waist.

"You're safe now. I've got you."

She blinked rapidly, brain scrambling to keep up. "Who are you?"

But Dante didn't answer.

He lifted her into his arms like it was nothing and turned to leave.

Behind them, his men poured into the room, chaos unfolding in gunfire and shouting.

Mandy's world tilted as Dante carried her into the night.

She didn't know what scared her more.

The men who took her,

Or the man who just saved her.

***

Dante's Penthouse – Hours Later

The room was quiet, heavy with tension.

Mandy sat wrapped in a blanket on the couch. Her knuckles were scraped, her lip slightly swollen, but her eyes...her eyes were still fire.

Across from her, Dante knelt, dabbing disinfectant on her wrist. "Hold still."

"I'm not a damn pet," she snapped. "Tell me who those people were, why was I taken? Why...why you?"

He didn't answer.

Just clenched his jaw, focused on the wound like it mattered more than the panic rising in her voice.

"Dante," she said again, lower. "What the hell is going on?"

Still nothing.

"You show up out of nowhere. You break into my apartment. You kidnap me from my job. Then some lunatic drags me off like I'm leverage-"

"You were leverage," he said quietly.

Her breath hitched.

He looked up at her finally, eyes unreadable. "But they were wrong. You're not."

She blinked. "Excuse me?"

Dante stood. "You're going home."

He drove them back to Mandy's Apartment by dawn

The sky was bleeding into pink as his car pulled to a stop at the curb.

Mandy looked at him, still wrapped in the blanket, her voice barely above a whisper. "You're not even going to explain?"

"No."

"Why?"

He didn't meet her eyes. "Because you don't want to know the truth."

"I do."

He leaned closer, eyes darker than she'd ever seen them. "If I tell you, you'll never sleep again. You'll never feel safe again. You'll stop looking at me the way you do."

She stared at him, silent.

"Go inside, Mandy. Lock the doors. Don't answer to anyone but me."

"And if you show up again?"

"I won't."

He opened the car door for her.

She stepped out, unsure, cold despite the rising sun.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked.

Dante's voice was soft. "Because you were the first good thing I've touched in years. And the second I touched you, I put a target on your back."

Her heart thudded.

"I won't make that mistake again."

The door shut, the car pulled away, and Mandy was left alone, confused, frightened, angry.

But worst of all, she had this feeling that she wanted more.