Chapter 1 - The False Rescue
The wooden door frame splintered into jagged pieces as Mark’s heavy shoulder finally shattered the lock.
I screamed, scrambling backward until my spine hit the cold porcelain of the bathtub.
Mark stood in the doorway, his chest heaving, his eyes burning with a dark, sadistic glee.
He did not look like the man I had married.
He looked like a predator who had just cornered his favorite prey.
"You really thought someone was coming?" he mocked, stepping over the broken wood.
He reached down, grabbing a handful of my hair, and yanked me violently to my feet.
White-hot agony flared through my broken arm as it slammed against the sink.
I bit my lip so hard I tasted copper, refusing to give him the satisfaction of another scream.
"Eight minutes," I whispered, repeating Vincent's promise like a desperate prayer.
Mark laughed, a cruel, hollow sound that echoed against the bathroom tiles.
"Nobody cares about a pathetic waitress, Lena."
He raised his heavy fist, preparing to deliver a blow that would undoubtedly shatter my jaw.
I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the impact.
Suddenly, the front door of our apartment exploded off its hinges with a deafening crash.
Heavy boots thundered across the hardwood floor.
Mark dropped me in shock, spinning around to face the hallway.
I opened my eyes, expecting to see the terrifying Mafia boss who had answered my call.
Instead, three men in tactical gear burst into the bathroom, aiming assault rifles directly at my chest.
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"NYPD!" the lead officer roared.
"Lena Rossi, you are under arrest for the possession and distribution of illegal narcotics."
