Six Months Contract With The Mafia God

Eve’s heart rate accelerated.

”What do you mean, there’s no delivery team?”

”I mean, my colleague checked with building security, and they have no record of any furniture delivery scheduled for today. And Maria says the ’delivery team’ left the building about two minutes ago.”

Eve stood immediately.

”Get upstairs. Now. And seal the elevator access to the basement.”

She hung up and moved to her office door, locking it.

Her mind was racing through possibilities.

A test? Someone checking security?

Or something worse.

She picked up her phone to call Dimitri.

That was when her office lights went out.

All of them. Simultaneously. The entire floor plunged into darkness.

Eve’s blood went cold.

Emergency lighting kicked in after a few seconds, casting everything in a dim red glow. But it was enough to understand that something was very, very wrong.

The fire alarm wasn’t going off. The building wasn’t going into lockdown. The emergency lighting was functioning.

Which meant this wasn’t a building-wide emergency.

This was targeted.

Eve moved to her desk and grabbed the emergency panic button she kept in a drawer, a small device that would alert Dimitri’s security team immediately if activated.

She pressed it.

Nothing happened.

She pressed it again.

Still nothing.

Her hands were shaking now.

The door to her office exploded inward.

Not opened. Exploded. Like someone had used a battering ram or a small explosive charge on it.

Eve moved on instinct, diving behind her desk as figures in dark tactical gear flooded into her office. Professional. Coordinated. Moving with military precision.

”Don’t move,” one of them said, his weapon raised. Not pointed directly at her, but at an angle that suggested he could acquire her as a target in seconds.

”I’m calling the police,” Eve said, her voice steadier than she felt.

”No, you’re not,” the man replied. ”Your phone has been jammed. Your panic button is disconnected. Your security team is being handled. And you’re going to come with us quietly, and no one gets hurt.”

Eve assessed the situation with the clarity that came from being Dimitri’s woman, from living in a world where violence was always a possibility.

Five men. All armed. All trained. All focused on her.

She was in her office. They had control of the exits. She had no weapon. Her security was compromised.

Fight and lose.

Or comply and stay alive.

”Okay,” Eve said, standing slowly, her hands raised. ”I’ll come with you. But I’m telling you right now, the man I’m with is going to hunt every single one of you down and make you beg for death.”

The man smiled coldly.

”Dimitri Valentino’s woman. Yeah, we know. That’s kind of the point.”

***

9:47 AM

They moved her quickly.

Down the service stairwell, not the elevators. One man in front, one man behind her, two on each side. The kind of spacing that made escape impossible.

Eve’s mind was working frantically, noting details. The route they were taking. The number of turns. The sound of doors. Anything that might help Dimitri find her.

The basement was cooler, darker, dominated by concrete and industrial equipment. Storage units lined the walls. Mechanical systems hummed in the background.

And parked near the loading bay was a nondescript white van.

The back doors were already open.

”Inside,” the lead man commanded.

Eve hesitated for just a moment.

That was when her training kicked in.

Dimitri had taught her things. Had shown her what to do in high-stress situations. Had prepared her for scenarios exactly like this.

Never let them move you to a secondary location. Never get in the vehicle. The moment you’re in a vehicle, your chances of survival drop significantly.

Eve ran.

Not toward the men in tactical gear, that would be suicide. But toward the basement, deeper into the storage area, toward the shadows and the clutter where she might be able to lose them, at least temporarily.

”Secure the target,” the lead man commanded, his voice cold and professional.

Eve heard footsteps behind her, heard them moving fast, heard the tactical efficiency of men trained to pursue.

She knocked over a shelf of stored equipment, threw boxes behind her, created obstacles.

It bought her maybe three seconds.

Not nearly enough.

Hands grabbed her from behind, picking her up and holding her. She struggled, fought, tried to break the hold, but the man holding her was massive, easily 250 pounds of muscle and training.

”Stop resisting,” he said calmly into her ear. ”We’re not going to hurt you. You’re too valuable for that.”

”Dimitri will kill you,” Eve spat, still fighting. ”All of you. He will hunt you down and make you understand what pain really means.”

”Probably,” the man agreed, carrying her toward the van. ”But that’s later. Right now, we’re focused on getting you to safety.”

They threw her into the back of the van.

Eve immediately went for the doors, but they were already slamming shut. The van was windowless, climate-controlled, empty except for a bench seat bolted to the floor.

And a man sitting on the bench.

A familiar man.

Luca Moretti.

Eve recognized him from Dimitri’s files. Dante’s right-hand man. The extraction specialist. The tactical genius who kept Dante alive.

He was looking at her with an expression of pure professional respect.

”Ms. Thorne,” he said politely, as if they were meeting at a cocktail party instead of in a kidnapping van. ”I’m Luca. I’m going to explain what’s happening, and I need you to listen carefully because your cooperation determines how this goes.”

”I’m not cooperating with anything,” Eve said, her voice cold. ”You’ve made a massive mistake, and Dimitri is going to make you regret it.”

”Dimitri is very capable,” Luca agreed. ”That’s why we’ve been careful. That’s why we hit you here instead of at the penthouse. That’s why we executed this extraction with precision instead of desperation.”

The van started moving.

”You’re going somewhere secure,” Luca continued, his voice calm and professional. ”You won’t be harmed. You’ll be fed. You’ll be comfortable. Your only job is to survive the next week. After that, depending on how things go with your boyfriend, you’ll either be returned or you’ll become a permanent asset in our organization.”

”Permanent asset,” Eve repeated coldly. ”You mean prisoner.”