radicalducati Chapter 27:
Chapter 27:
“No,” Mary screamed, thrashing against the ropes. “Dad, don’t—don’t you dare do this!”
Ben’s eyes flicked toward her, and for a moment — just a moment — she saw something human left in them. Shame. Regret. Guilt. A dozen years’ worth, all crackling behind a face that had been hollowed out by bad choices and worse debts.
He looked back at Neil.
“I’m not playing,” he said flatly.
Neil tilted his head. “Come on. One last game for old time’s sake.”
Ben didn’t move. “Even if I win, you’re not letting us go.”
Neil laughed — a full, rich laugh like they were friends sitting at a bar instead of two men debating who’d get to own a woman.
“Right again,” Neil said easily. “Smart man. Almost makes up for what a coward you are.”
He turned his gaze to Mary and let it stay there.
“I’ve liked her since the first time I saw her,” he said, walking slowly toward her. “So sharp, so clean. A girl like that doesn’t belong in this world, which makes taking her all the more interesting.”
Ben stepped forward. “You don’t have to—”
Neil ignored him completely.
“She was supposed to be untouched,” he said, circling behind Mary’s chair. “But according to Felicity, our dear William already ruined that fantasy.”
He stopped at Mary’s side, crouched down, his voice turning soft, twisted.
“But there’s still a lot of fun to be had, I think.”
His hand slid across her shoulder, down the curve of her arm, slow and deliberate. Mary flinched, recoiled as much as the ropes allowed. Her breath turned shallow.
And Neil didn’t even blink at her father’s presence.
“Still so warm,” he murmured. “And you smell like him. I wonder what it’ll take to erase that.”
Ben stepped forward, fists clenched. "Don't touch her again—"
Before Neil could respond, the sound of a gunshot echoed. A shot cracked through the air from outside. Then another. Then three more in rapid succession.
Neil straightened, all calm now turned razor-sharp.
“Aha,” he said, grinning as if Christmas had come early. “Right on time.”
He stepped away from Mary and adjusted his cuffs with practiced ease.
“I told you he’d come,” he said, voice practically humming. “Everything is going perfectly.”
More gunfire rang out, the sharp cracks filling the air. Screams echoed from the hallway, frantic and desperate. Through the chaos, someone shouted something in Italian, their voice trembling with fear.
Mary’s pulse pounded in her throat, each beat a loud reminder of the danger closing in around them. Her breath came in shallow gasps as she fought to stay steady.
In the midst of it all, Neil stood there, his expression calm, almost amused. And then he smiled— a smile so cold, so knowing, that it seemed to come straight from the devil himself, welcoming the fall of an angel.