Chapter 26 song quote:

"Tell me where are you now that I need you?
Where are you now?
Where are you now that I need ya?"
~ Where Are Ü Now by Skrillex & Diplo ft. Justin Bieber

HARLOW

I hung there in front of him, in a dark colored room, my wrists tied together over my head with a rope hanging from the ceiling, my ankles apart and tied to two posts in the floor. It smelled of blood, tears and his psychotic desperation. I wasn't wearing much, he had forced me to change into his favorite t-shirt and that was it, along with some black lacy lingerie that I was originally wearing. I hadn't gotten my punishment yet for stabbing him, but I knew it was coming. He had roughly pulled my hair tie out of my hair, because he said he loved my hair down.

I didn't give a damn about what he 'loved' about me.

I was glaring at him and his stupid smug smile. "What is wrong, my love?" He asked.

"You fucking kidnapped me, the fuck do you think is wrong?!" I snapped. I was sedated, but it wasn't too heavy. I was slightly still the bitch I've always been.

"Hey! You watch you the fuck you're talking to!" He yelled, and I flinched.

I rolled my eyes and closed them, thinking about the things that actually made me happy. Like Cristiano and Zach. Or gelato and waffles with chocolate syrup.

This douchebag actually kidnapped me. I was in some warehouse God knows where with Francisco Petrov against my will. I swear to God he's bipolar. One minute, he says he loves me and wants to shower me with kisses, next minute he's yelling at me and beating me.

I'd been obviously been stripped of my weapons and I didn't have my phone, it was still in those damned tunnels. My CAT beeper is gone too. I don't know where it went. The only item that hasn't been taken from me, was the heart lock necklace Cristiano gave me. And that can't save me now.

Cristiano. He's probably pissed at me for disobeying him. He's probably worried. Or frustrated.

He's probably running his hands through his hair, and his eyes are most likely twitching. He's probably yelling at Dominic. Dominic is probably not taking his shit.

My necklace was in my bra, I had slipped it in there so Francisco wouldn't see it and take it. I felt like as long as I had it, there'd still be hope. The hope that I'd be rescued and no one would forget me.

I wonder how long I'll be gone? Days, months, years? No, not years. I'd rather be left here to rot than spend more years with the devil that claims to love me.

Actually, I don't know where the hell I am. "Cisco, where am I?"

He chuckled. "I know how much you love Italy. I'd prefer going back to Russia but I suppose I could settle here to make my princess happy. We're in Sicily."

He could make me happier by letting me go. "Sicily? I know that it's an Italian island, but I'd rather be where I was in Italy."

"Well you are gonna settle with Sicily and like it!" He growled.

I sighed silently, holding my head down, wishing I was anywhere but here, while feeling his psychotic gaze on me. I could hear him fidgeting and tapping his foot on the floor. He did that whenever there was nothing but silence. He hates silence.

"You know, I never quite understood why we broke up. Could you explain it to me, princess?" He eagerly asked, walking up to me.

I stayed silent. He knows damn well why I left him. Suddenly, he sent a painful backhanded slap to my cheek, making my head forcefully turn to the left which was enough to make my cheek bruise purple. "Answer when I speak to you!" He shouted and I flinched.

"I left you because I wanted a break from that life. I wanted a break from your abuse!"

"Princess, its not abuse. I'm showing who's the master, and who is the slave." He stroked my cheek.

"I'm not your damn slave!" I spat and he sent another backhanded slap to my other cheek. "Hit me all you like, I won't stop being the bitch I always was. I am not afraid of you. Cristiano's gonna find me and when he does, he's gonna make you regret you were born."

He went for another slap but I ducked my head before holding it up and bashing my head against his. He stumbled back and I smirked. "You forget I'm Krasnaya Zima. I'll get away myself at some point."

"Great job, princess. I was gonna forgive you for stabbing me. But now, I'm gonna double your punishment. I'll be back, my love." He smiled happily and walked out of the room.

I gulped and prayed that something would happen so he wouldn't do it to me. But no, he comes back with a familiar whip. He unravels it and steps closer to me. "Let's start, shall we?"

I gulped again. Here come the lashes. "H-how many?"

"Fifty. Like always, you count every one, and address the master every lash. If you talk back, that's fifty more." And with that, he swung the whip at me and as soon as I felt the burning, stinging pain, I screamed with tears streaming down my face.

"O-One, you are my master."

****

CRISTIANO

"Will you stop that! You're gonna make your hair fall out!" My mother scolded and I rolled my eyes, removing my hands from my hair. She believes if you run your hands through your hair all the time, it'll fall out.

"Well excuse me if I'm worried about the kidnapped woman I like to call my girlfriend!" I snapped and my father smacked the back of my head.

"Do not snap at your mother. We are all worried and we are gonna do everything we can to get her back." He patted my back.

"It's my fault. I should've made her leave as soon as I saw her." I ran another hand through my hair despite my mother's beliefs. Before anyone could try to say it's not my fault, I slapped my hand on the kitchen counter, making everyone jump. "Y-you know what? W-we have to think of every possible place that would make sense." I stuttered in frustration and franticness.

"Okay, calm down, Cris. We shouldn't waste our time on Russia. He didn't take any boat or plane or anything. I had our men check every airport, dock, port, and train station. No trace or witnesses of Petrov leaving. So he's still in Italy. And Harlow is still in Italy. We just have to figure out where." Zach concluded.

"That's gonna take days. We need to find her now." I mumbled.

"Cristiano you need to calm down and be rational. We need time. We can't just think about it and suddenly the answer just pops up in front of us. We need time. You must be patient." My mother said at an attempt to calm me.

I cannot calm down. Who the fuck would calm down in a situation like this?

"Cris, we've dealt with situations like this before when some of our men were taken. This is nothing we can't handle." My sister said.

"But this is different! He didn't try to kiss our men! He didn't previously date our men! He didn't take our men because he was 'in love' with our men. Now, I don't want to fucking hear about how this is just like our other cases or how I should calm down, because we all know damn well it's not gonna fucking happen!" I yelled, and my family's mouths all went agape.

I caught my father's hand before it could hit me for raising my voice and cursing.
"Now, we could either lecture me and tell me to calm down, or we could hurry up and find my Angel."

****

I looked up very annoyed at my father, who had just barged in and dropped a stack of files on my desk. "Si, padre who totally knows how to knock?"

He took a calming breath. "Watch your tongue." He said in a warning tone. "These are the data files of Harlow's texts from Petrov over the week, Petrov's background info, Him and Harlow's background story in writing from the girl herself, and every possible location in our beautiful country he could've taken her inconspicuously. Have at it, I'm going to go see if we could find a Slovenian or Russian to interogate. Possibly someone from the port fight." And with that, he walked out of my office, shutting the door on his way out.

The first thing I picked up were Harlow's handwritten files on their past relationship. In order to find out where he would take her, I'd have to find out just approximately how he is, how their relationship worked, and how functional they were together. It would actually help me profile him better.

Damn, this is too much stress for a 22 year old.

I held my breath as I started to read the first page describing their relationship.

I am Harlow Rose-Montgomery Winters also known as world known assassin Krasnaya Zima. As a profile for the Italian Mafia, I am writing this file on my past business with my ex boyfriend, Russian mob leader Francisco Vincent Petrov.

I'd met him in a bar, I was 15 and a bit of a rebel so I thought, why not fake being 18, I have the body for it. He had walked up to me and offered to buy me a drink, I had accepted. At the time, he was the most charming and handsome man I'd ever met. He was smart and nice. We had started seeing each other after that night. I found out he was 18, three years older than me but I didn't care. After half a year of being with him, I fell in love with him.

He had introduced me to his friends that I soon found out that he was the gang leader of a gang called the Shadows. I didn't know it at the time, but the Shadows were also the Russian mob. I had joined, willing to do anything for him because I loved him, and I was sure he loved me. He took my virginity at 16 for my birthday, and I was completely delusional with love, feeling pleasure for the first time.

But things weren't always what they seemed. Soon, he had trained me, disciplined me. And I became an assassin. A world class assassin. And I was damn good at what I did. And I became a killing machine. And that made me the sick monster I am today. I thought my life would be nothing but hella good times, but no. He wasn't what I thought he was.

I gulped, preparing myself for what came next.

He developed a new set of rules. If I ever looked at another guy in a way he considered a check out, that would get me five lashes. If I talked back, that would be ten. If I disobeyed, that would be twenty. And if I ever even accidentally hurt him physically, I'd get fifty. He'd tie me up and get his whip. And when he whipped me, I'd have to count and say 'you are my master' each number. Almost always, he'd yell at me constantly and hit me, which is why I flinch so much when I'm yelled at. He'd use me for sex and then go weeks without even looking at me, and screw with other girls about five times a week. As soon as he started cheating on me, I was sick of it and started sleeping with at least six guys a week, just to get him pissed.

At that point, I didn't care about myself. I only cared about how I'd make sure I got revenge on him. He told me every chance he got that he loved me, but no one loves like that. That's sick if that's what love is to you. He said he'd do anything to make me happy. But no, I rejected him and we broke up. I separated myself from him and as soon as I left, he started right back up again with drinking and sexing around.

I do not miss him. I am not affiliated with him in anyway anymore. I swear to God, I hate him with all my soul. He may have been the man of my dreams, but come on. I found someone who's more worthy of my time. ~ Harlow R.M Winters

I chuckled at that last part. But the chuckled was soon replaced with a huff, as I recalled the things he'd done to her. Fucking bastard.

Let's see, he says he'd do anything to make her happy. She loves Italy, so that would explain why they're still here. She loves Florence, she's fascinated by the church and how it's being built. The art. So, she's most likely here in Florence.

My phone started to go off. I checked the ID. "Si, padre?"

"I thought that you might want to do the brutal honors of interrogating Mr. Inigo. He's of the Russian mob. and the best part, he doesn't look like he's gonna talk."

"I'll watch, then I'll go."

****

HARLOW

I had red burning scratches and marks all over my body.

My head was pounding and my throat was burning from all the crying and screaming pleas for him to stop.

My eyes were probably puffy and red, which would stand out because of my super pale alabaster skin. Plus, I bruised easily. It's weird, I have injury-sensitive yet tan and sunburn-proof skin. What the hell did they do to me in the Institution?

He was gone, he said I'll have to eat at some point, so he went to get me food.
"I swear to God Cisco, if you get me some weird and nasty shit--" I immediately closed my mouth because he walked back in.....with a bag of Wendy's.

I made myself look weak and broken up just so he'd hesitate to get mad and abusive again. "H-How did you get Wendy's in Sicilia?" I asked, making my voice sound hoarse and weak.

I knew my victim act was working even though I really was a victim right now, because he looked almost regretful and guilty at the way I talked and looked. Didn't bother him before so why does it now?

"I have food from places but I was too busy to eat it, so I stored it for later. It's heated up and ready to eat again." He sat the bag down on a table.

I raised an eyebrow and pointedly twitched my tied up arms, making him chuckle. "I'm not letting you loose. I'm not dumb."

Really? You're not? Your grades beg to differ, bitch.

"I'm gonna feed you like the cute little baby you are." He grinned creepily, opening the bag.

I'm ready to ring my pedo alert. Are you? He technically is a paedophile, we started dating when he was a legal adult and I was still technically fresh out of my pre-teens. He had ex girlfriends that were all the same age as me when they started dating him. He took their virginities too.

He slowly and creepily fed me French fries and I found out he lied. This food was not hot, it was warm! There's a freakin difference between hot and warm!

I swear, the Italian Mafia did a better job of kidnapping me. And their men shot me with a tranquilizer dart and didn't feed me when I woke up. At least they asked if I had to take a piss.

By the time I was finished eating, I was about ready to cut someone. He kept on saying creepy shit like 'you're so cute when you chew'. "Now I understand why Cristiano hates being called cute." I said but I hadn't realized I said it out loud until I felt  him slap me hard across the face.

"Don't mention that bastard's fucking name in my presence. Y-you know what? No, don't ever say anything or even think about Cristiano Romano ever again! Forget he ever existed! He will never find you, he does not love you, and he doesn't care! So let him go and don't even think about him!" He yelled, and tears started to well up in my eyes.

He stormed out, slamming the door.

I continued to cry. No, he's wrong. Cristiano does care. He has to. He told me multiple times himself. He will find me and save me because he promised he always would. He is the love of my life and I have full faith that he will get me out of here, alive. If I don't escape this hell hole myself.

Francisco had been gone for hours, I wondered if he forgot about me. Eidetic

God, I would love that. But no, he almost has an eidetic memory.

I took this time to think about escape options. I could simply figure out a way to untie myself, then find my weapons and fight my way out of here. But no, my wrists and ankles are tied tight. The ankle ropes aren't even tightly secured to the floor. I could move my legs a little but I'd still be restricted to the floor. I was basically hanging by my wrists that were tied together. I had to hold onto the rope so I would dislocate anything.

I was alarmed out of my thoughts by the feeling of pins and needles sticking my fingers and spreading to my entire hands. "No, no, no!" I groaned. My hands and arms were falling asleep, I won't be able to move soon.

I started to squirm and gladly, the feeling started to fade. But that would only last for so long.

Soon, I couldn't take it anymore. My eyes were droopy and I was blinking slowly. Strange, I hadn't been this sleepy earlier.

Maybe it was the constant crying, or the screaming, and the tiredness is just now hitting me.

I let myself fall into a deep sleep, nothing but an ominous silence around.

****

I woke up in a different room.

It was a plain bedroom. It was supposed to be white, but it looked dirty and faded. I was lying on the bed, my wrist chained to the bedpost but all my other limbs were free.

One more thing, though.

I was naked.

I had been stripped of my shirt, I was only in my black lingerie. My vision was blurry, but as soon as it cleared, I shrieked in fear, shock and disbelief. There he was, holding and swinging my heart lock necklace back and forth in his dirty hands. That was in my bra.....

"Beautiful necklace. Where'd you get it?"

A tear slid down my cheek. "I-I got it from a friend."

He stood up. "Really, because I could've sworn it was from Cristiano. You see, he has a key one with the exact same design by the exact same designer as yours, by the looks of it the key fits exactly into this heart, therefore it's a corny little couples' necklace. It's going in the incinerator." And with that, he turned around to leave.

"No! Please, Francisco! Don't take it away from me. Please. Y-you said you wanted to make me happy, right? You can do that by letting me keep it." I gulped, hoping my advantage-taking of his words will help.

He sighed, tossing it back to me. "Fine. But if I ever see it again, it's gonna burn. So you better hide that thing damn well." He opened the door but stopped without looking at me. "Oh, and that's 15 lashes for lying to me. And after that, get yourself fucking decent, I'm making love to you tonight."

As soon as that came out of his mouth, my heart cracked in four ways.

No, I cannot have sex with him. No. I'm not cheating again. Last time, it was just a one way kiss. This is a lot worse. Oh God. I have to find a way to get out of it.

I pulled my knees up to my chest and thought about anything I could do. I'm not as restrained so I could do something to get free.

But as always, there's nothing. Not even a sharp object to defend myself.

He came back in with the whip and at this point, I just took what I 'deserved'. As soon as the first lash hit my thigh, I hissed. "One. You are my master."
Crack. "Two. You are my master."
Crack. "Three. You are my master...."

By the time he was finished, I had the same purple and red whip marks all over my body. He walked over to me and smashed his lips onto mine. As soon as everything clicked, I immediately pushed him off. "Leave me alone! I will never be with you!"

He huffed, taking something from a drawer from across the room. My vision was blurry from the tears, so I blinked a few times. In his hand, was a syringe. And he was filling it with something.

He walked back over and roughly grabbed my arm, making me wince. "Yes you will, princess. I will make sure of that." And with those words, he stabbed my arm with the syringe that held strange liquid and I winced more.

Almost instantly, I started to feel lightheaded and droopy. "W-what did you d-do?" I whispered, before slipping unconscious.

I couldn't move. I was paralyzed. I could feel everything, but I couldn't move a muscle in my body. I couldn't even talk. But I could see everything.

He took of