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Wait for Me in the Alley
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I came to Chicago with my friend to visit her boyfriend. Three days in, her boyfriend said he'd show us "something fun." The car kept driving—farther and farther out. By the time we realized something was wrong, we were locked inside an abandoned factory. My friend was gone. Her boyfriend shoved me into a room and threw me a line: "Your friend sold you for twenty grand. Stay put and wait for arrangements." I scanned the room. A few men in black suits leaned against the doorway. Silver-gray pins on their chests. Shield-shaped. Dark red thorns. An inverted dagger. The family crest of Caleb Richardson—don of the New York mafia. I was held captive by him for three years. I barely escaped with my life— And now I've been handed right back to him.
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Chapter 1
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Wait for Me in the Alley Chapter 8
The days that followed, I went to that alley every single day.The alley looked just like it had years ago. The graffiti on the walls had changed a few times, but the streetlamp was still the same dim yellow. I'd sit on the steps beneath it, hugging my knees, waiting from dusk till dark—watching silhouettes come and go at the mouth of the alley, shadows stretching long and then shrinking short.The first two years, I told myself he was healing. Too hurt to show himself. The third year, I started wondering if the body claim was a setup—maybe he'd used a double, gone underground somewhere. The fourth year, I stopped making excuses. I just sat there out of habit.In the fifth year, June, a storm hit New York. The alley pooled with water, the streetlamp's reflection shattering across the surface. I sat on the steps in my jacket, rain dripping from the eaves onto my knees—cold enough that I pulled my collar tighter.When the dark had fully set in, I heard footsteps from the other end of the
Wait for Me in the Alley Chapter 7
Caleb dealt with everyone involved. Everyone except Nora. She'd gotten wind of it somehow—disappeared from Chicago long before the sweep.After I recovered, Caleb started planning the wedding.He chose a private island in the Caribbean.He said he'd taken three years of my freedom—he'd spend the rest of his life making it up to me.The wedding day was perfect. I stood under the flower arch, the breeze lifting my veil. Seagulls drifted across the distant sea. Guests sat in white chairs, waiting for the ceremony to begin.The first shot—I thought it was a boat backfiring.The second one tore through the arch. White fabric shredded, drifting down like torn clouds. Guests screamed. Chairs overturned. The third shot came from the sea—a black speedboat was racing toward the beach, figures on deck with rifles aimed at us.Caleb came through the side door so fast I didn't even see him move. He tackled me to the ground, covered my body with his. His hand pressed against the back of my head, knuc
Wait for Me in the Alley Chapter 6
I watched his eyes go red, opened my mouth, but my throat was still raw.He quickly pressed my shoulder. "Don't talk. The doctor said your vocal cords need rest."A knock at the door. One of his men leaned in. "Don, we've got him. Tied up in the interrogation room like you said."Caleb stood, bent down to tuck the blanket around me. "Give me ten minutes."After he left, I heard a door open and close at the end of the hall. Then a few short, muffled screams—like someone had something stuffed in their mouth. A few minutes later, more screams, shorter this time. Then silence.When Caleb came back, there was a small dark stain on his shirt cuff. He paused at the door, looked down at it, then rolled the cuff twice and walked in like nothing had happened. Sat back down by the bed."It's done. I've dealt with everyone involved—everyone connected." His voice was calm.I looked at him, then reached out and took his hand. He froze, staring down at my hand covering his. His knuckles curled slight
Wait for Me in the Alley Chapter 5
That afternoon, I was cornered by three men in the supermarket parking lot. One of them pressed a gun to my lower back and shoved me into a black van. They tied my hands and feet, wrapped a black cloth over my head. I heard one of them make a call: "Mr. Richardson, we've got Olivia Myers. South side, abandoned warehouse. Come alone."I was terrified. They threw me onto the concrete floor. Someone yanked off my hood, traced the tip of a knife along my collar. "Caleb's girl cleans up nice." I curled up and didn't dare move, repeating Caleb's words in my head—I can keep you safe.He came. Alone. In less than forty minutes.When the warehouse door kicked open, he was covered in blood, smoke still curling from his gun. He pulled me off the ground and put me behind him, then turned and put three more rounds into the men lying on the floor. Then he wrapped his jacket around me and drove back to the villa without a word—fast, the streetlights blurring into a single line outside the window.Tha
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