Prevail: A Dark Reverse Harem Romance: Los Diablos Syndicate Book 4 (Part One) by Bex Dawn

Author:Bex Dawn [Dawn, Bex]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2023-10-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

I’ve been awake in this damn cell for hours, my body aching and my mind spinning. Fury courses through me like a raging beast as I stare at the cold, unyielding cinder block wall before me. How the hell did they manage to capture me? I was supposed to protect Ella and my brothers, and I failed.

Failed.

The memories play on a loop in my head, taunting me. I remember the chaos, the sudden attack, and the adrenaline-fueled frenzy as I fought back against our attackers. Three of them, and it took all three to bring me down. They bound my hands, shoved a suffocating hood over my head, and still, I fought…for her.

I saw her being ripped away from me, her screams for us echoing in my ears as they dragged her away. I tried to crawl toward her, my voice hoarse from shouting her name, but it was too late.

It was too late for all of us.

They were gone, and I was left here, chained and helpless to do a fucking thing about it.

I clench my fists, my knuckles white with rage, as I recall the feeling of powerlessness. I should have been stronger, faster, smarter. I should have protected her. My brothers, too. They needed me, and I let them down.

With a growl of frustration, I turn away from the wall and start pacing the cramped cell. I’ve already checked every inch of it; I know I’m alone in here. But the anger, the fear, and the guilt still gnaw at me, leaving me restless and consumed by the need to find them, to rescue Ella and my brothers from whatever hellhole they’ve been taken to.

I won’t rest until I have answers. Until I have them back. And whoever did this to us, they’ll pay with their blood for the pain they’ve inflicted on us all. For taking her from us.

Isabella.

I run a hand through my hair and shoot a glare at my filthy pile of clothes. I stripped off the blood-soaked mess the second I woke up, knowing it would only rot and fester the longer I’m stuck in here, and getting sick isn’t something I can afford. I’d rather be cold than weak, powerless.

Never again.

This isn’t my first time in a cell, but it is the first time I’m locked up without knowing why or where.

The memory of my final moments of consciousness comes rushing back, haunting my thoughts as I continue to pace the few feet I’m allowed.

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