ZAYLA

I hadn't died yet. That was progress.

Two days in this place and I still didn't know the hell I was. A hostage? A guest? or some poor idiot caught in a three-way power game between men who looked like gods and acted like devils.

They gave me one of the guest rooms. Fed me. Let me sleep for long hours. Let me do whatever I want. But made it painfully clear I wouldn’t be leaving. And denied me access to cell phones or anything on the internet.

So, literally... I'm stuck in a large house with three huge Italian men, and totally no idea which part of New...