Page 26

My head was banging like a drum, my eyelids fluttering open with a hazy vision that cleared gradually after a few blinks.

The room was dimly lit, a faint light filtering in through what seemed like a grimy ventilation fan embedded high up on the wall.

Its slow, almost hypnotic spin cast fractured shadows across the cracked concrete floor where I lay on my side.

The air was thick with the intoxicating scent of metal, cold and rusted, that bit at my nose with every breath. My breath hitched in my throat, my eyes wide with fear and anxiety as I took on this creepy environment. I could almost taste it on my tongue—the stench: stale, coppery, and industrial.

The walls were high, bare, and stained with what looked like red paint. I knew what that stain was, but for now, I’d rather just pretend it was paint. This wasn’t just an empty room; it was some kind of torture site, a holding cell, or worse.

My heart pounded in my chest, my eyes roaming this literal hellhole, wondering how the fuck I ended up here. One minute, I was lying in bed, and the next, I was here, freezing to death in the dark chamber. The chill was unbearable, the kind that sank into your bones and made your teeth ache.

I could hear the subtle sound of water dripping in irregular intervals somewhere nearby, echoing like a ticking clock in this timeless room.

My brain had yet to register what the actual fuck was going on or how I moved from Sergei’s mansion to this horrible place.

I tried to get up, and that was when I realized both my hands were bound together behind my back.

“What the fuck?” I murmured, struggling against the rope digging into my skin, tied too tightly to allow circulation.

My wrists burned, hurting like hell the more I tried to free myself.

My arms ached from being held in the same position for too long.

I wanted to scream for help, but on second thought, I kept my mouth shut.

I’d be useless. I’d been kidnapped and was probably leagues away from civilization.

The only people who would hear my scream would be the ones who kidnapped me.

Relax, Ayla, calm down, I thought to myself, breathing slowly, in through my nose, out through my mouth.

The last thing I wanted to do was panic. It would only disorient my thoughts and make things worse. If I was going to survive this, then I needed my head in the game, and to do that, I had to remain calm first.

How’d I get here? What was the last thing I remembered?

I drew a deep, long breath, regardless of the metallic stench in the air. That was the least of my problems right now. I closed my eyes and tried to recall what had happened to me. The more I concentrated, the clearer the images forming in my head became.

I rinsed my face in the bathroom sink after brushing my teeth and stared at my reflection in the mirror. My mind still hadn’t gotten over Sergei’s act of kindness toward Max, the stray dog, and toward me. I shouldn’t be wondering where he slept last night, but I couldn’t help it.

Deep down, I missed having him in bed with me, even though he was only absent for one night since our wedding day. Of course, I’d never admit that to anyone, but it was true, and I hated how my emotions betrayed me like that.

Max barked from inside the bedroom. Barked again, this time, more aggressively, like he was trying to scare something or someone away. That was strange. It was just me and Max in here, no one else, and I hadn’t opened the bedroom door yet. So, who or what was he barking at?

I tried to ignore it, but Max wouldn’t stop, and with each passing second, he grew more and more aggressive. It was almost impossible to pretend like I couldn’t hear it. “Max, what is it?” I called out, rolling my eyes as I headed out of the bathroom.

There he was, sitting scared in a corner, whimpering, pressing himself against the floor. His tail was tucked, ears flattened, with eyes widened in terror—a stark contrast to the aggressive barks I heard seconds ago.

“Hey, buddy, are you okay?” I strolled over to him, chuckling, oblivious to the threat in my room. “You dramatic little puppy.”

A gentle breeze whistled into the room, forcing me to stop in my tracks. I turned around and saw the window slightly open. My eyes squinted, my head tilting to the side. “Hmm. I thought I locked that last night.”

Max barked again, and the moment I turned in the dog’s direction, I froze on the spot, wincing at the needle piercing my skin. My eyes widened in shock and terror at the masked figure towering over me with a syringe to my neck.

I felt numb all of a sudden, my vision blurring by the second. My head was heavy, my heart pounding in my chest as I wondered who this was and how they managed to get past Sergei’s security.

It seemed like the world was swirling around me; my knees quaked, and Max’s barks echoed in my head. I stumbled back, struggling to get a grip on myself, my eyes blinking to stay awake. But whatever I was injected with seemed to be stronger than my will to fight.

Even with my drowsy sight and blurry vision, I saw Max charge at my attacker, biting their foot. However, with one kick, the dog yelped, crashing a few paces away.

I swung a flimsy punch at the approaching figure, but I ended up falling into their arms instead. Weak and fragile. The figure’s grip tightened around me, their gloved hand over my mouth. I felt myself drifting unconscious, my heartbeat slowing down with each passing second.

My eyes were too heavy to stay open, my body too weak to respond—to fight back. The sounds around me faded into the background, and the last name I thought of before it all went blank was Sergei .

A slight groan escaped my lips, and I struggled to sit up in that uncomfortable position.

My heart sank in my chest, eyes darting toward the entrance when I heard the front door creak open.

A figure stood at the entrance, their face concealed by the light spilling behind them, flickering fluorescent bulbs in the hallway outside.

This figure, shaped like a man, walked in with menacing steps, slow and deliberate. The hallway light glinted off a discarded blade, lying carelessly somewhere nearby. Seizing the opportunity, I dragged myself over there and sat up, concealing the knife behind me.

My fingers fumbled at my back, scraping against the dusty floor. Blindly, I struggled to grasp the blade’s hilt while still looking right at the approaching figure.

They halted in front of me, shrouded in the darkness of the dimly lit room. The scent of their cologne was really familiar, but I just couldn’t place where or on whom I’d smelled it.

“Who are you?” I asked, trying to sound as calm as I could. “Why did you kidnap me?” My fingers continued fumbling behind me until I did it; I gripped the blade’s hilt firmly.

The figure’s footsteps echoed off the walls as they stepped out into the open, eyes wild, red-rimmed with fury.

My jaw dropped. Breath hitched in my throat as a wave of shock, fear, and bitter disappointment washed over me all at once.

I knew it; I knew that cologne smelled really familiar.

“Lucas?” My lips trembled, heart hammering in my chest as I tried to make sense of what was happening.

“What’s going on? What’re you doing?” I stuttered, confused and afraid.

“Don’t act all innocent with me, Ayla,” he snarled, his voice low, thick with resentment and anger. “I’m sure you weren’t so innocent when you were fucking him.” His scowl deepened, his chest heaving dangerously.

Whoa! That was so harsh.

The venom in his words left me stunned; my lips parted slightly in silence.

That blow struck me deeper than a dagger to the chest, like being split open from the inside.

This wasn’t the Lucas that I knew—the charming young man with a warm smile and a kind heart.

This one had the devil in his eyes, and there was no telling what he had planned for me.

Cut faster, I urged myself, my fingers working desperately behind me, dragging the ropes against the jagged edge of the blade in my hold.

He drew closer. “What’s the matter, Ayla? Cat got your tongue, hmm? You’re not gonna defend yourself? You’re not gonna tell me I’m wrong?”

I swallowed hard, angling my wrist just right, hoping he wouldn’t notice the slight twitch of my arm or the faint scraping sound of fiber slowly giving way to steel.

“Answer me!” he thundered, his voice echoing in the silence. Lucas crouched to my level and leaned in to mirror my face, his breath hot against my skin.

I shut my eyes, shaking like a leaf, but I wouldn’t stop cutting through the rope, even though it dug into my skin, burning raw. “Lucas, please…” I murmured, pleading with my eyes.

His hand snapped out and gripped my jaw tightly. “Did you, or did you not, fuck another man while engaged to me?” he rephrased, his fingers digging deeper into my skin, his eyes locked to mine.

Tears stung my eyes, but I wouldn’t let them drop. I could feel the rope loosening the more I cut. Just a little longer. “I’m sorry…Lucas. I’m sorry,” I mumbled, biting down the pain in my jawline.

“You’re sorry?” A scoff escaped his lips, and he let go of my mouth.

I let out a sharp gasp, struggling to catch my breath. The pain from his grip hadn’t settled yet when a loud slap turned my cheek to the other side. The strike was so powerful that I nearly hit my head on the floor, almost losing grip of the dagger in my hand.

My chest heaved rapidly, my eyes blinking as if trying to come to terms with the fact that he’d just hit me in the face. Sergei was cruel, but at least he never raised a hand to me. Not even once.

That’s the man I nearly ended up with? Fuck, I truly dodged a bullet. Couldn’t say the same about the slap, though. My actions weren’t justified, but it wasn’t like I ever loved him or anything; I was just a victim of a sticky situation.

Sergei was right. He was no different from them. There were no good men in this world—just devils in suits.

“Do you know the amount of damage you caused my family? Do you have any idea what your infidelity did to my reputation?!” he yelled, frustration laced in his voice. “You ruined my name, Ayla. You disgraced my family and all that we stand for!”

Almost there. Almost there. I kept cutting faster and faster.

He paced back and forth, fingers combing through his hair.

“And to think I came so close to marrying a fuckin’ whore!

” He kicked an empty can, and it clanked away, bouncing off the concrete floor.

“Goddamn it!” He withdrew a pistol and walked back to me, the barrel aimed at my forehead.

“Your lover, Sergei Tarasov, tortured me for weeks. Now, it’s your turn to feel a fraction of what I felt in the hands of that monster. ”

Snap.

The knife cut through the ropes, the fiber sliding loosely off my wrists. I was free.

“Can I tell you something?” I began, my voice a little above a whisper.

He crouched to my level again, leaning in to listen to what I had to say, his gun slightly lowered.

“Sergei was right,” I muttered, looking right into his eyes, my grip tightening around the blade’s hilt. “You’re no saint. You’re just another monster.” With that, I swung the dagger at him, the blunt blade slicing across his face.

“Fuck!” He bellowed, stumbling backward, off balance.

I seized the moment, sprang to my feet, and barreled past him, my shoulder slamming into his as I forced my way through. With all that adrenaline surging through me, I made a run for the door, ignoring Lucas’s wails behind me.

The fluorescent lights flickered in the hallway as I ran like my life depended on it. Actually, my life did depend on it. I didn’t slow down, especially after hearing him barking orders to his men. I had no idea where I was or where I was going; I just kept running.

A few doors lined both sides of the hallway, but each one I slowed down to check was locked. “Shit,” I cursed under my breath.

Thick voices and heavy footsteps rushed up behind me, accompanied by Lucas’s raging voice, “Find that bitch!”

I shot a nervous glance over my shoulder, catching the flickering shadows of men closing in, their outlines dancing along the wall like a warning. If they rounded that corner, I’d be done for. I picked up the pace, sprinting as fast as my legs could carry me.

Luckily for me, I found a door on the east wing that gave way with a single push. However, I should have slowed down, and because I didn’t, I tripped over the stairs on the other side, tumbling down with a grunt, each step slamming into me all the way.

My body ached, and I could’ve sworn that I’d broken at least one rib. The pain was unbearable, breathing was suddenly difficult, and all I could do was wheeze, straining against the agony sprinting through my body.

“Over here!” one of the men yelled, his voice echoing through the hallway.

I groaned, struggling to stand, a hand over my ribcage.

It wasn’t until I tried to run that I realized I’d also sprained my ankle.

“Argh!” I hissed, limping and dragging my injured foot, my eyes fixed on the bright light at the far end of the room.

I could see the trees and the greenery—freedom, if only I could make it outside.

A loud gunshot rang out in the air, forcing me to freeze in my tracks, my hands reflexively raising over my head in surrender.

“One more step, and the next one goes through your skull,” Lucas’s voice came from behind me.

Slowly, I turned around, and there he was, seething silently with his men flanking him on both sides. His face was bleeding, the slanted cut deeper than I had thought. He was furious, his eyes blazing red and jaw tightening.

“You fought well,” he said, “but there’s nowhere else to run, Ayla.

” He wiped the blood from his face. “For what you’ve done, I’ll let my men have their way with you.

One by one, they will take turns on you while I film the whole thing and post it on social media for all to see. ” His lips twisted into a dark grin.

I shook my head, my eyes wide with terror as I realized just how cruel Lucas was.

He drew closer. “You humiliated my family, and now I’ll humiliate yours and the Tarasovs. You will never recover from this. Take her away,” he ordered.

His men rushed up and seized me by force, dragging me back toward the stairs I had fallen from.

My heart shattered into a million tiny pieces, and I was too numb, too weak, to even speak. Tears rolled down my cheeks, not from my fractured rib or my sprained ankle, but from the pain of realizing just how mistaken I was. Lucas was worse than Sergei, and now, my life was over because of him.

Sigmund Freud was right when he said, “The more perfect someone is on the outside, the more demons they have on the side.” Lucas just proved this to be true.