Page 209 of My Treasured Obsession

Trepidation rushed through my veins when I checked Luna for injuries. Physically, she appeared fine, but she released a pitiful noise when I touched her back leg, letting me know she was actually hurt.

When I tried to grab her, she ducked out of my arms with a sharp yowl and trotted across the road. Confused, I followed after her with a grim expression.

She kept circling an area across the road, beckoning me closer.

I froze upon seeing more blood smeared against the asphalt.

I stared at the sight with vengeance.

Please, please, please. Don’t tell me that’s Gabriela’s blood.

To confirm my worst suspicions, Luna meowed and directed my attention towards the side of the road, where a familiar pearl bracelet mocked me.

It belonged to Gabriela.

My fingers shook as I picked up the discarded item, clutching it in my palm fiercely as if that would keep my anger and tears at bay.

Not too far away from her bracelet, there was another item.

A fallen, slim leather wallet.

I picked it up.

When I flipped it open to reveal a flurry of credit cards and a driver’s licence…every breath, every heartbeat, every thought came to a standstill.

The photographed face of Tom Prescott stared back at me.

My haunted eyes rose to Luna. Her gaze never wavered from mine.

She tilted her head as if silently confirming my question.

At that exact moment, two more things occurred.

Bulletproof cars rushed in on the scene, filled with Remington guards.

And my phone rang, Josh’s caller ID flashing on the screen.

Numbly, I picked it up and brought it to my ear, not saying a word.

Josh did all the talking for me. “We know where she is.”

CHAPTER 50

Finally Over

Gabriela

Iawoke to dampness and a blurry vision.

The first thing that welcomed me was a painful, splitting sensation travelling over my face like a fissure, where the skin of my cheek stung from Tom’s smack. It was followed by a deep-seated ache in my entire body. Every inch of me throbbed. My hands, zip-tied in front of me. My back, hips, and legs, from how I’d been dragged across the road. And in my head, from the newly pounding headache.

My senses were slower than usual as I struggled to take inventory of my new environment, my eyes barely registering a low ceiling. Four walls. Concrete ground. A faded light coming from somewhere to my right.

Where the hell was I and how much time had passed since Tom kidnapped me?

I fought the sob choking its way up, trying to calm myself down and muster the mental strength to get out of this hellhole.

What did I do to deserve this? Why had my seemingly unbothered ex-fling—who broke up with me of hisownvolition—turn out to be a fucking psycho?