Page 7

Sarah

The days blur together in the cold, dim cell. I’ve lost track of time—whether it’s morning or night, whether it’s been hours or days since they threw me in here. The silence is suffocating, broken only by the occasional sound of footsteps echoing through the hallway outside. My mind races, bouncing between fear and anger, trying to hold on to some shred of sanity.

I sit on the hard floor, my back against the cold wall, knees drawn up to my chest. I’ve been replaying the same thoughts over and over, searching for any glimmer of hope. Kace has to know I’m missing by now. He has eyes everywhere. The question gnaws at me, relentless and unforgiving—will he come for me?

I’ve served him loyally for years, doing the dirty work no one else could. I’ve taken risks, hacked into systems that should’ve been impenetrable, and delivered results time and time again. I was valuable, an asset he couldn’t afford to lose—or so I thought.

Here I am, rotting away in this cell, and there’s been no sign of rescue. No indication that Kace is even trying to get me out.

Would he pay to get me back? Would he risk his empire for me? The doubts creep in, clawing at my mind, and I can’t shake them. Kace Preston is a man who calculates everything, who weighs costs against benefits with ruthless efficiency. Maybe, in his mind, I’m not worth the trouble. Maybe he’s already written me off as a loss.

Sophia… Sophia would fight for me. I know she would. She might be Kace’s daughter, but she’s not cut from the same cold, calculating cloth. She’s the one person who’s seen me as more than just a tool, more than just a weapon in her father’s arsenal. If she knew where I was, she’d move heaven and earth to get me out. I cling to that thought like a lifeline, but it’s a fragile hope.

Then there’s the other side of it, the darker thoughts that won’t let me rest. What happens if no one comes? If I’m left here, forgotten, what will Ivan and his Russians do to me? They haven’t touched me yet, but the threat is always there, hanging in the air like a storm cloud. Ivan’s cold, calculating eyes haunt me even in the dark. He’s trying to break me, waiting for me to crack.

The fear is a constant, gnawing presence, and I can’t help but imagine the worst. Torture? Death? Worse? I’ve heard stories about the Bratva, about what they do to people who cross them. They’ve already made it clear that I’m not useful to them in any physical sense, so what do they have in store for me?

I can’t let myself think like this. I have to stay strong, keep my mind sharp. I can’t afford to lose it in here, to let the fear win. The silence is loud, the darkness pressing in on all sides, and I’m running out of ways to fight it.

I squeeze my eyes shut, forcing myself to breathe, to think of Sophia, of the possibility that she’s out there, trying to find me. It’s a thin thread, but it’s all I have. I just have to hold on a little longer.

The door creaks open, and I instinctively tense, my heart leaping into my throat. The dim light from the hallway spills into the room, casting long shadows across the cold concrete floor. One of the guards steps in, his heavy boots echoing against the walls. He’s a big guy, broad-shouldered, with a face that’s hard to read—expressionless, almost mechanical. My pulse quickens as he turns and locks the door behind him, the sound of the bolt sliding into place sending a shiver down my spine.

I push myself further back against the wall, trying to make myself as small as possible, every nerve in my body screaming for me to be ready for whatever comes next. Fear grips me as he steps closer, his eyes dark and unreadable. My mind races with possibilities, each one worse than the last. This is it—this is where things start to go downhill fast.

Without a word, he stops in front of me and slowly begins to unbutton the top three buttons of his shirt. Panic flares in my chest, and I swallow hard, readying myself for a fight I know I can’t win. But then, as he pulls the fabric aside, I see it—inked onto his chest is a familiar snake tattoo, coiled and menacing, exactly like the one I have.

I blink, my breath catching in my throat as realization dawns. He’s one of us. Relief floods through me, so intense that I almost sag against the wall. He works for Kace. He’s here to help.

“You scared the hell out of me,” I whisper, my voice shaky but full of relief. “I thought—”

“Quiet,” he cuts me off, his tone low but firm. He glances over his shoulder, as if to make sure no one’s listening, before turning back to me. “You don’t have much time.”

I nod, still trying to steady my breathing. The fear lingers, but it’s tempered now by the knowledge that I’m not alone. Help has come, even if it’s in a form I wasn’t expecting.

He crouches down to my level, his eyes sharp and calculating. “Did you share anything with Ivan? Anything sensitive about the Prestons or the American family?”

I frown, shaking my head quickly. “Of course not. I wouldn’t give them anything. I’m loyal to Kace.”

The man’s eyes search mine, as if weighing the truth in my words. For a moment, I wonder if he believes me—if he trusts that I haven’t cracked under the pressure. Then, slowly, a grin spreads across his face, full of something like approval.

The grin on his face sends a chill down my spine, but I force myself to stay calm, to keep up the facade that I’ve managed to hold together. For a moment, I think he’s going to reassure me, tell me that help is on the way, that Kace has a plan to get me out of here.

Then, his hand moves to his pocket, and my breath catches as he pulls out a knife, the blade catching the dim light of the cell.

It takes me a second to process what’s happening, the shift in the air around us, the change in his demeanor. I stare at the blade, my mind racing to make sense of it. This isn’t help—this is something else, something far more dangerous.

“I’m not here to get you out,” he says, his voice eerily calm, as if he’s discussing something mundane. “Kace doesn’t want to risk it. You’ve done well, Sarah, but… there’s too much at stake.”

His words hit me like a slap. Kace isn’t coming for me. He’s not planning a rescue; he’s not even negotiating. He’s decided I’m a liability, that the risk of me exposing sensitive information to Ivan is too great. The realization is like a punch to the gut, knocking the air out of my lungs. He’s willing to get rid of me—to end my life—to protect his secrets.

“No,” I whisper, shaking my head in disbelief as I back away, pressing myself against the cold, unforgiving wall. “You can’t be serious. I haven’t said anything—I wouldn’t—”

“That’s the problem,” he cuts me off, his eyes hardening. “Kace can’t take that chance. You know too much. If Ivan breaks you, if you slip up, it’s all over.”

He takes a step closer, and I feel the cold of the wall seep into my bones. My heart races, pounding in my chest so loudly I’m sure he can hear it. This can’t be happening. I’ve been loyal, I’ve done everything Kace asked of me, and this is how he repays me? By sending someone to kill me, to silence me forever?

“Please,” I start, trying to keep my voice steady, but the fear is creeping in, making it crack. “I won’t say anything. I swear, I’ll—”

“It’s not up to you anymore,” he says, taking another step, the knife glinting ominously in his hand. “It’s not about what you’ll do—it’s about what you might do. Kace can’t afford to have loose ends, and right now, that’s what you are.”

Panic surges through me, and I push off the wall, trying to put more distance between us. There’s nowhere to go, nowhere to run in this small, confined space. “You don’t have to do this,” I plead, my voice trembling. “I’m on your side—I’m loyal to Kace—”

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even hesitate. His expression is grim, resolved. He’s not here to negotiate; he’s here to finish the job.

I scramble backward, my mind racing, searching for a way out, for something to fight back with, but there’s nothing. Just the cold, hard reality that I’ve been abandoned, left to die in this godforsaken cell.

“Please,” I whisper one last time, my voice barely audible as he closes the distance between us. The knife glints again, and I know this is it. Kace has made his choice, and I’m the one who’s going to pay the price.