Page 34 of Sin in My Inbox (Sexting Spark #1)
"Let me finish!" She lowered her voice, speaking rapidly but crystal clear.
"This is the only way to see your mother as quickly and directly as possible, and confirm her location.
You need to let them 'catch' you and take you to that clinic.
I'll follow you secretly the whole time, keeping track of your location.
It's my father's clinic—I'll find a way to create a distraction to draw the guards' attention and hide you both.
What you need to do is wait for my signal, grab that fleeting opportunity, and get your mother out through the clinic's back door or emergency exit. "
Ella's eyes were determined. "Remember, Avery, no matter what happens, stay absolutely calm!
Your fear and panic will get you and your mother killed!
Make them think you've given up, that you're scared, that you're willing to cooperate.
Your mother's life depends on how well you perform in front of them. "
The next stretch of time felt both incredibly urgent and incredibly long.
We hid in the most secluded corner of the hallway, whispering, going over every possible detail of the plan.
Every aspect was confirmed repeatedly, and every potential accident had a backup plan.
This life-or-death conspiracy was quickly finalized in the tense atmosphere.
When everything was finally settled, Ella immediately pulled down her cap to hide her face, preparing to leave.
Her voice was soft, with a hint of sympathy. "Time's running out. I need to go make arrangements. Take care of yourself and the baby."
"Thank you."
I nodded firmly, took a deep breath, and forced all my fear and vulnerability back into my heart.
The afternoon sun was blinding. People were coming and going at the hospital entrance, each carrying their own anxieties and hopes.
I immediately spotted the unremarkable black Toyota that Ella had described, lurking like a poisonous snake, quietly parked in the shade by the roadside.
The windows were tinted dark—I couldn't see inside.
I could feel at least two cold stares penetrating the crowd, locked onto me.
I forced myself to keep my pace steady, even deliberately showing some distracted anxiety, like an ordinary daughter worried about her mother's condition.
My heart was pounding in my chest, almost ready to break through my ribs.
Just as I reached the hospital's front steps, only a few yards from that black car—
The rear door suddenly flew open!
A strong hand shot out and grabbed my arm like a steel clamp! The massive force yanked my whole body, nearly lifting my feet off the ground!
"Ah!" I let out a short scream. Before I could react, I was roughly dragged into the car. The door slammed shut behind me with a bang, cutting off all light and sound from outside.
The car reeked of heavy smoke and leather. Two burly, expressionless men flanked me in the back seat. In the passenger seat, a man wearing sunglasses turned his head and gave me a cold glance. No conversation, no explanations. The driver hit the gas, and the car shot forward into traffic.
I was squeezed in the middle, my body rigid, fear like actual ice water filling my limbs.
I could feel the menacing aura radiating from the men beside me.
They took my phone and bag with rough, practiced movements.
I tried to follow Ella's instructions, showing fear and submission—trembling slightly, keeping my head down, not daring to make eye contact with anyone.
But in my mind, I was frantically memorizing what I saw outside the windows: that blue-roofed fast food joint, that intersection with the huge billboard. ..
The car twisted and turned, eventually leaving the busy downtown area and entering a run-down industrial district.
Finally, it stopped in front of a massive, rust-stained abandoned warehouse.
The roll-up door made an ear-piercing grinding sound as it slowly rose.
The car drove inside, and the door slammed down behind us, cutting off the last trace of daylight.
I was roughly pulled out of the car. The warehouse interior was vast and gloomy, with high ceilings letting down a few pale beams of light that illuminated the dust dancing in the air.
I was shoved forward a few steps. From the shadows of towering stacks of abandoned wooden crates in the depths of the warehouse, a figure slowly emerged.
Vladimir Ivanov.
His presence brought a suffocating sense of oppression.
Years and bone-deep hatred had carved deep grooves into his face, his eyes like poisoned ice picks—cold and cruel.
It was the aura of death that settled after countless bloody massacres.
Just the sweep of his gaze made me feel like a venomous snake had wrapped around my neck, sending chills from my spine straight to the top of my head.
"Avery Carter." His voice was low and raspy. He slowly approached, his leather shoes echoing hollowly on the concrete floor in the empty warehouse.
I forced myself to stand straight. Even though my legs were shaking like crazy, anger was holding me up, refusing to let me completely collapse in front of this monster.
I lifted my head and looked directly into those cold, emotionless eyes.
In those bottomless pupils, I saw pure malice—the kind that feeds on others' suffering.
"Where is my mother?" My voice came out surprisingly hard and cold.
"In a very safe place." He stopped a few steps away from me. "I need you to be my most loyal little bird, fly back to Dmitri, watch him for me, and tell me his every move."
The corner of his mouth twisted into a cruel arc. "Otherwise," he deliberately drew out the word, that smile like a gaping wound, "you'll never, ever see your dear mommy again."
"I can do that. But I have conditions. I need to see my mother first, confirm with my own eyes that she's safe and sound. Otherwise, all you'll get is a walking corpse, a piece of shit who could betray you at any moment."
Vladimir let out a low laugh. "Oh, pretty little thing, you think you're in a position to negotiate with me?" He narrowed his eyes, dangerous light flickering in their depths. However, after a moment of silence, the curve of his mouth seemed to deepen slightly.
"But your stubbornness is actually kind of impressive.
Fine, I can grant you this little wish. After all," he said slowly, his eyes evaluating me like I was a piece of merchandise, "I need a tool that's willing to work for me, not a troublemaker full of resentment who might screw things up.
Cooperation requires a little good faith. "
I closed my eyes, feeling fate's shackles settle heavily on my shoulders. In this world woven from lies, betrayal, and violence, I—an insignificant nobody—had been pushed to the very center of the storm.