Chapter 27 – Ellie
I sat strapped to a wooden chair in a dimly lit room, my hands and feet bound with ropes that tore into my flesh. My heart was pounding in my chest, my pulse quickening by the second. But I refused to let them see me break.
Three armed men were in the room with me: two at the door, one behind me. None of them had said a word. They all just stood there, unmoving, fingers inches from the triggers of their guns.
Struggling against the ropes that bound me was a waste of time. The knots were tied so tightly that the more I struggled, the more they hurt. So I sat in the stillness, waiting for whatever fate awaited me.
Even though I had no idea where I was or how much time had passed, I knew deep down that Karik was already looking for me. He was going to find me; I just needed to get him more time.
My heart shattered as I recalled Agata’s motionless body in my arms. I still couldn’t believe she was dead. And it was all my fault. I never should’ve asked her to come with me.
I should’ve listened to her and asked the driver to turn the car around. She told me she had a bad feeling about being out in the city, but I didn’t take her seriously. Now she was gone. And it was my fault.
Tears stung my eyes, but I refused to shed them. Not here. Not now. These bastards didn’t deserve to see me break.
Karik, where are you? Please hurry.
In the deadly silence, I overheard a voice in the hallway say something like, “Tell Niklaus Varro to call me later.”
I couldn’t catch the words that followed next. But one thing was certain: Whoever my kidnappers were, they were in league with Niklaus Varro, the same man Karik had been looking for for over a decade.
The front door opened with a loud creak, revealing a rather short man at the entrance. He was dressed in a dark suit, with a cigar clutched between his lips.
His polished shoes scuffed against the concrete floor as he walked toward me. One hand was buried in his pocket, his cold, hollow eyes boring into mine.
His dark hair was slicked back, the Rolex on his wrist glinting in the soft light. The aura he exuded, the confidence, and that scary gaze of his told me he was the boss. Most likely the previous speaker from the hallway outside.
He halted in front of me and released a puff of smoke in my face. The smell of tobacco, mixed with that whiskey, drifted into my nostrils.
I didn’t flinch—didn’t look away either.
“Who are you?” I asked him. “What do you want with me?”
His lips curled into a mischievous smirk. “I’ll be asking the questions, feisty pants,” he said in accented English. “First off, where did you learn to fight like that?” He leaned in. “I saw the footage. You knocked out one of my best men with a single swing.” A quiet laugh fell from his mouth.
“It’s not my fault your ‘best men’ fight like women,” I replied without taking my eyes off him.
A pause.
That smirk was retained on his lips. “Now I see why Karik chose you as his wife.” He dragged on his cigarette. “You’re a fighter.”
I didn’t respond.
“Look, you’re pretty, and it’s going to be quite unfortunate if anything were to happen to your face…or any other part of your body.”
The slight pause came when his gaze dropped to my chest region as if he could see through the fabric of my dress.
Pervert.
“But you’re in luck. I don’t hit women,” he continued. “So let’s get straight to why you’re here. I ask the questions. You provide me with the answers I need.”
A beat.
“Sound good?”
I hesitated, then slowly leaned in. “Go to hell.”
He heaved a sigh, lowered his head, and rubbed his temples. “Unfortunately, I can’t.” His expression darkened. “We’re already there.”
At his signal, the man behind me walked over to my front and turned my cheek with a dirty backhand slap. The rings on his fingers made the impact even worse. My head snapped to the side, and for the next few seconds, all I heard was a loud ringing in my ear.
In the fleeting moments when my eyelids closed, I saw stars. Literal, twinkling stars. By the time I opened my eyes again, my vision was blurry, and the world seemed to swirl around me.
Fuck, that hurt like hell.
My eyes were heavy, my head was pounding, and that stupid ringing was still not dying down. All from just one factory reset slap?
“Hey!” The short man’s voice echoed off the walls as he tried to catch my eyes. “Look at me,” he said.
I did. But there were two of him, and I had yet to figure out which one was the real him.
“How many fingers am I holding up?” he asked, voice still echoing in my head.
I knew he had two fingers up, but because I was seeing double of everything, I saw four. Damn, that slap had landed really hard.
After blinking a few times, my vision cleared, and the ringing stopped.
“I told you I didn’t hit women,” he said, looking right at me. “I never said these guys didn’t.”
Karik, please find me on time.
I wept on the inside but kept a straight face on the outside.
“Now, where were we?” he continued. “Ahh, that’s right. I ask. You answer.”
“Whatever it is you think I know, I don’t.”
He hesitated. “Let me be the judge of that.”
Silence.
“What do you know about the Vetrov case?” he asked.
I swallowed, masking my unease with a frown.
“Don’t make me ask a second time.” It was a threat and also a warning.
I glanced at the tall man who’d struck me earlier, and the idiot was already cracking his knuckles.
“Keep your fucking hands to yourself,” I said to him before facing the short man. “I know that the man was framed for a crime he did not commit.”
“Hmm.” He bent over, hands on his knees. “What else do you know?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
A pause.
“Do you honestly think I wanna get hit in the face again? I’m telling you the truth. That’s all I know about the case.”
“So you’re saying that your husband didn’t tell you anything else?” He straightened and began slowly walking around me.
“Anything like what?”
He made his way to my front again and locked eyes with me. “Did he mention any other name linked to the case?”
“No.”
“Did he tell you what really happened all those years ago and who orchestrated the bombing of that warehouse?”
Silence.
Then I broke it. “If you know Karik Tarasov very well, you’ll know that he’s a man of few words. He’s very secretive and won’t open up to anyone. What makes you think he let me in on such a secret?”
“For starters, you’re his wife,” he answered. “And my sources tell me he’s beginning to grow fond of you.”
Again, silence.
“My husband didn’t tell me anything about the Vetrov case,” I said finally. “He only said there were forces at play that I didn’t understand. He asked me to drop the case. And I have.”
He waited, his eyes never leaving my face. “Are you lying to me right now?”
Of course I am, you crazy son of a bitch.
“My life is literally in your hands. Why would I do that?” I replied, my expression unchanging.
He stared at me like he was looking for a truth he knew I was hiding.
“Quick question,” I began. “Did you kidnap me and bring me all the way out here just because you wanted to find out what I know about the Vetrov case?”
He hesitated. “Amongst other things.”
My expression turned dark. “My friend died because you wanted to ask me some stupid questions?”
“Collateral damage,” he said flatly. “Deal with it.”
My lips quivered as all that rage flooded me all at once. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
No answer.
It was a rhetorical question anyway.
I continued, “You’ve just doomed yourself and everyone else in this room.”
He furrowed his brows.
“By kidnapping the wife of Karik Tarasov, you’ve gained his attention—his full attention,” I went on. “You said it yourself: He’s starting to grow fond of me. Men like him are possessive and protective. Steal from them, and they’ll burn the world looking for you.”
I saw it, a glimpse of fear in his eyes. It was subtle. But it was there. Good. My words were getting to him.
“I’m not afraid of Karik Tarasov.”
“You should be,” I interrupted. “You know the man. You know what he’s capable of. Yet you killed his men and kidnapped his wife.” I clicked my tongue rapidly. “If I were you, I’d be halfway across the country by now.”
He laughed. “You’ve got a sharp tongue and a vivid imagination. But I hate to break it to you: This isn’t a Hollywood movie.”
“My husband will find me,” I said, my voice laced with conviction. “And you better not be here when he does.”
“Oh, he will find you, dear.” A small smirk tugged at one corner of his mouth. “The question is….” He pulled out his gun and aimed it at me. “…will he find you…or your corpse?”
My heart skipped a beat as I stared death right in the eyes.
“You can put a bullet in my head right now,” I said. “But rest assured: My husband will hunt you down like an animal. And that’s when you’ll realize there’s no place on earth to hide from him.”
His jaw tightened, finger hovering over the trigger.
“Trust me, there isn’t a version of this where he won’t find you. And when he does…he will kill you,” I growled, concealing my fear and anxiety.
“Until then,” he replied. “Any last words?”
I hesitated. “Screw you.”
And with that, I closed my eyes, waiting for my end. The sound of the gun cocking echoed in my head. Then I heard it.
Bang!