Chapter 18
My eyes slowly fluttered open, and I was immediately assaulted by the overpowering stench of rot and decay, a vile and putrid odour that seemed to cling stubbornly to the back of my throat.
Attempting to shift my position, I quickly realised that my wrists and ankles were tightly bound to a rickety wooden chair, positioning me right in the heart of a grimy, clearly abandoned room.
The coarse rope dug painfully into my skin, leaving raw, bloody marks as I struggled against it.
For a moment, I squeezed my eyes shut, before forcing them open once more.
That's when I saw it. The walls were plastered with pictures of me, covering every inch like a horrific, personal wallpaper.
A chill raced down my spine as I realised the unsettling truth: this person had been disturbingly close, even watching me as I slept.
If this was some fucked up game from the man who called himself my husband, I swear I’d kill him.
The sound system, ancient and crackling, blared my own voice on an endless loop.
My conversations with family, snippets of laughter, and whispered inside jokes with friends ricocheted around the room, creating a warped symphony that seemed to taunt me with each echo.
It felt as though my entire life had been meticulously dissected and cruelly put on display for an invisible audience.
My eyes darted frantically around the dim, oppressive space.
Cobwebs, like ghostly veils, dangled from the rotting ceiling, swaying gently in the stale air.
The threadbare carpet beneath me was stained with dark, ominous patches of blood, and the windows were heavily boarded, allowing only the faintest slivers of light to seep through.
My mind raced wildly, struggling to piece together the fragmented memories of how I had ended up trapped in this nightmarish hellhole.
And then it hit me like a wave. I remembered.
I’d just returned home, feeling drained over everything that unfolded at the warehouse when there was a bang on the front door. Upon opening it, I found three men, their faces hidden behind masks.
“Who the fuck are you?” I snapped, showing no weakness.
But that wasn’t enough. No matter how strong I was or how calculated the movements were, the second I reached for my knife was the second everything went black.
The creak of the door jolted me back to the present, as a shaft of light from the hallway cut through the room.
The same trio of men entered, their presence as unsettling as before.
Their faces were obscured by masks that left only their eyes visible, eyes that shone with a disturbing delight at seeing me awake.
Each of them was tall and lean, their frames exuding a wiry strength, and their movements were slow and deliberate, like those of predators closing in on unsuspecting prey.
My heart pounded in my chest, a frantic drumbeat that clashed with my outwardly defiant expression.
Their voices, deep and gravelly, whispered amongst themselves, carrying a familiarity that gnawed at the edges of my memory.
“If it isn’t Tweedledee, Tweedledum, and the third wheel,” I taunted, my voice steady despite the small amount of fear that ate away at my insides. I knew better than to show weakness, especially to lowlives like these. I knew how to withstand torture, no matter who it was at the hands of.
The man in the middle stepped closer, his leather-gloved hand curling into a fist at his side. “You think you’re so funny, don’t you?” he snarled.
“I mean, do you want an honest answer, dickhead?” I smirked.
His eyes narrowed behind his mask as his fist collided with my jaw, sending my head snapping to the side.
Son of a bitch!
It was at that moment that I knew this wasn’t one of Lorenzo’s games. I couldn’t imagine he’d allow someone to hurt me like that, but then again, I didn’t know him at all.
Pain exploded through my skull, but I refused to let them see me wince. Instead, I laughed. A defiant, mocking sound that filled the room. “Is that it?” I teased. “That’s your best shot?”
The other men exchanged a glance, their eyes darkened with anger as I glared at the bastard in front of me. I didn’t know if they had orders to hurt me or if they had to refrain from it, but I loved adding fuel to the fire.
The man on the left stepped forward, his fist crashing into my stomach. I gasped as my body convulsed, the air knocked from my lungs. I doubled over for a second, trying to compose my breathing, but no matter the pain I felt, I refused to cry out.
“Stop it,” the third man hissed, warning the others. “We were given strict instructions not to hurt her.”
But there was no point. The two who stood before me didn’t listen, and it was clear they didn’t care about the orders they were given.
The man who punched me in the jaw fisted my hair, yanking my head back so my eyes were forced to meet his beady ones.
“You think you’re better than us, don’t you?
” He sneered, his breath hot on my face as it travelled through the fabric of his mask.
“You think you can run that pretty mouth and get away with it?”
“You’re nothing. You’re just one of the lapdogs. You’re nothing special.” I said, already knowing what would come next. “You’re pathetic.”
His fist slammed into my face again, but that wasn’t enough. He landed another blow, splitting my lip. Blood trickled down my chin. My vision blurred, but I refused to close my eyes. I refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing me break.
“That’s enough! Fuck!” the third shouted yet again, trying to regain control of the situation.
The other man finally stopped, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. My body slumped in the chair as my head lolled to the side. Blood stained my skin as bruises bloomed across my skin. I might have been a mess, but my spirit was unbroken.
“You took it too far. He’s going to be pissed,” the third muttered, but the damage was done.
“I hope he puts a bullet in your head.” I coughed. “And if he doesn’t, I fucking will.” I laughed sarcastically to piss them off, which earned me a backhand across my cheek.
“Get out. Now,” the third demanded as he shoved one and two out the door.
I listened to their footsteps as they echoed down the hallway. And then, I finally gave into the pain I was feeling.
My body ached with every breath, but I was far from defeated. I would survive this just as I did everything else. I let my mind wander, thinking of ways to escape. This was just another challenge to overcome. I had made it through worse.
Being married to Lorenzo was one.
I succumbed to exhaustion, my eyes closing and blocking everything out except the soundtrack of my voice and the many questions that raced through my mind.
Who was the bastard who wanted me here?
Would Lorenzo even look for me or was I just a loose end he no longer needed?
I had so many questions and for the first time, I had no answers.
A sudden, shocking splash of ice cold water jolted me awake. I gasped as my eyes flew open to meet one of the three masked faces. This time, he was alone, and I knew exactly which one it was.
His breath smelled of cheap vodka and cigarettes, making my stomach churn. He loomed over me, his bulky frame blocking the faint light from the single bare bulb hanging overhead. His fingers clenched the bucket handle as the remnants of water sloshed around at the bottom.
“Wakey, wakey, princess,” he sneered. “I think it’s time to play some more, don’t you agree?”
“How about we play fetch? Do you have a ball?” I teased. “You know, since you’re pretty much a lapdog.”
His hand shot out, his fingers curled into a fist as I braced myself for the blow, my heart pounding against my ribs. But just as his fist was about to connect with my cheek, a loud crash echoed in the room. And just like that, he froze.
“Get the fuck out,” a deep voice boomed from the doorway, masked man number three coming into view.
He was taller and broader than the others. He strode into the room, shoving him aside.
“Boss didn’t want a hair on her head harmed and look at her,” he snarled. “She’s a mess!”
“Wow, thanks for the compliment.” I said, letting my head fall back as the ice water dripped down my front.
He never took his threatening eyes off me as he exited the room. Slamming the door behind him, I was left with the man who seemed to call the shots. He approached me, carrying a tray of something vile looking.
He set the tray down beside me. I cast my gaze downward, clocking what was on it.
Stale bread, a chuck of cold meat, and a bowl of what looked like watery soup.
I clenched my jaw, trying to suppress the rising urge to gag.
He grabbed the spoon, scooping up a mouthful of soup.
Before I had time to react, his gloved hand cupped my chin, forcing my head up.
“Eat,” he commanded, his breath warm against my cheek.
My eyes narrowed, defiance sparking within me. No matter how hungry I was, I would never eat something they prepared. I refused to open my mouth, as he growled in frustration, his grip tightening on my chin.
“Why can’t you just do as you’re told?” he asked with a sneer, unable to keep his cool.
In one swift movement, I bit him, clamping down hard on the flesh between his thumb and index finger. He yelped, letting a sharp intake of breath escape him. He jerked his hand back, but I held on, my teeth sinking in deeper.
“Bitch!” he bellowed, the spoon clattering to the floor as he pried my mouth open. He stumbled back, cradling his hand as his mask slipped slightly.
“I was trying to help you,” he spat. “I was trying to keep those animals away from you. I was protecting you for my boss.”
“I don’t need your protection,” I hissed. “I don’t need anyone’s protection.”
“Not even your husband’s?” He laughed. “Poor bastard thinks you’ve left him.
” He leaned into me, his mouth beside my ear.
“But that’s a story for Boss to tell you, and boy, did we execute the plan to perfection.
” He broke the stare first as I tried to understand what he meant about Lorenzo thinking I’d left him.
“He’ll find me, you know.” I sounded so damn certain, but I was anything but.
“Sure he will.” He scoffed. “But until that doesn’t happen, eat something,” he said, picking up the spoon that was decorated by lint and whatever else lived in the carpet.
“No.”
“Suit yourself.” He turned his back to me before pausing for a second. “He won’t come, Anastacia. Remember, you were nothing but a pawn in his game. Boss had us save you. You should be thankful.”
And with that he was gone, leaving the stale food out of reach as his words played on repeat like a broken record.
He won’t come, Anastacia.
How he said my name was so familiar. Almost as if I’d heard it a thousand times. I racked my brain over and over until it dawned on me…
He worked for my father.