5. Nora #2
We rounded the corner so fast Valentina slammed briefly into the wall before recovering. I grabbed her hand harder and dragged her toward the nearest staircase I remembered from training.
“Main floor,” I hissed breathlessly. “Nearest exit.”
She nodded frantically.
Chaos got louder the lower we went. Not screaming exactly. Worse. Panicked noise. Running footsteps. Men shouting over each other. Glass breaking somewhere below us.
By the time we hit the main floor, the mansion had transformed completely.
Women ran through the halls in heels and masks, crying and screaming, while armed men in black clothes and balaclavas stormed through the estate, grabbing whoever they could reach.
One girl slammed into me sobbing before another masked man caught her around the waist and dragged her backward hard enough that her scream cut off into choking panic.
Gunshots echoed somewhere distant, sharp enough that every muscle in my body locked instantly.
My entire body went ice cold.
“Door,” I gasped at Valentina after spotting the main entrance across the massive lobby.
We sprinted toward it together, weaving through screaming women and overturned furniture, while people shoved past each other blindly.
Somewhere behind us, glass shattered. Somebody cried hysterically near the staircase.
The elegant polished atmosphere from earlier was gone completely.
The mansion felt feral now. Dangerous in a way that stripped all the luxury right off the walls and exposed something rotten underneath it.
A masked man lunged suddenly from a side hallway.
I swerved instinctively, dragging Valentina with me hard enough that she stumbled sideways into my shoulder while the man’s fingers barely missed my arm. Another woman crashed onto the marble floor nearby sobbing while two men hauled her upright between them like luggage instead of a person.
Nobody looked human anymore. Just movement. Noise. Fear. We were halfway to the front doors when everything went wrong.
A masked man burst through the entrance ahead of us carrying a rifle. I jerked sideways automatically. Valentina’s hand ripped out of mine.
“No!” I screamed as I whirled around to grab for her.
She stumbled backward directly into another man coming from the side hallway. He caught her around the waist instantly while she twisted violently in his grip.
Valentina screamed.
I lunged for her without thinking, catching her forearm for half a second before another man slammed into me hard enough that I crashed sideways into a table.
“Nora!” she shrieked.
Pain exploded through my shoulder as I hit the floor. By the time I looked up again, they were dragging her backward toward a side exit near the service hall.
“Valentina!”
I shoved myself upright and ran after her.
One of the masked men turned toward me, but another woman slammed accidentally into his path first, giving me just enough room to keep moving.
Then I saw the van outside through the open service doors. My blood turned to ice.
Valetina fought viciously between the men dragging her, kicking and twisting hard enough that one of them cursed loudly. One of the men shoved her toward the open van doors.
I was already turned and trying to get back to her, pushing through scrambling women and dodging masked men. But, she saw what I was trying to do and suddenly her expression changed completely, the fear disappearing altogether.
“Leave me!” she screamed in Spanish. “Run! Now, Nora!”
I wasn’t listening to her warning, but I was far too late. I was several feet away when those van doors slammed shut between us and the vehicle peeled away immediately, tires throwing dust and gravel, while I stopped frozen a few feet away from the entrance staring after it.
Gone. Valentina was gone.
My chest seized so violently I almost couldn’t breathe around it.
“Nora! Duck!”
The scream snapped me back just in time. I dropped instinctively. A gunshot cracked through the air above me a half second later. Something warm sprayed across the side of my face.
I looked up sharply and saw a masked man collapse backward onto the gravel behind me with a bullet hole directly between his eyes. Viper stood twenty feet away near the service doors holding a gun steady in both hands. For one frozen second, we stared at each other.
Then another masked man appeared behind him. Stryker tackled the guy sideways hard enough that both of them disappeared into the wall.
“Run!” Blade shouted somewhere farther behind them.
And my body listened before my brain could. I bolted, but not toward them, straight through the nearest open door leading outside the estate grounds.
“Nora!” somebody shouted behind me. “To us! Run to us!”
Maybe all three of them. I didn’t stop long enough to tell. Branches tore at my bare legs as I sprinted into the woods surrounding the property, my feet slamming painfully against dirt and rock while adrenaline drowned out almost everything except the instinct to keep moving.
Behind me, shouting echoed briefly. Then more gunshots. Then nothing except my own ragged breathing. I ran harder.
The woods blurred around me beneath weak moonlight. Twigs snapped underfoot. Rocks sliced into my feet. My lungs burned viciously within minutes, but terror kept dragging me forward anyway.
Valentina was gone. The thought repeated endlessly inside my skull.
Gone.
Taken.
To be sold.
I nearly tripped over a fallen branch and caught myself against a tree hard enough to scrape my palms bloody. For one stupid second, I almost turned back.
Almost.
Then I remembered the van doors slamming shut. Remembered masked men dragging screaming women through hallways. Remembered guns. I ran again.
At some point, my full sprint became a jog because my body physically couldn’t maintain that pace anymore. Sweat soaked Stryker’s shirt against my skin despite the cold desert air outside Vegas. Every breath scraped painfully through my chest.
Still, I didn’t stop. I kept expecting headlights behind me. Hands grabbing me. Voices calling through the trees.
Nothing came.
The estate eventually disappeared entirely behind endless dark desert. Hours passed strangely after that.
The adrenaline faded slowly enough that exhaustion started replacing it piece by piece. My feet bled by the time I finally reached the outskirts of Vegas. Dirt coated my legs. My hair tangled wildly around my face.
People stared occasionally as I stumbled through side streets before dawn wearing nothing but a man’s oversized shirt and smeared makeup.
I barely noticed.
My brain kept replaying the same images over and over again. Valentina screaming. The van doors shutting. Viper shooting that man. Stryker yelling my name.
I should’ve stayed. The thought hit harder with every passing mile. I should’ve stayed and helped. But helped how? I didn’t have weapons. Didn’t have power. Didn’t even know who those men were or where they took her.
By the time I reached our apartment building, dawn had started bleeding weak gray across the sky. I stood outside the entrance shaking hard enough that my teeth hurt. I had nothing. No phone. No wallet. No shoes. No Valentina.
I climbed the stairs mechanically anyway. I had no keys either but we kept a spare in a faux plant by the door because Valentina always lost hers somehow.
My heart ached, but otherwise, I felt empty as I pushed the door open. Inside, the apartment looked exactly the same as we left it two days earlier. Unmade bunk beds. Cheap dishes drying beside the sink. One of Valentina’s earrings sitting forgotten beside the bathroom mirror.
Normal.
The sight of it nearly destroyed me.
I slid down the wall beside the front door and finally started crying hard enough that I couldn’t breathe through it. Not graceful crying. Not quiet tears. Ugly choking panic that ripped through my chest while the apartment stayed painfully silent around me.
I didn’t know what to do.
Call the police?
Tell them what?
That masked men at a billionaire sex party kidnapped my best friend and sold women to clients? Even if they believed me, who exactly would they arrest? Rich men with private estates and armed security. The kind of people cops probably worked for.
Hours passed without me noticing. At some point sunlight fully filled the apartment. At some point I showered because there was blood dried across my feet and dirt covering my legs. At some point I realized I was still wearing Stryker’s shirt and nearly threw up.
Because underneath the smoke and detergent smell, it still smelled like him. Like them. Like the last few hours before everything collapsed. I sat on the bathroom floor afterward wrapped in a towel staring at my shaking hands.
Valentina was alive. She had to be alive. More than anything she had to be okay. The alternative didn’t fit inside my brain without breaking something permanently.
I thought about the men again despite myself. About Blade telling me I didn’t have to do anything I didn’t want. About Viper shooting someone to save me. About Stryker trying to stop me from running.
Confusion tangled violently with grief until I couldn’t separate any of it anymore. Instead, it hollowed something out unexpectedly. I curled tighter against the bathroom wall and pressed my forehead against my knees.
But I wouldn’t realize until three months later that from those three men, I had gained a lifelong reminder of that one night.