When Levi ca to, the acrid stench of ammonia clung to his nostrils as he stirred from unconsciousness. His mouth was dry, his tongue thick, and each breath scraped his throat like sandpaper. His limbs felt like lead, deadweight shackled to a body that barely responded. His vision swam with disjointed images—Ken Stuart, blurred faces, a car door slamming, and finally, Anya’s face: a halo of dark hair, crimson lips curled into a triumphant smile.
As if from a distance he heard voices.
"Why is he awake? Isn’t he supposed to be out for a whole hour at least?"
"I sprayed it directly in his face, I don’t know what happened but we have to hurry and get this done."
"Welco back to the land of the living, darling," ca her voice, soft and mocking, as if she were welcoming him to so twisted dreamscape.
Levi’s eyelids lifted slowly, every blink a fight. A dingy yellow light flickered overhead, its hum loud in the silence. The room swam into view—a motel room, gri embedded in the peeling wallpaper, the carpet blotched with years of spills, and the air thick with stale cigarette smoke and sothing more pungent, sothing chemical.
He was sprawled awkwardly on a sagging bed, his blazer missing, shirt partially unbuttoned, belt loosened. A slow, crawling sense of dread began to bloom in his gut.
"Where... am I?" he rasped, but the words ca out slurred, half-choked. "What the f**k have you done to ?"
Anya leaned in, her silhouette haloed by the weak light, the scent of her perfu nauseatingly sweet. "Sowhere private," she whispered, her fingers brushing his jaw with calculated intimacy. "Just you and ... and it’s not like we’ve never been alone together."
He tried to sit up, but the room tilted violently. His limbs refused to cooperate—numb, sluggish, as if underwater. His mind scread at him to move, but the connection between thought and action was frayed, delayed. Panic flared.
"Relax," she cooed, straddling him, the mattress creaking beneath her weight. "This will be over soon and I promise it won’t hurt."
From the corner of his eye, Levi caught movent—a dark figure shifting near the wall-mounted TV. A man, thin and wiry, lood in the shadows. The glint of a cara lens caught the flickering light as he adjusted it on a tripod. Levi blinked rapidly, trying to focus.
"Stop wasting ti and take off the rest of his clothes so we can get this shot and be over with," the man said, voice gravelly and impatient.
Sothing inside Levi snapped.
He might have been drugged. He might even be weak. But there was one thing he was not, helpless.
Summoning every last shred of energy, Levi surged upward with a guttural yell, catching Anya off balance. She let out a startled cry as she toppled sideways, hitting the floor hard.
"Stop him!" she shrieked, scrambling to her feet.
The caraman lunged, but Levi’s hand closed around the ceramic base of the bedside lamp. He wrenched it free and swung blindly. The lamp connected with a sickening crunch against the man’s temple. The photographer staggered, dropping the cara, and collapsed beside the bed, his head bleeding profusely onto the threadbare carpet.
Chest heaving, Levi dropped the shattered lamp and stumbled to his feet. The floor pitched beneath him, and the walls pulsed like a heartbeat, but he focused on one thing: the door.
He staggered toward it, but Anya was there again, grabbing at his arm, her nails digging into his skin. "You idiot! You will ruin everything!"
"Let go of ," Levi snarled, his voice raw with fury and the afterburn of chemicals she had sprayed in his face.
She tried to block his path, eyes wide with panic and fear now that her accomplice lay groaning behind her. But Levi wasn’t playing her ga anymore. He shoved her aside with enough force to send her sprawling onto the motel room table, scattering a purse, a bottle of pills, and a phone that lit up with a flash of Brandon’s na.
Levi paused.
Brandon.
Pieces slamd together in his mind with cold, horrifying clarity. This was not just so wild stunt. It was deliberate. Coordinated. And it had a purpose—destroy him. Probably to have Lyse all to himself.
"Of course," Levi muttered bitterly. "He sent you."
Anya glared up at him, rage and humiliation twisting her face. "You were supposed to be mine! It could have all been so simple."
A sharp pain lanced through Levi’s skull, but he forced his body forward, yanking the door open. The dim hallway stretched out before him, empty, silent, as if holding its breath.
He stumbled down the corridor, hand dragging along the stained wallpaper for balance. His vision doubled and the walls pressed in, but adrenaline carried him down the stairwell two flights at a ti. His mind scread for speed—if Anya called for help, if Brandon sent soone else, he would not get another chance.
The motel lobby was bathed in flickering neon from the buzzing sign outside. A teenage clerk behind the counter glanced up from his phone, eyes widening at the sight of Levi—shirt disheveled, bruised, blood on his sleeve.
"Hey, you okay?" the kid asked, half-rising.
Levi didn’t stop to answer. He burst through the double doors, the icy night air hitting him like a slap. The cold bit at his damp skin, clarity returning in fragnted bursts. The world outside was quiet, but not safe. He didn’t know where he was—so forgotten part of the city with boarded-up storefronts and rusting signs—but the important part was: he was out.
His chest heaved as he stumbled down the sidewalk, the cracked pavent blurring underfoot.
Sowhere nearby, a train roared past, the distant whistle echoing in the night. His head pounded. His stomach twisted.
He ducked into a narrow alley and leaned against a wall, sucking in breaths, every rib protesting. His phone—gone. His wallet—gone. He had no ID, no money, no way to call for help. But he was free.
The sharp buzz of tires over pavent made him jerk upright. A black SUV rolled slowly past the alley entrance, its headlights sweeping over the brick walls like searchlights. Levi’s heart leapt into his throat. He pressed himself into the shadows, barely breathing. The car didn’t stop. It kept moving.
When the coast was clear, he staggered out and turned down a side street, his eyes darting, his thoughts racing. He could not go ho. Not yet. If this was Brandon’s doing, then who knew how far it went? His apartnt, his office—none of it was safe.
Levi wondered briefly if his driver has also been part of the plan to have him kidnapped. In the distance he saw a phone kiosk and tried to quickly walk to it.
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