The mont Raymond saw the location pop up on his phone, his hand froze. For a second, he didn’t move. His eyes narrowed. His jaw locked. It wasn’t just so random spot—they had taken her there? There of all places?
His grip on the phone tightened, veins rising along his knuckles as he muttered, "Are they mad?"
It was an abandoned property on the outskirts—a long-forgotten lodge hidden deep within the old Mirabel woods. He hadn’t been there in years, not since he bought it under a dummy corporation, back when he still preferred to stay hidden from the world. It was far. Very far. A two-hour drive even with no traffic. And that fact alone made his blood boil.
They chose that place because they knew no one would reach her in ti.
His chest heaved. Anger wasn’t even the right word—it was beyond that. This was a kind of rage that twisted his insides. The thought of Valentina, terrified and alone in that place, surrounded by people who clearly didn’t care if she got out alive, pushed him past reason.
"She’s not going to survive this if I delay," he whispered to himself, barely audible, before tossing his phone into the passenger seat and stepping hard on the gas.
Tyres screeched. His black SUV roared to life and peeled off from the curb like a beast let loose. His mind wasn’t even on the road. All he saw was her face—the way she had looked at him the last ti they spoke, the way her eyes softened when she smiled. And now, soone thought they could lay a finger on her?
"I’ll bury them," he growled under his breath. "Every last one of them."
Inside the dim room, the sll was musty and thick with sweat and cigarette smoke. The walls were lined with peeling paint, and a single bulb flickered weakly above. Valentina sat on the cold floor, her hands tied behind her, her ankles bound.
One of the n leaned over, close enough that she could sll the sour alcohol on his breath. His teeth were yellow, and the smirk on his face made her skin crawl.
"You should behave yourself," he warned, waving a knife lazily in the air. "We don’t want to hurt you. But if you keep acting like a princess—like you’re better than us—we won’t be so nice."
Another one laughed from the corner. "She thinks Raymond is going to show up and save her," he mocked. "This isn’t a movie, sweetheart. No hero’s coming. This ti, you belong to us."
Valentina didn’t flinch. Even though her heart was pounding like a drum inside her chest, she kept her eyes sharp, scanning their faces.
"I don’t belong to anyone," she said, voice low but steady.
That only made them laugh louder. The third man stepped forward, crouching to her level. "Don’t try to act tough. You keep pretending like you’re calm, we’re going to make you understand—one after the other."
At that mont valentina stirred.
A soft groan escaped her lips as her head lolled to the side. The light above her flickered, stabbing through her half-open eyes. Her vision swam, shapes blurring and fading into one another. Her wrists ached, and the cold floor beneath her felt like ice.
Her lips were dry, her throat rough. She blinked slowly, trying to focus. Where... where am I?
Her heart began to thud weakly as flashes of mory returned in broken pieces—the van... the hand over her mouth... the sting in her neck... darkness.
Now, as she shifted slightly, a jolt of weakness surged through her body. Her limbs felt like sandbags. She tried lifting herself up, but her arms collapsed beneath her. She groaned again, her forehead resting against the cold floor.
"I... I don’t understand..." she whispered, her voice barely audible. "What did I do?"
She turned her head slowly, her gaze landing on the blurry figure of a man standing near the wall, arms folded. Another was fiddling with sothing—maybe a small cara or a phone. Her pulse quickened.
"Please," Valentina croaked, her voice trembling. "Please, just tell what I did. I didn’t hurt anyone. I don’t even know who you people are..."
Tears welled in her eyes—not from pain, but confusion. Panic. Her body was failing her. Whatever they injected her with still hadn’t worn off. Her fingers trembled as she tried once more to lift herself.
Her legs gave out again.
"You think she’s still faking it?" one of the n scoffed. "Look at her, she can’t even sit up properly."
"She’s not faking anything," another grunted. "Those drugs we used don’t wear off quick."
Valentina’s breath ca out in short, shallow pants as she tried to push herself to her knees. "Please... let go. Just let go..."
One of the n clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed. "We don’t have ti for this drama."
He glanced toward the one holding the cara. "Turn it on. Let’s get this thing over with. The faster we finish, the faster we disappear. Boss said no loose ends."
The cara guy nodded, adjusting the lens and pointing it toward Valentina’s crumpled form on the ground. The little red light blinked on.
Valentina’s eyes widened faintly as the red glow reached her blurred vision. She whimpered, dragging her legs back, trying to move, to hide, to crawl—but she couldn’t.
Her voice broke as she whispered, "Please... don’t do this..."
But they didn’t answer.
The man behind the cara simply said,
"Start it now."
At that mont the red light on the cara kept blinking, silent but loud in Valentina’s eyes.
Her heartbeat was wild now. A dull ringing in her ears made everything around her feel distant. But the voices, the movents, the intentions—they were slowly becoming clear.
That was when it hit her.
The way they positioned the cara. The way they cleared the area and prepared the stained mattress in the corner. The way they didn’t answer her questions. It all made sense now.
Her mouth opened in horror. "No," she said softly. "No... no, please..."
They didn’t look at her. One was adjusting the cara stand. Another folded his arms, watching. The third one stood by the door like a guard. The leader—the tallest of them—started pulling his shirt over his head.
That was when Valentina’s panic truly cracked open. Her voice shook, but she pushed it out anyway.
"Please... please don’t do this," she whimpered. "I don’t even know why I’m here. If... if I’ve done anything to offend you or anyone, I’m sorry. I swear I’m sorry. Just let go."
She tried to crawl back, her legs heavy, her arms barely responsive. She was still drugged, her body weak and trembling. But she fought to move, even if it ant dragging herself like a dying animal.
One of the n gave a short laugh, cruel and dry.
"I beg you," she continued, voice cracking, "you don’t have to do this. I’ll forget everything. I won’t talk. Just please... please let go."
Still, no one responded.
They just kept moving, chanically—like this was routine. Like she wasn’t even human.
The leader glanced around and said with authority, "I’ll go first."
No one challenged him. They didn’t dare. He was the one in charge here. That was obvious from the way they all stood still and stepped back.
"Give space," he added, cracking his neck. "Let enjoy this myself."
The others silently nodded and backed off.
Valentina’s hands shook harder. She struggled to turn her body, using her elbow to push against the ground.
"No—please," she cried out, desperate. "I’m begging you. Forgive . If I’ve done anything... anything at all... just let it go. Please... I’ll do anything..."
At that mont Valentina’s body trembled, but her thoughts cut through the haze like a burning blade.
This doesn’t make sense... none of this makes sense...
Her eyes darted around, searching—why ?
And then it ca. A bitter na in her mind, like poison sliding down her throat.
Maria, her heart sank with realization, but her jaw clenched in disbelief. It has to be her. It just has to be Maria.
The signs had been there. The cold smiles. The sudden friendliness. The strange ssage that lured her out in the first place. It all lined up like pieces of a cruel puzzle she hadn’t seen coming. She wanted to slap herself for trusting even a word from that snake.
She set up, the rage swelled quickly beneath her skin. It fought against the helplessness, fed on it. Her fingers dug into the floor beneath her as she glared at the blurry shadows before her.
That bitch set up. That fake smile. That voice. That phony concern. I walked right into her trap.
She wanted to scream. She wanted to rip her own hair out for being so blind. I was stupid. I should’ve known. How did I let myself fall for it? How?
And then, a darker thought ca. One that burned deeper than the rest.
She’s going to pay for this.
Her eyes narrowed, even through the tears that stained her cheeks. A new kind of fire rose inside her—one that defied the drugs, the weakness, the fear.
If I make it out of this... if I survive this... Maria, you’ll wish you never knew my na.
She didn’t care what it would take. Whether it was years or days. Whether it ant burning bridges, ruining lives, or turning into sothing she never imagined herself to be. She would get her revenge. With her own hands.
Even if she had to drag herself through hell to do it.
And then—her breath hitched.
The man who called himself the leader was now at the foot of the mattress, slowly removing his belt, his eyes locked on her like a predator.
Her stomach twisted, she turned her head away, biting her lower lip until she tasted blood.
But inside her head, one na echoed again and again, like a vow made in the pit of a storm:
Maria will pay.
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