As soon as the car stopped beside one of the nurous parked cars in the compound, Eira opened the car door and got out. She walked with quick strides toward the entrance, where Han stood waiting for her.
"Miss Ephyra, please follow . They have been taken into the dungeon," Han said in his usual emotionless voice, gesturing toward the side of the mansion where an inauspicious opening led to an iron door further ahead.
So there was another way into the dungeon aside from inside the mansion. It made sense.
The iron door was barely visible amidst the ivy growing along the stone walls. How it thrived in such a place, Eira didn’t understand, so she moved her gaze away and followed Han.
The heavy door creaked open as Han led the way, revealing a dimly lit staircase spiraling downward into the earth. The air grew colder with each step, and the faint scent of damp stone and iron wafted up from below.
Eira followed silently, her expression unreadable. Her thoughts raced, dissecting every possible scenario awaiting her at the end of this descent. Han, as always, betrayed no emotion or hint of what lay ahead, his steps quiet.
When they reached the bottom, the space opened up into a vast underground chamber illuminated by harsh fluorescent lights. The room was divided into multiple cells, each enclosed by heavy iron bars. The faint sound of chains rattling echoed faintly through the still air.
Eira’s brows furrowed as she looked around. Was this a different section of the dungeon? This wasn’t the stone-walled, damp earthen space she knew.
"This is the interrogation space," Han stated, noticing Eira’s confusion.
"Oh, so there is a separate space for holding people and interrogating them?" Eira asked, raising an eyebrow as she folded her arms. The faint amusent in her tone didn’t escape Han, though he remained stoic.
"Yes, Miss Ephyra. The main dungeon is for containnt, but this area is designed for... extracting information or ensuring cooperation," he replied, his voice devoid of inflection as always.
Eira’s gaze swept over the sterile surroundings. The fluorescent lighting cast stark shadows across the tallic walls, giving the space an almost surgical quality. It was dreary despite the blinding lights.
"Efficient," she muttered, echoing her thoughts aloud.
Han inclined his head slightly. "Master Aelion prefers precision in such matters."
Eira’s lips twitched into a faint smile. Of course, he does. When does he not?
Her attention was drawn to the three figures standing outside one of the interrogation rooms. Eira’s gaze imdiately went to Jania even before Jania saw her and moved toward her with a wide smile on her lips.
"Ephyra, thank the lords you’re here," Jania said before glaring at the two n casually lounging against the opposite wall—Juan and Alessandro. Both n straightened as Eira approached, their expressions shifting with curiosity and appraisal.
Juan’s grin widened as his piercing green eyes settled on her. "Well, well. So this is the infamous Ephyra."
Alessandro tilted his head, his gaze sharp but less overtly playful. "You’re not what I expected."
Eira raised an eyebrow, unfazed by their scrutiny. "And who exactly are you to have expectations?"
Juan let out a low whistle, clearly amused. "She’s got bite. I like her already."
Jania shot him a warning glare. "Keep your comnts to yourself, Juan. She’s not here to entertain you." She turned back to Ephyra and gestured to Alessandro. "This is Alessandro Moretti, a forr rcenary and the acting leader of a gang." Then she pointed to Juan. "And this is Juan Herrera, nephew of Matteo Herrera. I’m not sure if you know the Herreras, but—"
"I know them. Aren’t their family the owners of one of the largest drug cartels in Colombia?"
"Exactly. Juan here is a constant thorn in my side and a professional nuisance," Jania cut in, stepping closer to Eira. "Ignore him. He thrives on irritating people."
"Ah, Jania, you wound ," Juan said, feigning hurt as he turned to Alessandro. "Back up here, Andro."
Alessandro shrugged, crossing his arms. "She’s not wrong."
"So helpful, Andro," Juan muttered, turning his gaze back to Ephyra. "But yes, I am indeed the nephew of Matteo Herrera, and while my family dabbles in, let’s say, unconventional business ventures, I’m simply here to assist."
Eira’s eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms. "Assist with what, exactly? I doubt soone of your... pedigree cos all this way without ulterior motives."
Juan chuckled, clearly impressed by her sharpness. "You’re quick. I like that. I’m here to oversee the delivery of the captives and to ensure everything goes smoothly. Purely a professional courtesy, of course."
Eira turned her attention to Alessandro, her gaze steady. "And him?"
Alessandro smirked, leaning casually against the wall. "No excuse needed. I’m here to collect a favor from little Han, but while I wait, I figured I’d observe. And maybe," he added, his tone dropping slightly, "offer so advice if things get ssy."
Eira’s eyes flicked to Han, who stood stoically at her side. "A favor?"
Her gaze shifted between the two n before turning to Jania. "Are they supposed to be useful, or are they just here to provide comntary?"
Jania let out a rare chuckle. "A bit of both, unfortunately. They brought the captives, but now they’re just lingering."
Eira glanced at the door behind them, her deanor turning serious. "And the captives? Are they ready?"
Jania nodded. "Yes. Three of them. Each connected to Marriana in so way. We’ve identified their roles, but we need the truth straight from them."
"Good," Eira said, her tone cold. "Let’s not waste any more ti."
She moved past Juan and Alessandro without a second glance, her focus solely on the room ahead. Han followed closely, his usual silent presence a contrast to the banter she’d just endured.
As Eira reached the interrogation room, she stopped and glanced back at Jania. "Who goes first?"
Jania hesitated for a mont before answering. "The ex-roommate. She might be the easiest to crack."
Eira’s eyes hardened. "From the simplest to the hardest."
When Eira entered the room, the air seed to shift. Three captives were seated in chairs, each bound and gagged. Their eyes flickered with a mix of fear and defiance as they looked up at her.
Eira’s gaze swept over them, assessing. She turned to Han, who had silently followed her in. "Remove their gags. I want to hear what they have to say."
Han nodded, stepping forward to comply. The captives imdiately began speaking over one another, their voices frantic and overlapping.
"Quiet," Eira commanded, her voice cutting through the noise like a blade. The room fell silent almost instantly, the captives shrinking under her icy stare.
She walked slowly around the room, her presence commanding. "You’ve been brought here because you hold information I need. I suggest you cooperate. It’ll make things much easier for you."
The older woman’s voice trembled as she spoke first. "Please... I don’t know anything. I was just—"
Eira cut her off with a sharp look. "I’ll decide what you do and don’t know."
Her attention shifted to the wiry man with the tattoo. "You look like soone who’s been in situations like this before. Tell , how much pain are you willing to endure before you break?"
The man clenched his jaw, refusing to answer. Eira smiled faintly, the expression devoid of warmth.
"I admire your determination," she said coolly. "But let’s see how long it lasts when it’s your turn."
She moved to stand in front of the middle-aged woman in the center. Her frazzled appearance was even more pronounced under the harsh lighting. She avoided Eira’s gaze, her fear palpable.
"What is your na?"
The woman hesitated, her lips trembling as she tried to find her voice. "M-Miranda," she stamred, her eyes darting around the room, searching for an escape that didn’t exist.
"Miranda," Eira repeated, her tone asured but unyielding. "You’re going to start talking, and you’re going to be very clear about your connection to Marriana. Leave nothing out."
Miranda swallowed hard, her hands trembling against the binds on her wrists. "I d-don’t know why you took ... but I-I wasn’t close to Marianna, and I... doubt I can be—"
"You were close enough to have the information I need. Now, when did Marianna get pregnant, and who was the father?"
Miranda shook her head. "I-I don’t—"
Eira grabbed her hair and tightened her grip, her voice cold and steady. "Let make this clear, Miranda. Every lie you tell, every ti you stall, will make this worse for you. Now answer the question."
Miranda whimpered, tears spilling from her eyes as she stamred, "It was 19 years ago, in the third month of the year. S-she told she was pregnant the day she ca back from the hospital. She also said that the father was her current boyfriend, who was a gang mber, and she didn’t know what to do as she wasn’t sure if she should inform him."
She paused, wincing as Eira tightened her grip.
"I asked her why she wasn’t sure, and she told that even if she wanted to keep the baby, she didn’t want her first child to have a gangster as a father. I advised her to tell him if she was planning to keep the baby because she couldn’t take care of it by herself. Marianna only humd in response.
"After that, she always ca back to the apartnt late, and most of the ti, I’d see her smiling to herself, rubbing her stomach happily, or pacing frequently, mulling over things and speaking in hushed tones on the phone. I always asked her if she’d told the father of the baby that she was expecting his child, but she would only hum or shrug in response.
"I think it was a month later when she barged into the apartnt, crying heavily. I asked her what happened, and she told that she’d gone to the baby’s father to inform him, but the other gang mbers told her he was dead. He died in a gang war the night before."
"That day, she cried for almost an hour before going to bed. However, the next day, she went out and ca back with a lot of luxury bags. She was nothing like soone who had just lost the father of her child. I asked her where she got everything from, and she told it was from the new guy she was going out with. She said he was very rich and treated her very well, and it was such a pity he had a girlfriend."
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