Chapter 3

When I woke up again, my head was pounding.

The air reeked of mildew and rust. My hands were tied behind my back, the rope cutting into my wrists until they'd gone numb.

"Oh, she's up."

A gruff voice came from the corner.

I looked over. A burly man with a thick black beard was crouching a few feet away, sizing me up with cloudy eyes.

"Who are you? Why did you take me?"

Panic clawed at my chest. I couldn't tell if this was real or part of the fake death setup.

The man grinned, yellow teeth showing. "That's on you, sweetheart. We were after Emma Miller—the Miller family's precious daughter. Spent days tracking her down. And we end up with you. Useless."

My heart dropped. The panic got worse.

He stood, walked over, and crouched in front of me, grabbing my chin.

"But hey... a catch is a catch. Can't let it all go to waste."

"You're Daniel's woman. Sure, he married that bitch Emma, but he's not gonna just let you die, is he?"

He fished my phone out of my pocket, grabbed my finger to unlock it, and dialed Daniel.

The moment the call connected, my heart was practically in my throat.

Scared he'd come and get hurt. Scared he wouldn't even care.

"Daniel, right?" The man's voice was lazy. "I've got your woman. If you want her alive, bring Emma. Come alone. No games."

"If you're not here in half an hour, I'm dumping your girl in the red-light district."

"Daniel!" I lunged toward the phone, the rope biting into my skin. I didn't care. "Daniel! Help me!"

The man kicked me. I hit the ground with a muffled grunt.

Crack. Something in my ribs gave. I curled up, pain ripping through me.

"Shut it." He shot me a glare.

Then I heard it through the phone—Daniel's heavy, wet breathing. And Emma's moans.

My blood went cold.

I'd been taken. I was fighting for my life. And the man I'd loved for five years was in bed with someone else?

The line went quiet for a long moment. Then his voice came through, cruel and clean.

"...Do whatever you want with her."

"You want Emma in exchange for her? Don't you think that's a joke? Emma is my wife. How could she compare?"

A pause.

"She's nothing to me."

I lay frozen on the ground, tears spilling out of nowhere.

Daniel kept going on the other end.

"A mistress. That's all. Kill her. Let her go. Use her to threaten me—"

The kidnapper yanked the phone away, clearly thrown by how cold he was. He looked at me, confused.

"You really got nothing with him?"

"Nothing. Just let me go."

I bit down on my lip so hard it hurt. Kept myself from sobbing.

Five years. Five whole years.

He'd bought me the best jewelry in the world. He'd taken a bullet meant for me in a family hit. He'd held me in bed, whispered love into my skin.

And now?

He said I was nothing to him.

Just his mistress.

The kidnappers got restless.

"Fucking useless catch!"

"What now? We just wasted our time?"

"Hell no. I spent ten days staking this place out. This girl—no background, right? Pretty enough. Darknet's been asking for girls. Sell her. At least we get something back."

My eyes went wide. If I got sold to the darknet, I'd be better off dead.

I shoved the grief down. My brain went into overdrive.

Daniel was busy with Emma. I'd have to save myself.

My wrists were still tied behind me. Every move burned.

But my fingers found something—a shard of glass.

The bearded guy and some tall, skinny one were huddled together, not even looking at me.

A woman her boyfriend threw away like trash—to them, she was less than dirt.

I gripped the glass and started sawing at the rope.

Too fast. My wrists got sliced up. Blood mixed with sweat, dripping down.

Don't know how long it took. But the rope finally snapped.

I held my breath. Slowly pushed myself up.

The two kidnappers had their backs to me, muttering.

My phone was on the floor nearby. Screen still lit.

My eyes found the door—a rusty iron slab, half open. Through the gap, the sky was pitch black.

Run.

I grabbed the phone off the ground and bolted for the door before they could react.

A roar behind me.

"Shit! She's gone!"

Then a group of men in black showed up. They stopped the kidnappers from chasing me.

But I didn't look back. Just kept running.

The sky was dark. Woods everywhere. I had no idea where I was going—just dove into the thickest trees I could find.

Branches whipped across my face, my neck, my arms. Left stinging cuts everywhere.

I don't know how long I ran before I reached somewhere safe.

Then my phone buzzed.

The name on the screen—Daniel. Too familiar.

I didn't want to answer. But my thumb moved anyway.

"Sophia?" Daniel's voice came through, wrecked. Urgent. "Don't be scared, I've already sent—"

"Daniel."

I cut him off. My voice barely above a whisper.

"...What?"

The memories crashed over me.

Five years ago, he stepped off a plane in front of me, holding a bouquet of white roses, saying he'd protect me forever.

Four years ago, he took a bullet meant for me in a family hit. His lips pale, but he still smiled and said, "See? I really did protect you."

Two years ago, he knelt at my parents' grave, held my hand, and said, "I'm your family now. Forever."

All lies.

"Daniel. I hate you."

My voice was shaking.

"Sophia, listen to me—"

He must have felt it coming. Panic creeping into his voice.

"Sophia!"

I hung up.

Met up with the fake death team. Grabbed my things. Boarded the plane without looking back.

Daniel. After this. Nothing.