The Revenge plan

"You look like hell, Mr. Castillo."

Adrian’s voice dripped with mockery as he strolled into the dimly lit visitation room. He adjusted the cuffs of his designer suit, the sharp contrast against the cold, grimy walls of the prison making his presence feel even more suffocating. He took his time, dragging out each step before finally sitting across from Jordan Castillo.

Jordan exhaled heavily, his weary eyes locking onto Adrian with a mixture of disgust and disappointment. This boy... This traitor...

"What the hell do you want?" Jordan’s voice was hoarse, exhaustion clinging to every syllable.

Adrian smirked, leaning forward with his elbows on the table, his confidence reeking of arrogance. "I just came to check on you. See how you’re holding up in this lovely little home of yours." His tone was laced with amusement.

Jordan clenched his fists. "You put me here."

"I did." Adrian’s smirk widened. "And I did it well."

Jordan's breathing became heavier, but he refused to let Adrian see how much this was affecting him.

"You were like a son to me..." Jordan's voice trembled slightly, not with fear, but with pain. "I took you in, treated you like family. I’ve always wondered what Nirvana saw in you, and now, I see nothing but filth."

Adrian chuckled darkly. "Oh, Mr. Castillo, you still don't get it, do you?" He leaned in, lowering his voice to a whisper, his words slicing like a blade. "I never wanted her love. I wanted her destruction. And you? You were just in my way."

Jordan’s jaw tightened.

"You think you've won?" he rasped.

Adrian tilted his head. "I know I’ve won." His voice was cold, calculated. "I sold your precious daughter to the biggest and cruelest bastard in the country. She can never be free again. She belongs to him now."

Jordan’s entire body went rigid. His heart pounded violently against his chest.

"You... what?" His voice cracked, horror seeping into his tone.

"You heard me." Adrian’s smirk never wavered. "She’s his property now. He owns her. Mind, body, soul. And there’s not a damn thing you can do about it."

Jordan clutched at his chest, a sharp pain spreading like wildfire. His breaths turned shallow, his vision swimming. The walls of the visitation room seemed to close in on him.

"You…" His voice faltered as his fingers dug into the table. His face contorted in pain.

Adrian sat back, watching with twisted satisfaction. "What’s wrong, Mr. Castillo? Can’t handle the truth?"

Jordan gasped, his grip on his chest tightening. The guards noticed something was wrong, rushing toward him, but Adrian simply stood, buttoning his jacket with ease.

"Try not to die too soon, Mr. Castillo," he said, turning toward the exit. "I want you to live long enough to know that your daughter will never escape the hell I threw her into."

As Adrian walked out, the sound of Jordan struggling to breathe filled the room, the guards shouting for medical help.

And then…everything went black.

It had been almost a week since Rayne’s men brought her back after she last visited her father in prison. A week of being trapped in this sterile, suffocating hospital room. A week since they showed up and beat Zayd to a pulp, leaving him barely breathing.

She hated Rayne.

She hated this place.

She hated that she was fine now, yet they refused to discharge her because he said she wasn’t allowed to leave until he returned.

Pacing near the window, she clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. Damn him. Damn this whole situation.

The door creaked open. One of Rayne’s men stepped inside…tall, broad, and unreadable. He wasn’t Scarface. He wasn’t Gianni. Just another one of his countless henchmen.

"Miss Castillo."

Her spine stiffened. "What?"

"You should sit down."

Her stomach twisted. "I don’t have time for this. Just say it."

The man hesitated for a second before speaking.

"Your father had a heart attack."

The world tilted. Her ears rang.

Her lips parted, but no sound came out.

"He almost died," the man continued, his tone flat, as if he were reading off a script. "He’s stable now. Barely. He’s been asking for you."

Her knees nearly buckled.

"I need to see him."

The man exhaled. "That’s not possible."

"Excuse me?" Her voice rose, sharp with disbelief.

"Boss’s orders. You don’t go anywhere unless he says so."

She was already moving, pushing past him, but the door swung shut in front of her.

Two more men. One on each side of the door. Brick walls in suits.

She turned, seething. "Then call Rayne."

Silence.

Her pulse pounded. "Call your damn boss!"

One of them pulled out a phone. A few rings. Then…

"Miss Castillo."

Rayne’s voice dripped with amusement.

She gripped the phone tight. "Rayne…"

"You miss me already?"

She bit back a curse. "I need to see my father."

"Ah, I heard. Heart attack, right?" He clicked his tongue. "Tragic."

"Rayne, please…"

"You’re begging?" His tone was smooth, entertained. "I like it when you beg."

Her throat tightened. "I don’t have time for your games. Just let me see him."

Silence.

Then…

"No."

Her breath stuttered.

"Rayne, please…"

"Not happening."

"Damn you!" She clenched the phone. "I swear to God…"

"Swearing now? Tsk." His smirk was practically audible. "I’d reconsider your tone, Nirvana."

She squeezed her eyes shut. "He’s my father."

A long pause.

Then…

"Fine."

She nearly sobbed in relief.

"But on my terms."

Her stomach sank. "What do you want?"

"My men will take you there and bring you back."

Her grip on the phone tightened. "I don’t need a damn babysitter."

"That’s the deal, sweetheart. Take it or leave it."

She hated him. Hated that he controlled every part of her life. But she had no choice.

"Fine."

"Good girl."

The call ended.

She stood there, gripping the phone, her heart hammering against her ribs.

Outside the door, Rayne’s men were already waiting.

Waiting to take her to her father.

Waiting to drag her right back to him.

And the worst part? There was no way out.

"You look like hell papi," Nirvana choked out, her voice trembling as she sat beside the hospital bed.

Jordan Castillo turned his head weakly, his face pale, eyes sunken. "And you look like a ghost, mija."

Her chest tightened. Seeing him like this…so frail, so helpless…felt like a dagger twisting inside her. She grabbed his hand, squeezing gently, afraid he might break.

"I'm so sorry, Papi," she whispered, tears slipping down her cheeks. "This is my fault. I should have protected you. I should have…"

"No," he cut her off, his grip surprisingly firm despite his weakness. "This isn't your fault. It's his." His gaze darkened. "That bastard Adrian."

The name sent ice through her veins.

She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. Adrian did this. He sold her, condemned her to hell, and now, he had nearly killed her father too.

She wiped her tears roughly. Crying wouldn’t change anything.

Revenge would.

Jordan must have seen the shift in her eyes because his voice turned urgent. "Nirvana, listen to me. I don't want you getting involved in this filth. RAyNe…"

She stiffened at the name. "I know what I'm doing, Papi."

His fingers curled weakly around hers. "You don’t. You think you do, but you don't. Men like him don’t change, mija. You can’t win against him."

Her lips parted, but before she could respond, a voice interrupted from behind.

"It's time to go."

She turned to find RAyNe’s men standing in the doorway. Their expressions were unreadable, but their presence was a silent warning…her time here was up.

She leaned down, pressing a kiss to her father’s forehead. "Te lo juro, Papi." I swear to you.

Then she straightened, her face now calm, composed. When she walked out of that hospital room, she wasn’t the same Nirvana who had walked in.

She had made a decision.

She was going to destroy them all.

The moment she stepped into her hospital room, the suffocating realization hit her…she was still a prisoner.

Gianni was waiting, sitting on the couch with a bored expression. "You’re back."

She ignored him, walking toward the window, gripping the cold steel frame as if it could ground her. "When is he coming back?"

Gianni shrugged. "When he feels like it."

Her nails dug into her palm. "He told me I’d be allowed to leave when he returns. I need to…"

"You need to do nothing except what Boss tells you," Gianni interrupted, his voice carrying a warning.

Nirvana exhaled shakily, turning around with an expression of surrender. "I get it."

Gianni narrowed his eyes. "Do you?"

She nodded, forcing herself to look small, to look beaten. "I don't want to fight anymore."

Gianni studied her for a long moment, then smirked. "Smart girl."

She lowered her gaze, hiding the fire burning behind them.

Let them think they had won.

She would play this game. She would give RAyNe exactly what he wanted.

And when the time came, she would destroy him.