CHAPTER 15

Vera and Lina barely stirred in the dim corner of the cold room, the smell of blood and sweat hanging thick in the air. Pain still throbbed through Vera’s body, every bruise a reminder of last night’s terror, yet exhaustion weighed heavier than agony. Lina’s shallow breaths were the only sound, until a sudden splash of scalding water slammed into their faces.

“Wake up,” a voice barked. Vera hissed, flinching, water dripping from her hair. “Not cold. Hot. You’ll feel every second.”

Vera’s eyes shot open. Lina shrieked, clutching her side, trembling. Vera yanked herself upright, muscles stiff, but her mind, razor-sharp, clicked into focus. 

They weren’t just torturing them—they were testing, provoking.

“Move,” one captor growled, shoving Lina roughly. “No more hiding. No more whispers.”

Vera lifted her chin, her voice low but steady, “I know you think this breaks us. You’re wrong.”

The men froze. One of them, a younger thug, spat, “What the hell did she just say?”

“You heard me,” Vera said, ignoring the pain slicing through her ribs. “You don’t understand the mistake you’ve made. You’ve picked up a live grenade.”

The room went quiet, except for Lina’s shaky breaths. One captor laughed nervously, stepping closer. “Live grenade? Girl, you’ve been beaten half to death. Don’t talk like you’re—”

Vera tilted her head, a faint, terrifying smile playing on her lips. Her voice dropped to a whisper, measured, deadly. “Conosco i segreti di chi credevate intoccabile. E so dove si nasconde il veleno che pensavate sepolto per sempre.”

The words hit the room like a shockwave. “I know the secrets of the untouchable. And I know where the poison you thought buried forever hides.”

The men froze. The younger one’s hand shook. The scarred leader’s jaw tightened. Whispering erupted—half panic, half disbelief.

“How… how does she know that?” one stammered.

Vera’s eyes scanned them slowly, deliberately. “You don’t understand. Every plan you’ve hidden, every lie you’ve buried, every corner of this city you think is safe—I see it. I remember it. And now, you’re in my view.”

The leader slammed his fist against the table. “You’ve got guts, but don’t mistake it for strength!”

Vera leaned slightly forward, calm, venomous. “Strength? I haven’t even started.”

One captor muttered, “Boss… maybe we should call—”

The leader slapped him sharply. “No. Not yet. We figure this out.

Lina whimpered, voice faint, “Vera… maybe we should—”

Vera pressed a finger to her lips. Shh. She glanced at Lina, reassuring her without words. “Let them stew. Let them feel it slowly.”

The scarred leader’s eyes flicked between the two women. Fear had crept in, subtle but undeniable. They had underestimated her from the moment she walked through that door, and now the realization burned them from inside out.

“You know things you shouldn’t,” one muttered, panic rising. “Things… impossible.”

Vera nodded, slow, deliberate. “Impossible is just what you refuse to consider. And now you’ll pay attention. Because the moment you stop watching, the moment you underestimate me—you’ll regret it.”

Sweat dripped, breaths quickened. Every man in the room felt it: this wasn’t a victim. 

This was a storm. A grenade. Ticking. 

Waiting.

Vera’s gaze lingered on the scarred leader. “You see? Panic suits you. It’s honest. Unlike your plans… which I already know.”

The leader exhaled, jaw tight, swallowing hard. “I don’t like this,” he admitted, voice low.

Vera’s lips curved. “You shouldn’t.”

Another man muttered, “We should call higher. Tell him she’s—”

The leader slammed his fist against the table. “No. Not yet. We figure this out first. But…” He paused, staring at Vera. “…we don’t touch her until we know exactly what we’re dealing with.”

Vera leaned forward slightly, voice calm, cold. “Good. Because every second you waste doubting, every second you whisper behind each other’s backs, you’re losing control. And that’s something I never lose.”

A bead of sweat slid down the scarred leader’s temple. His hands, once steady, now twitched involuntarily. Every instinct screamed at him: she shouldn’t know this. She shouldn’t be capable of this. She shouldn’t exist like this.

The tension in the room was suffocating. Every thug was acutely aware that one wrong move, one word spoken too loudly, could detonate the storm they had trapped in the corner. Even Lina, huddled against the wall, felt the room’s weight press down on her chest. This wasn’t just a fight for survival—it was a psychological battlefield.

Vera’s eyes, sharp and unyielding, caught the scarred leader’s gaze again. “You don’t even realize how close you are to losing control. Every second you hesitate, every whispered doubt—you’re falling further behind. And I…” Her voice dropped, a chilling whisper, “I never fall behind.”

The scarred leader finally sat back, breathing slowly, knuckles white against the table. “I don’t like this,” he muttered again.

Vera’s eyes glimmered with cold amusement. “You shouldn’t,” she said softly. “Because you don’t know half of it.”

Lina clutched Vera’s arm, trembling, while Vera’s mind raced, calculating the next move. Outside, somewhere far away, a subtle ripple had begun.

But here, in this room, the captors were learning a terrifying truth: they hadn’t captured prey. They’d unleashed a live grenade.