CHAPTER EIGHTY ONE

VINCENZO

Rage nearly consumed me. Their games were becoming increasingly infuriating. I was sick and tired of their mindless attempts to break me. But I couldn't let their taunts get to me. I had to hold on, for Anya, for our unborn child.

After the last brutal session of torture, they brought me to a doctor. As my body gradually healed, a sliver of hope ignited within me. I saw an opportunity to escape, to fight back. In my weakened state, I attempted to run, to break free from this wretched place.

But it was futile; I hadn't regained my strength and they swiftly captured me again. Their retribution was swift and merciless, a stark reminder of my vulnerability.

I had lost track of time, days blending into each other in this grim captivity. My family, my loved ones, must believe I'm dead by now. The thought of Anya grieving, thinking I was gone forever, was more painful than any physical torture they could inflict.

Now, I found mys