190JOANA’S POVThat night—if it was even night, I couldn’t tell—the pain started to settle into my bones. Sleep teased me at the edge of exhaustion, but I didn’t dare drift fully. I needed to be alert for the next move.At some point, I closed my eyes. Just for a second.That’s when I felt it.Not a noise. Not a voice.A vibration.The faintest buzz from the watch.My breath caught. That could only mean one thing.Someone had pinged the signal.Someone was coming.I didn’t move. I didn’t blink. But in my heart, I whispered Jake’s name. That little boy had saved me without even knowing it. His innocent gift might just be the key to my escape.Now, all I had to do was survive a little longer.Let Louisa think she had the upper hand.Let her believe I was broken.Because soon enough, I was going to tear her empire apart.One brick at a time.—The hours ticked by slowly, and I kept my head low, pretending to be weakened beyond help. But inside, I was calculating. Every glance, every foo
189JOANA’S POVInternally, I hoped Clinton and Caleb were already coming to my rescue. My heart leapt at every creak of a door, every approaching footstep. But when the men came back inside with their faces wearing smug, victorious grins, my hope plummeted.The one I had bitten—hard enough to draw blood—had a plaster clumsily wrapped around the side of his hand. He glared at me with feral rage, his lips curling in a sneer as his steps drew closer. I kept my smile on, unwavering. That injury served him right."You think this is funny?" he snarled, lunging toward me.But one of the other men stepped in, pushing him back. "Later," he said. "You heard what the boss said. Not now.""But she—""I said later!" the taller one snapped.They shoved him back, and he cursed under his breath, storming off to a corner. I couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at my lips. It wasn’t just a victory. It was a seed—a small one, yes, but I had sown discord. Even now, in chains, I had power.I watched
188JOANA’S POVThe moment Louisa stepped out and the door slammed shut behind her, I exhaled slowly—but the breath barely left my lungs before pain struck again.A heavy blow crashed into my gut.I swallowed and bent forward automatically, but the cords on my arms prevented my moving, and my cry remained stuck in my throat. The agony was excruciating. I was just beginning to regain my balance when a different hand grabbed hold of my hair and pulled my head back with such force that I felt certain my neck would be broken.Fire went through my veins, every nerve in my body was on fire.I saw things blurred.This wasn’t just torture.This was a game to them.“This will be amusing.”I could feel the hair at the back of my neck stand.Then I saw his hand reach to my shoulder. I flinched. His fingers touched my arm, and when I made no movement, he became more courageous and approached me.I could smell him: it was something between cigarettes, sweat and cheap cologne. His hand moved lower.
187 JOANA’S POV The phrase “slightly tortured, kept on repeating in my mind. Repeatedly, as on a record, I could not turn it off. Alive and slightly tortured. The guards had made it sound like a casual errand. Like it was just something on their to-do list. Like I wasn’t a person with blood in her veins and a heart in her chest, but a problem to be bruised, not broken—at least not yet. I tried to push the thought away and keep my mind sharp. Think. Plan. Focus. But then—pain. A sudden, sharp burst of it at my thigh. I was rigid with fright. One of them had caught my leg--his hand was strong, fierce, impertinent--and pricked me in the flesh. A knife? A nail? I couldn’t see. All I knew was the fire that followed the pressure. It burnt into me like acid, and still, I would not scream. I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I could taste blood. No sound escaped my lips. No whimper. No flinch. If they wanted a reaction, they’d have to do better than that. I heard
186JOANA’S POVThe vehicle came to a stop.I could not clearly see out of the windows, but I did feel the change. The highway had turned itself into a gravel crunch. The air felt thicker, heavier with dust and something else—something rotten. We were no longer in the city.They’d taken me to the outskirts, just like I’d overheard.The doors opened with a clunk. I was pulled out of the car unutterably clumsily, my heels caught on the rough ground, my dress -my wedding dress, trailing in the mud, tearing in spots as I pitched forward.No one said a word. Just hands and rough shoves. I could hardly move my legs through all those layers of tulle, lace, and satin. I gritted my teeth, and would not give them the pleasure of hearing me grumble. All the snarls of my gown, all the scuffs of my flesh, all the ruined stitches–they would compensate for it.Especially the one who ordered this.They dragged me into a warehouse that looked like it hadn’t seen life in decades. Rusted steel beams. Br
185JOANA’S POVMy body trembled slightly, not from fear—no, I was long past the point where fear froze me—but from adrenaline. From fury. From the shock of the ambush. A wedding day kidnapping? That was a new level of sick, even for my enemies.The inside of the car was dark as ink, the air stale. Time passed in stutters, and I could only guess how long I’d been in there—minutes? Hours? The watch on my wrist ticked with subtle, soft vibrations that grounded me.Jake’s voice echoed in my mind. “So you don’t come late.”God, my son. He had no idea what was happening to me right now.I pulled at the dress around me, struggling to gain mobility. Wedding gowns weren’t made for escape. They were made for walking elegantly down aisles, not crouching in the corner of a blacked-out car with sweaty palms and a racing heart.Then the car stopped.The quiet that followed was oppressive.No sounds from outside. No breeze. Nothing but the faint whir of the air-conditioning system and my breath ca