Chapter 5:Un-broken and Un-bowe
1003 Words
A long sigh escaped my lips as the warm water poured over me, washing away the tension that had built up throughout the day. I could feel my muscles slowly relaxing, the cold weight of the world momentarily forgotten beneath the soothing stream. Yet, in the back of my mind, I couldn’t shake the memory of her—the girl who dared to defy me when everyone else bent to my will. She was different. Fierce. But how long could she hold onto that fire? How long until the weight of her situation crushed her resistance?
I chuckled to myself, stepping out of the shower and toweling off. The thought of her breaking was too tempting, a twisted satisfaction I knew I’d savor when the time came. But for now, I had other matters to handle.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand, its screen lighting up with a call I already knew I’d have to take. Rolling my eyes, I answered with a detached tone. "What now?"
"Come to the room where the girl is being held," a cold voice instructed on the other end.
I groaned, irritation crawling under my skin. "What's going on now?"
"She tried to escape... took down 50 of our men," the voice said, amusement tinged with disbelief.
I raised an eyebrow. "Fifty? Impressive. I'll be right there."
I hung up and slipped into my clothes, stepping out of my room with a calm that barely masked the fire simmering beneath the surface. The audacity of this girl. I was curious to see just how far she’d push her limits.
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I arrived at the guest room, and the sight that greeted me only fueled my intrigue. There she was, battered and defiant, but her eyes—those eyes—were sharper than I’d anticipated. They held a fire that shouldn’t have been there. "So, you've got guts, huh?" I murmured, stepping closer.
Her voice, ragged but full of fury, cut through the air. "LET ME GO!"
I smirked, reaching out to grab a fistful of her hair, pulling her head back to expose her vulnerable throat. "Let you go? What makes you think I’d do that?"
Her chest heaved as she struggled against my grip, her hands reaching up to pry at mine. "I know you're not involved in this, but..." I leaned in close, my voice turning menacing. "I want your father."
The sharp intake of her breath told me everything I needed to know. She knew exactly what I was implying.
"You're insane," she spat, fighting against the restraints, her eyes burning with hatred.
I ignored her feeble resistance, enjoying the power I held over her. "Your father," I began, my tone laced with malice, "once served in this house. But he’s no loyal servant. He betrayed us. And now, it’s his turn to face the consequences."
Her defiance only fueled my desire to break her. "What story, you asshole?" she snarled, struggling once again.
I chuckled darkly. "Your father was a traitor. He was the one who sold us out, the one who helped frame my parents. He’s the reason they died. He was the one who gave them up, the one who brought down our entire empire."
She froze, disbelief flickering across her face. "What did my father do?" she whispered, her voice suddenly small, vulnerable.
I leaned in, my gaze cold and piercing. "He betrayed us. He orchestrated everything—the false evidence, the setup that led to my parents' deaths. And now... now, it’s his time to pay."
Her eyes narrowed, suspicion creeping into her expression. "You’re lying."
I wasn’t surprised by her doubt. It was natural to want to protect the ones we loved, to cling to the illusion that the people we trusted were always worthy of that trust. I gestured to Steve, who handed me a manila file. I tossed it onto her lap, the weight of the documents like a physical blow.
"Read it for yourself," I said, my voice laced with cold finality. "But don’t think you’re leaving here without knowing the truth."
Her hands trembled as she picked up the file, her face pale as she began scanning the pages. The silence was suffocating as I watched her process the information.
Shock. Horror. Realization. It all played across her face as she read, her world shattering with each word.
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Time Skip:
"This can’t be… Dad can’t do this," she whispered, her voice breaking, her disbelief palpable.
I gave a hollow laugh. "That’s the reality of it. Your father is responsible for everything."
She clasped her hands together, pleading, desperation seeping into her voice. "I know what happened to you was wrong, and you deserve justice. But please, let me go. I’ll help you. I’ll do anything."
I scoffed, stepping back. "Help me? You think this is some game? Your father made his choices, and now he will pay the price. As for you… I’ll deal with you later."
She pleaded again, her voice growing frantic. "You don’t understand. My brother needs me. He can’t survive without me."
I leaned forward, my grip tightening around her throat as I pulled her close. "In your dreams," I whispered, my voice like ice. I released her, and she collapsed onto the bed, gasping for air.
Steve and I turned, exiting the room without another word.
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In the hallway, Steve broke the silence. "What’s our next move?"
I didn’t answer immediately, my mind racing with plans and contingencies. "Keep her alive for now... but we need leverage. Once her father gets the message, he’ll make his move. And when he does, we’ll be ready."
We walked down the hallway, the weight of our actions settling around me like a thick fog. There would be no mercy. No escape.
As I reached for my phone, it buzzed again, the caller ID flashing with an unfamiliar number. A smile tugged at my lips. "Interesting," I muttered, already anticipating what this new conversation might bring.
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To be continued...
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- Writer
