A CLUE
1087 Words
ARABELLA
The room feels smaller today.
Or maybe it's just me.
I sit at the edge of the bed, my fingers curled into the T-shirt, staring at the door like it might open if I stare long enough.
It doesn't.
It never does—unless he wants it to.
Even thinking about him makes something unfamiliar settle in my chest.
I swing my legs off the bed and stand. My ankle still aches from the fall the day of my kidnapping—I had almost forgotten about it.
I test my weight carefully, then take a few steps.
One step.
Two.
Three.
But no matter what I do, I am still trapped.
I exhale slowly and look around again, forcing myself to pay attention this time.
The door. Solid. No handle on the inside that I can break.
The window. Too high. Iron bars.
The walls… plain. No cracks. No weak spots.
This isn't just a room.
It's a cage built by someone who knows exactly what they're doing.
Think, Arabella. Think.
I move toward the nightstand—empty.
The chair in the corner is not enough to break anything.
I run a hand through my hair, pacing now.
He untied me.
It means he's not worried about me escaping.
That realization hits harder than anything else.
I stop pacing.
That means I'm deeper in this than I thought.
The door opens.
I turn immediately.
Sofia.
She steps in quietly, carrying another tray.
"Lunch," she says.
I watch her, trying to understand why her face is always blank.
She sets the tray down and turns to leave.
"Wait."
She doesn't turn back.
I step closer, my voice softer.
"Please… just tell me something."
"What do you want to know?"
"Where am I?"
She shakes her head. "Doesn't matter."
"It matters to me. I deserve to know where I'm being held."
She turns. "Why don't you ask Max then?" For the first time, her voice isn't neutral.
I study her face. No anger. No sympathy either.
"I wouldn't ask you if he was willing to tell me anything."
"Then just be a good girl and cooperate with him."
"Cooperate? He doesn't tell me anything. How do I cooperate? What the hell does he plan to do with me?"
She looks at me for a few seconds.
"I have an idea how you can help and get your freedom back."
"How?" Finally, someone is telling me something.
"Tell him all he needs to know about your father… including his shady dealings."
"This is revenge, isn't it? He is using me to get to my father."
"Took you long enough." She opens the door and leaves without another word.
I get back to the bed.
He has completely lost his mind if he thinks I will betray my parents.
He can as well keep me here forever.
No—no, I don't mean that. I miss Liam.
He must be going crazy looking for me.
I stare at the plate of food.
This is worse than being locked up by my father.
Who am I kidding?
This psycho can end my life at any time.
---
...........................................................................
LIAM
"Say that again."
David leans back against the car, his arms crossed.
"The tire prints," Liam repeats, pacing. "They weren't from a normal car. Wide. Clean. Expensive."
"You're telling me you can identify a car from tire marks now?"
"I looked it up," Liam snaps. "It matches an Audi RS7."
"That's not small money."
"I know."
They stand in silence for a moment.
The garage smells like oil and metal. Familiar. Usually comforting.
But today it's not.
David rubs his face. "Alright… I asked around like you said."
Liam stops pacing. "And?"
"There are a few people in that area with cars like that. Businessmen. Some… shady individuals."
Liam's chest tightens.
"Names," he says.
David hesitates.
"That's the problem," he says finally. "These aren't people you just walk up to and question."
"I'm not planning to walk up and question them."
"What are you planning then?" David asks. "Liam, listen to yourself. This isn't your level."
Liam steps closer, his eyes red from lack of sleep.
"She called me. She was scared. She needed me."
"I get that…"
"No, you don't," Liam cuts in. "If you did, you wouldn't be telling me to back off."
David sighs.
"I'm not saying back off. I'm saying be careful. Be smart."
"Then help me out."
"Alright. Someone said he always sees a black car parked near the estate. I tried to trace the plate number."
Liam's heart pounds.
"And who owns the car?"
David lowers his voice.
"Maximillian Reyes."
Liam has never heard the name before, and he wouldn't have cared, but for Arabella's sake he chooses to be inquisitive.
"Who is he?"
"I asked around. He is a high-profile, reputable doctor at Sterling medical institute"
"What does he have to do with Arabella?" Liam asks, agitated.
"I didn't say he has anything to do with her, man."
"So what?"
"There are rumors that he is very shady—illegal operations. What if he took your girl to threaten her family?"
Liam goes silent for a minute. "How does he look? A picture."
David shows him a picture on his phone.
"But bro, we could be wrong. These are just rumors."
Liam shakes his head. "I'd rather be wrong than do nothing. Even if he didn't take her, he might know who did."
"What are you up to now?" David asks.
" Sterling Medical Institute."
"But bro, why don't you let her family find her? You can't tell how dangerous this might be."
Liam shoots him a glare.
David raises his hand. "I'm just concerned."
"I know what I am doing."
---
...........................................................................
MAXIMILLIAN
Maximillian listens to Jason talk as he gulps down his white wine.
"I know you mentioned Spain is off limits, but I am assuring you, Max, this will be worth it."
"Let's be honest—what's your main goal?" Maximillian asks, setting his glass down with a loud sound.
"It's okay, you don't trust me. But I assure you this will be mutually beneficial. You can come to Spain yourself if you have doubts."
Maximillian nods, bringing the glass back to his mouth.
"I will consider it."
"You should."
He sits up.
"There is something I want to talk to you about."
"What is it?"
"It's about Arabella Garcia."
"Victor Garcia's daughter?" Jason asks, knowing vaguely about Maximillian's revenge plans.
"Yes, that one." He empties his glass. "I need a favor."
- Writer
