Chapter8
1472 Words
CHAPTER 8
Cold. Damp. Dark.
The room reeked of mold and rusted metal. The walls, if they could be called that, were slabs of decaying concrete, stained with time and secrets. A dim bulb flickered above, swinging slightly as if mocking her helplessness. The only sound was the slow, rhythmic drip of water hitting the floor from a pipe above.
Belle stirred.
Her eyes fluttered open, blurry and unsteady. Panic surged in her chest as she tried to move, but her hands were bound tightly behind her back, and her mouth was sealed shut with duct tape. Her head throbbed. Her heart pounded so loudly she could hear it echoing in her ears.
What’s happening? Where am I?
She let out a muffled scream, writhing against the ropes biting into her wrists. The pain grounded her, bringing memories surging back.
The car. She’d entered her car after work. She had shut the door... then…
Her breath hitched. The hand. From behind. Something covered her mouth. She had struggled. Fought back. Scratched. Kicked. But her limbs had gotten heavy... her eyes had closed.
“Oh my God...” she thought as tears began to fill her eyes. “Did I just get kidnapped?”
Fear clawed at her throat.
Then she remembered – Emma. The call she'd gotten weeks ago. The warning that the people who murdered her parents might come after her too.
Her stomach twisted.
Could this be it?
Her heart beat faster. But why? Why would they want me dead? That's true, I still don't know why they killed my parents in the first place. I’ve been trying to find out for months... and now, maybe I’ll finally meet the ghost I’ve been hunting.
The thought gave her a small surge of strength. She shifted, managing to sit upright against the wall. Her gown was torn, her makeup smeared, her hair tangled. She looked nothing like the powerful CEO she had become. She was a prisoner now.
A metallic creak echoed in the silence; he door.
Someone walked in.
Tall, dressed in all black, face hidden behind a black ski mask. No words, no sound. Just... watching.
Belle’s breath caught. She stared back, eyes wide.
The figure stood still, observing her, their body language unreadable. Then slowly, without a word, they turned around, stepped back through the door, and shut it with a harsh slam.
Darkness again.
She was alone. But her mind wasn't. The gala, she remembered suddenly. The gunfire, the chaos, Adam... pulling out a gun like it was second nature.
Her blood ran cold.
What the f**k has Adam gotten me into?
* * * * *
Adam sat in the living room of the penthouse, staring out into the night. His tie was loosened, and his brow furrowed. He glanced at the clock on the wall. Midnight.
Belle still hadn’t come home. He wasn't supposed to be worried, but he was.
He pulled out his phone again. Another call – straight to voicemail. Text messages, no response.
It wasn’t like her.
His fingers clenched around the phone. Something was wrong.
“She probably just needed air,” he muttered to himself, but the words didn’t even convince him.
He tried calling Emma, no answer. He texted her:
“Where is Belle? Did she mention anything about going somewhere after work?”
No response.
The hours dragged, sleep never came. By morning, he was pacing the floor, jaw tight.
Rufus entered the penthouse just after 7 a.m., his expression serious.
“She’s still not back?” Rufus asked, though he already knew the answer.
Adam didn’t reply. Instead, he handed Rufus a list.
“Send the boys out. Search her last known locations. Office, café, anywhere she frequents. I want eyes everywhere.”
“Yes boss.”
But before Rufus could leave, Adam’s phone buzzed. A text.
He opened it, and froze.
His blood turned to ice.
It was a picture. Belle, bound, gagged, bruised. A gun pressed to the side of her head.
Beneath the image:
“Come get her yourself. If you send anyone else, we’ll deliver her head to your doorstep. Don’t test me. And I know you wouldn't dare to involve the police.”
Adam’s hand began to tremble.
Rufus saw the screen and cursed under his breath. “This is a setup, Adam. It’s a trap. If you walk in there, you’re not walking out.”
Adam didn’t move. His mind was racing.
“I know Xandros very well,” he said finally “That wasn’t an empty threat. If he says he’ll kill her, he means it.”
Rufus shook his head. “So what? You’re going to risk your life over this woman? Don’t forget that this is a contract marriage. And there was no clause that stated that you had to die for her.”
Adam’s jaw clenched. He turned toward Rufus, voice sharp.
“So I should just let them kill her? Are you forgetting that I put her in this mess she's in?”
“She’s just one of your many properties,” Rufus said bluntly. “You signed her like a deal, she’s not worth this risk.”
Adam stepped forward, fury burning in his eyes.
“Belle is my wife. Contract or not. And I will not let anyone lay a finger on even a strand of her hair.”
He pointed toward his study. “Get me my gun.”
* * * * *
Rachel walked confidently into James Bailison’s home office, the heels of her shoes tapping against the tile floor. James was ending a phone call, his tone serious.
“I’ll send the remaining payment now. Just don’t lose him. Bye.”
He looked up with a smirk. “Well, good morning.”
Rachel raised a brow and dropped onto the leather couch. “You seem chipper.”
“Oh, I am. You won’t believe what I just heard.”
“I’m listening.”
He laughed lightly, poured himself a drink. “Got a call from our intel.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “The private investigator?”
“Yep.”
She waved her hand lazily. “Please. I’ve heard all the stories about mystery men. Nothing about that man is going to surprise me.”
“Oh, I hope you’re right.” James took a long sip before speaking. “Because what I’m about to tell you? Will blow your mind.”
Rachel folded her arms. “Go on then.”
James leaned forward, lowering his voice like he was letting her in on a dark secret.
“Adam Hamilton... is a mafia member.”
Rachel, mid-sip, choked. She coughed, then stared at him wide-eyed.
“You’re joking.”
“Nope. Not just a member. He runs a mafia group. Owns it, commands it, operates through his hotels and international business fronts. I even got his alias.”
Rachel blinked. “Wait... what?!”
James nodded smugly. “The bastard married Belle not just for the shares, but because she gave him the perfect corporate cover. And we just handed it to him on a silver platter.”
Rachel shot up from her seat. “Holy s**t. If the board finds out…”
“We can bury them both,” James cut in. “Belle and Adam. Fraud, conspiracy, corruption, just think about it.”
Rachel’s lips curled into a grin. “This is the leverage we’ve been waiting for.”
“But don't tell anyone anything yet.”
“Why?”
“We need enough strong evidence not just talks. That's why we'll wait until our intel can get us evidence. Till then, zip up.”
Back at the hideout…
Belle stirred again. The door opened, this time slower.
Three men entered. One held a phone, another stood behind him, arms crossed, a gun slung loosely in his hand.
And then… a fourth man entered.
Tall, clean-shaven, cold eyes.
Xandros Roosevelt.
“Good morning, Mrs. Hamilton,” he said with a wicked grin. “So glad you could finally join us.”
Belle glared at him.
He crouched, studying her face like a hunter inspecting his prey.
“You must be wondering why you’re here. Why we went through so much trouble just to get you.”
She didn’t blink. She wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.
“It’s simple,” Xandros continued. “Your dear husband, Adam Hamilton, crossed the wrong people. And unfortunately for you, he married the one person we can use against him.”
He stood again, pacing slowly.
“I don’t care about the Bailison Group. I don’t care about your CEO title. I care about revenge. And Adam... well, he owes me blood.”
Belle’s heart pounded.
“Don’t worry,” Xandros smirked. “He’ll come for you. That’s what heroes do, right?”
- Writer
