Chapter 1
828 Words
I woke up to a furious argument, and I was the subject. My head throbbed, heavy and disoriented. I looked around trying to make sense of my surroundings, and a jolt of panic shot through me.
Where am I?
What is this place?
How did I get here?
A flood of questions consumed my mind. Last night, I was safe in my own bed. Now, I was in a dark, abandoned warehouse, bound hand and foot. My wrists and ankles were raw and sore from the tight ropes, and the awkward position I was in offered no comfort.
The argument that had woken me up was still raging. I could hear at least six men debating what to do with me. My heart hammered against my ribs, but I forced myself to stay still and silent, pretending to be unconscious. They hadn't noticed I was awake, and I needed to keep it that way. I had to understand the situation before I could even think about an escape. It felt impossible, but I wasn't going down without a fight.
"We should just kill her, collect our money, and leave the country. That was the plan," one of the men insisted.
"Yeah, but how can we kill a beauty like her without having some fun first? No one will care anyway," another countered, and a jolt of pure terror went through me.
"I agree. Either way, the job's done. We get the money, and a little extra fun on the side with that fine body," a third voice added, dripping with a disgusting, lustful tone that made me want to gag.
My heart pounded, a frantic rhythm of fear. I knew no one was coming for me. I lived alone, and I had recently taken a leave of absence from work, so no one would even notice I was gone. I was my only hope. I had to assume I wouldn't get out alive, but I would make them pay for every inch of their victory.
Just then, a phone rang, stopping the argument cold.
"It's the boss," the first man said. All eyes turned to him.
"Tell him the job is done," the largest man, who hadn't spoken yet, commanded.
The first man hesitated. "Then what? You know how strict he is. He hates being lied to."
"We'll figure that out later. Just answer the damn call," the big man insisted.
The man put the call on speakerphone. "Hello," he said.
"What's the status? Is the job done?" The voice on the other end was cold and familiar. My blood ran cold as I recognized it—the voice of my fiancé, Jay Williams. My one true love. Or so I thought.
"Y-yes, Mr. Williams. The job is done." The man's confirmation shattered any hope that I was mistaken.
My heart ached with a pain so deep it was physical. Why? Why would he do this? How was this possible?
"Why did you hesitate? Are you lying to me?" Jay's voice was sharp.
"No, Mr. Williams. The job is done. We're getting rid of the body now."
"Make it a clean job. Don't leave a mess I have to clean up, or you'll all suffer," he threatened, his voice sending a shiver down my spine.
The men’s faces paled with fear. He hadn't even asked if I had suffered. His tone was emotionless, as if he were discussing a business transaction. My heart bled. The pain fueled a newfound resolve: I had to get out of here. I needed to know why he was doing this, and I had to make him pay.
Jay's voice on the phone was nothing like the man I knew—sweet, humble, and kind. He sounded ruthless, a true monster. The fear in the eyes of these seasoned-looking gangsters spoke volumes about his power.
"Yes, sir. You have nothing to worry about. We always do a clean job."
"Good—"
A coquettish female voice interrupted him from the background. "Are you done, babe?"
My heart stopped. It was a voice I would never forget: my best friend, Jenna Crawford. My childhood friend, my sister. The girl I would have given my life for. Now, a sick, twisted picture finally came into focus. I had noticed changes in them lately, but I had dismissed it, thinking I was overthinking things. How wrong I had been.
I heard Jay muffle the phone as he answered her. Then, his voice came back clear. "All right, Mitch. You know what to do once you're done. I don't expect to find you or any of your men in the country ever again. I don't want any surprises. This job is not like the others. This woman is very important. If any details leak, we're all dead. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir. I understand."
"Good." The line went dead, leaving a suffocating silence in the warehouse.
My mind was reeling. What did he mean, I was important?
- Writer
