My heart raced, the pounding in my chest clashing against the ringing in my ears. Questions clawed through my mind: was I alive or dead, trapped in a dream or in reality?

Alive!

 I had to be. The ache in my skull was proof enough. What could be more real than pain?

I looked around. Nothing had changed. The same suffocating darkness swallowed everything, devouring even the thought of escape.

A soft movement stirred on my lap. Shasha. Her curly hair brushed my arm, grounding me. My pulse was still frantic, but confusion struck harder. How had I fallen asleep? How had I slipped into that nightmare?

Did I get drugged? Impossible.

A sigh escaped me, weary and raw, my eyes still scanning for a way out of this place.

When I raised a hand to my face, I felt wetness streak across my skin. Tears. I had been crying. Not that it mattered. Nothing mattered now but finding a way out.

The slam of a door snapped me back to reality, jolting Shasha awake. Smoke trailed into the room like a warning, curling around the frame of the beast who stepped through.

My stomach turned. Danger wasn't approaching; it had already arrived.

"Aren't you ladies lovely," he drawled, mocking, his voice dripping with sarcasm. But it was the glint in his eyes that made bile rise in my throat. He was enjoying this. Our fear, our helplessness.

Hate burned through me, white-hot. My fists clenched until my knuckles ached.

His gaze swept lazily over us, settling on me. He licked his lips, the gesture replaced by the slow drag of the cigarette between them. Shasha pressed herself deeper into me, trembling, not from the cold, but from terror.

It hurt. Not just the bruises on my body, but the helplessness, the cruelty of this hell.

Like a predator savoring the moment, he stood watching us, then flicked his hand in a signal. His men moved forward.

They reached for Shasha.

"No! You sick fuck—let her go!" I clung to her wrist, pulling her tighter against me. But a boot cracked across my face, stars bursting in my vision. Pain blinded me, dazed me. Shasha's screams rang through the room until the door slammed shut and silence swallowed them.

I clutched my head, terrified to touch my nose, broken, I knew it was broken.

The click of a lighter snapped me back. I had forgotten. He was still here. Watching. His eyes, cold, lifeless, cut into me as the flame revealed the curve of his jaw, cigarette dangling between his lips.

"What are you going to do to her?" My voice cracked, broken. He didn't answer. Just watched, smoke curling in the stale air.

"ANSWER ME!" I screamed, fury laced with sobs.

The cigarette dropped. He crushed it under his shoe. His jaw tightened, a storm flashing across his face.

I pissed the beast off.

He began to move. Step by step, deliberate, slow. I staggered back with every inch he closed, my pulse rattling in my throat.

"What gives you the right to question me?" His tone was venom, deep and controlled. "You hold no power here. You're a mouse caught in the trap. And unless you want me to shove my cock down your throat, I suggest you keep that pretty mouth shut."

The smirk on his lips twisted my stomach. The disgust, the violation of his words, it shook me to the core.

I didn't realize how close he was until his hand clamped around my wrist. Steel. My bones screamed under the pressure, his grip so tight I swore he could shatter me with a twitch. 

I wince from the pain, meeting his eyes head-on.

"Cat got your tongue, little bow?" he mocked, dragging me closer. A gasp tore out of me as my chest collided with him. His body was unyielding, muscle hard beneath his tailored suit, but my focus was on the pain searing through my wrist.

"I love the fear in your eyes," he murmured. "The pleasure it would bring to watch them go lifeless..." he chuckled darkly 

Then he let go.

I crumpled to the ground, my legs trembling, too weak to hold me. He straightened his jacket, adjusting as if nothing had happened.

"But one day." His words were a promise, carved with intent. He turned toward the door.

Before stepping out, he glanced back, his voice calm, final:

"I'll send my men for you. After all, I never forget a deal."

The door slammed.

Air rushed back into my lungs in a violent gasp. My chest burned, reality pressing in harder than ever.

I didn't want to be here.

I couldn't be here.