er 10
Chapter 10
2011 O
Damien stood in the doorway, staring at Seraphina in her wedding dress. A cruel, ironic smile twisted his lips. His voice was glacial. “I just told you to leave Isabelle alone, and you immediately have her kidnapped? Do you just have to bully her at every turn? And now you orchestrate this drama?”
Seraphina looked up, a flicker of confusion in her eyes. Before she could argue, Damien’s bodyguards moved in.
One of them grabbed a fistful of her long hair and yanked her violently to the floor.
Seraphina’s knees slammed into the marble, and the sharp, shooting pain made her face go white.
“Damien!” she stared at him, her eyes wide with disbelief. “How dare you do this to me?!”
He looked down at her, his expression devoid of any warmth. He waved a dismissive hand at his men. “Drag her to the car.”
They hauled her up, ignoring her struggles, and shoved her into the black sedan parked outside.
The moment the car door slammed shut, a cloth soaked in a chemical solution was pressed hard against her mouth and nose. Seraphina’s pupils constricted. She fought for a few moments, then the world went black.
She woke to a sharp, stabbing pain.
She was curled inside a rough burlap sack, unable to move.
The next second, the sack was lifted and thrown like a piece of trash onto a hard surface. Her arm crashed against concrete, and a searing pain shot from her wrist, as if the bone had snapped.
“Mmph…” A pained grunt escaped her, but it was muffled by the tape sealing her mouth.
“A one–for–one trade. Give me Isabelle,” Damien’s voice came from outside the sack, cold and alien.
“They say Mr. Blackwood adores Miss Croft. Looks like the rumors are true,” a hoarse male voice sneered. “Since you don’t care about your wife anyway, why don’t you put a knife in her? Let us see some of that rich man’s devotion.”
Damien was silent for a few seconds. “Isn’t the money enough?”
“Money?” the kidnapper chuckled. “Mr. Blackwood, we’re not in this for the money.”
A set of footsteps echoed from the shadows.
Accompanied by a slow, mocking clap, Julian Thorne strolled into the light, a playful smile on his face. “Damien. Long time no see.”
Damien’s eyes turned to ice. “Julian. So it was you.”
Julian shrugged. “My perfect plan was ruined by your ‘dear wife.‘ All I’m asking now is for you to stab her once. That’s not too much,
is it?”
“What plan?” Damien frowned.
Julian’s smile turned strange. He leaned in close to Damien’s ear and whispered, “You don’t know? I was planning to…”
A sharp ring from Julian’s phone cut him off. He answered it on speaker.
“Julian, when are you getting here? We’re all waiting for you…”
“I know.” Julian stepped back, shaking his head with mock regret. “You heard the man, Damien. My friends are waiting. So you need to decide, and fast. Either you stab Seraphina, or…” He paused, his smile turning into a predatory grin. “Neither of you walks out of
here.”
20:11
Chapter 10
The air felt thick, heavy.
Damien’s gaze fell on the squirming burlap sack, a complex emotion flickering in his eyes.
After a moment, he reached out and took the knife Julian offered. His voice was low. “Fine.”
He walked to the sack and knelt, pressing the tip of the blade against the rough fabric.
Seraphina seemed to sense the danger. She struggled more violently, her muffled whimpers trapped behind the tape.
Damien’s hand trembled slightly, but then his expression hardened again.
He plunged the knife into the sack without hesitation.
Thwump.
Blood instantly soaked through the burlap. Seraphina’s body went rigid, then limp.
“Haha, excellent!” Julian laughed, clapping Damien on the should
2011
ot guts, I’l
eyes turning sinister. “You stalled for time. And that comes with inter
Seraphina three more times.”
So now
give you that! But…” His tone shifted, his
the knife in Isabelle, or I put it in
Damien’s face darkened. “Julian, don’t push your luck!”
Julian was unmoved, leaning casually against a wall. “Choose, Damien. My patience
Damien’s fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white.
Finally, he took a deep breath. The blood–soaked knife plunged into the sack again.
Once…
Twice…
Three times…
Damien closed his eyes, his voice a hoarse whisper. “Seraphina… I’m sorry.”
is
wearing thin.‘
2011
