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Atwell's gaze flicks away momentarily, as though he's been touched by my words.
But then, he shakes his head and looks back at me, that same dearth reflecting in it.
"An eye for an eye," he mutters and walks over to a nearby table, and I watch in horror as he begins laying out an array of torture tools with surgical precision: pliers, a blowtorch, and a knife.
The sight of those instruments sends a wave of nausea through me, and bile rises in my throat.
My hands tremble against the cold metal pole I'm tied to, and I struggle to keep my breathing steady.
I pray.
I send silent messages of courage to my baby.
I beg that my child won't feel what I feel. I wonder if I should tell Atwell, but something tells me he'd revel in knowing I'm pregnant.
He'd hurt me more. Revenge for his son.
This can't be happening, I tell myself, desperately clinging to the hope that this is all just a terrible dream.
But deep down, I know it's all too real, and the dread that fills every fiber of my being threatens to suffocate me.
"Please don't do this," I beg, unable to keep the tears from streaming down my cheeks.
"There has to be another way."
"Trust me, if there was, I would take it," Atwell replies, his expression cold and unforgiving.
"But this is the only way to ensure that Anthony's father gets the message."
My heart hammers against my chest, each beat a countdown to the pain that awaits me.
Atwell's eyes narrow as he studies the tools before him, his fingers hovering over them with a sadistic patience that sends shivers down my spine.
"Such an array of choices," he murmurs, his voice chillingly calm.
"Which one shall I use on you first?"
"Please," I whisper, my voice cracking.
"You don't have to do this."
"Ah, but I do." His lips twist into a cruel smile as he selects the pliers and holds them up for me to see.
"Now, let's get started, shall we?"
"Wait!" I cry out, desperation fueling my last-ditch effort to escape this nightmare.
"What if I told you something that would change everything?"
He raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued despite himself.
"And what would that be?"
"Anthony…" I swallow hard, trembling at the thought of betraying him.
But it could save us both.
"Anthony is planning to take down his father. He won't stop until he's brought him to justice."
