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A flicker of defiance dances in my eyes as I meet Marcel's gaze, my voice low and fierce. "Enjoy this while you can," I say, the words heavy with a promise of retribution. "Claude will find me, and when he does... you'll wish you were in hell instead."
Marcel's laughter reverberates off the damp walls of the basement, grating on my nerves like a serrated blade. He gazes at me with a mix of contempt and perverse fascination, his eyes lingering on every contour of my face.
"Bold words for a helpless little thing," he drawls, his tone dripping with condescension. "You think Claude cares about you? You're nothing but a pawn to him."
I refuse to let his words sting, holding onto my unwavering defiance. "Better a pawn than a spineless prick," I retort, my voice quivering with a mixture of fear and resolve.
"Watch your mouth," Marcel snarls, stepping ominously closer, raising his hand as if to deliver a punishing blow. My heart pounds in my chest, every muscle in my body tenses, bracing for the impact. The air grows heavy with anticipation, the room pulsating with a volatile energy.
Defiance burns within me, fueling my unwavering resolve. "Or what? You'll hit me?" I spit, my voice dripping with defiance. I meet Marcel's gaze without flinching, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing my fear. "You'd only be proving me right."
In a frenzy of rage, Marcel unleashes his fury, his backhand landing with brutal force against my cheek. Pain shoots through my face, but I bite down hard on my lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing my cry. My vision momentarily blurs, the room spinning around me. Steeling myself, I fight to regain my bearings, my eyes locking onto the figure that strides into the room.
Remy Laurent, charismatic yet tempestuous, storms in, his face etched with a mixture of anger and concern. "Damn it, Marcel! What have you done?" His grip tightens around Marcel's collar, yanking him away from me. Marcel struggles against his brother's hold, his anger churning like a tempest.
"You've started a war we can't win!" Remy's voice booms, echoing with a mix of frustration and desperation. His grip on Marcel remains unyielding, a visual testament to his authority within the tangled web of their familial ties.
"Let go of me!" Marcel snarls, attempting to shove his brother off. “You ran away, now you wanna run shit?”
Remy stands firm, his eyes piercing into Marcel's with a cold, calculating gaze.
"Enough," Remy commands, his voice a sharp blade that slashes through the tension-laden air.
The brothers fall silent, locked in a tense standoff. Remy, the embodiment of strategic calculation, releases his grip on Marcel with a forceful shove. They stand there, two sides of the same twisted coin – one wild and unpredictable, the other cold and methodical. Two halves of a fractured family, torn apart by their opposing natures.
"Fix this mess, or I will. The entire family isn’t going to pay for the fact you can’t keep your fucking mouth off a whiskey bottle," Remy warns, his gaze flicking to me for the briefest of moments. In that fleeting connection, something unspoken passes between us—a shared understanding, a silent plea for help that hangs heavy in the air.
A plea he doesn't answer.
Marcel's eyes glint with defiance, yet a flicker of uncertainty dances behind the facade. A shadow of fear.
He turns to me.
"You’re not going to be fixing shit," he spits, his voice laced with venom as he straightens his clothes. "Claude has twenty-four hours to comply with our demands, and he’s going to bend for this little peach." He fixes his gaze upon me, a challenge issued without words. I meet his glare head-on, my defiance a mirror to his own.
“If Claude has twenty-four hours, mon frère, you have ten.” Marcel turns on his heel, his footsteps receding as he retreats into the shadows of his own making.
The air between us crackles, a current of tension that binds us together in this dark, dank basement. I watch his eyes, cool and calculating, as they lock onto mine for a heartbeat again before skittering away.
"Remember, Remy," Marcel's voice echoes back from the hallway, venomous and biting. "We're family. You're in this whether you want to be or not."
Remy's jaw tightens, the only outward sign of the storm raging within. He turns on his heel, stalking after Marcel with a deadly grace, leaving me bound and alone in silence. The basement door slams shut in their wake, sealing my fate along with it.
I remain in the shadows, my mind racing. Twenty-four hours. It's not much time, but it's all I have. And I'll be damned if I let these monsters win.
With my eyes tightly shut, I gather my dwindling reserves of strength. The harsh fibers of the ropes, constricting and leaving their painful mark on my skin, begin to loosen beneath my determined touch. Methodically, I work to free myself, my hands trembling from the physical strain and emotional turmoil.
Finally, the ropes around my wrists yield, granting me the freedom I have fought so fiercely for. The relief that washes over me is fleeting, quickly overshadowed by the harsh reality of my situation.
"Help!" I cry out, my voice reverberating off the cold, unforgiving concrete walls. The sound of my own desperate pleas bounces back at me, a cruel reminder of the isolation that engulfs me. "Please, someone help me!"
The darkness remains unyielding, refusing to offer me any solace or response. Silence envelopes me, broken only by the distant drip, drip, drip of water echoing through the darkness, a haunting symphony that amplifies my desperation.
Desperation claws at my chest, threatening to consume me whole. But I refuse to succumb to the darkness. With fierce determination, I rise to my feet, my movements unsteady as I navigate through the abyss, my hands outstretched to find anything, any semblance of salvation.
I claw at the walls, my fingertips tracing their cold surface, searching for a weapon, a glimmer of hope, anything that might aid my escape. But the room remains barren, devoid of any means to secure my freedom, mirroring the emptiness and ruthlessness that resides within the hearts of the men who have brought me here.
Hours pass, and I’m still here. And the only thing more terrifying than my uncle not taking Marcel’s bait is if hedoestake it. I don’t want to be the cause of a gang war. I’ve seen firsthand the horror that brings.
