The world thinks she's dead, purely so she could become her fathers ultimate & deadliest weapon.
Armed with a new alias & a fearless attitude Gabriella Valentino goes undercover in enemy quarters to avenge her mothers death once and for all.
She's...
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C H A P T E R T W E N T Y S E V E N
"Daria?" I whispered.
She wasn't doing too good, she was still alive; barely. Her whole face had swollen and she was unconscious.
Had Ace not cauterised her wound she would've died days ago but she was here suffering instead.
However, without medical attention she was likely to die soon along with any real chance of my escape.
"Daria!" I yelled louder and she somewhat grunted but ultimately couldn't move, speak or even breathe properly. Daria had lost all worth to me, she was about as useful as a white crayon.
Time moved by, I couldn't keep up with it. I didn't see daylight, I didn't see nightfall. I just heard a water drip that got faster at certain times of the day - I hadn't yet figured out the pattern.
My mind had constructed the blue prints of my master plan and that started with the sandstone.
I chipped away at it little by little. Vigorously moving my arms to scrape away millimetres of stone from around the bolt. It was working. Over the course of a few days the chain had loosened considerably.
The door pulled open and I stopped twisting my hands and stood still. Aces men lifted a torture victim into the room and strapped him to a metal chair resting upon a plastic tarp sheet.
Ace walked in, slipping on black latex gloves. He wore a coat over his suit and it had splatters of rain water covering it. I was so unbelievably thirsty that even the splashes of rain looked appealing to my dry tongue.
Ace dragged a chair to sit opposite the guy and set out a tray of torture tools. I licked my cracked lips and focused my attention on the men, fighting through my dehydration just to listen.
"We're gonna have a little chat you and I. It can be friendly or-" he ran his fingers over his shiny instruments "it can be not so friendly. That's up to you.
There's a ship with a container on, departed on Friday. Where is it docking?" The man stayed quiet, sworn to loyalty by whatever faction he was working for. Ace sighed. "Who signed off on the container?" Another question met with silence. "Last chance, where is the ship docking?" No reply.
I sighed and both of their eyes shot to me.
"Yes?" Ace quirked a brow.
"Nothing." I croaked out, a throat sore and a voice raspy. He turned back to his other hostage.
"Okay, where shall we start? Your fingers?" He held up a bone cruncher and the guy finally found his voice.
"Look, I swear - I don't know anything. Certainly nothing about the shipment. I collect the goods and hand them over but it's all an anonymous trade so I don't get to know who signs off on them or who signs to receive them."
