Eighteen-year-old Ivy Silver's life took a dark turn when the glittering facade of a famous strip club concealed a future she never envisioned. Trapped, she desperately sought freedom, only to fall into the clutches of Hermann Rodriguez, an arrogan...
Three sleek black cars screeched to a halt, forming a perfect line. Genevieve stood beside Norman, a picture of simmering impatience, her gaze fixed on the approaching Hermann. The sight of him sent a fresh wave of nausea through me. I rolled my eyes, collapsing onto the bed. Hermann, the name itself tasted like bile. Who did he think he was? God? The irony was almost comical; he couldn't even keep a houseplant alive, let alone bestow life. A bitter laugh escaped my lips as I remembered his ludicrous commands from that night, mere moments before the brutal punishment. The sheer absurdity of it all was almost enough to make me laugh. "I hate him," I whispered. _______________________________________________
HERMANN RODRIGUEZ POV.
"Where is he?" I asked as soon as I got out of the car.
"In the cell," Genevieve said, and Norman started walking.
The cell was damp and smelled bad. Norman flicked the light switch; the bulb flickered, almost died, then settled into a dim glow. "Perfect," I muttered to myself.
A man sat in a chair in the middle of the room, tied up, bleeding, barely conscious. Bruises covered his face and body.
"Well, well," I said, my voice loud enough to make him jump. He trembled.
"No! No, please! Leave me alone! I don't know anything! I swear!" he cried.
"It'll be a lot less messy if you just tell me what I want to know," I said, leaning closer. He flinched back in his chair.
"I don't know anything! I swear!" He kept repeating it, gasping for breath. I rolled up my sleeves.
"Roberto doesn't care about your loyalty, you know that, right?" I said, my voice low and dangerous.
"I don't know Roberto, except from what Santiago said. I just supplied them with weapons. Wrong place, wrong time. Believe me, I regret it."
"I don't believe in coincidences." I pulled out my gun and pointed it at his legs. His eyes went wide. He tried to squirm away, but the ropes held him fast.
"Okay, okay! Roberto's the new leader of the White Vultures. Santiago's his right hand man. He's powerful, but you can't get to him directly. He has a young sister, Annie. If you get Annie, you get Roberto. That's all I know! I swear! Please, let me go!"
"Where's this Annie?" I asked, my voice cold.
"At the Bull Strip Club, almost every night. But she's heavily guarded," he warned.
"Sleep tight," I said, and shot him. It was quicker than wasting more time.
"Norman, to my office," I ordered.
"Yes, boss."
"What'd you find out?" I asked.
"Ivy Edward Silver. Eighteen. Eldest daughter of the Silvers in Mexico. Incredibly rich and powerful family. Her father was a successful businessman, no underworld connections...until his greed got the better of him. Everything went to hell for her, her mother, and her younger brother, Joachim, who's presumed dead, but I'm still investigating. Her mother's still alive somewhere. Mateo found Ivy and bought her for the club."
"Anything else?"
"Not yet. Still digging."
"Boss!" Carlos rushed in.
"What?" I snapped.
"Maris Castro..." he said, his voice barely a whisper.
"What about her?"
"She's dead." Norman shook his head in disbelief.
I called Richard Castro. "Is it true?" I asked. He just broke down. "She's gone, Hermann... my wife is gone..." The pain in his voice was unbearable. "They killed her," he choked out, blaming himself.
"I'm coming. Hold on."
"I'll come with you," Norman said. "Take care of things," I told Carlos, and left.
The drive to Richard's house was short. The house was wrecked. Bodies lay scattered everywhere. Richard was on the sofa, covered in blood, holding a bottle of vodka and a cigarette. Maris lay dead on the floor, naked, brutally murdered.
"See?" he said, laughing hysterically. "That's what they did to her."
"We need to move her," Norman said softly.
"No, she stays here. Where I can see her," Richard said, crawling closer to his dead wife.
"She's gone, Richard," I said, trying to get through to him.
"No! I can still hear her voice! My Maris is still alive!" He was clearly losing it.
"Whatever Maris is telling you right now...be strong, Richard," Norman said, hugging him. Richard sobbed uncontrollably. "I shouldn't have left her," he whispered.
I went outside. Maris's last words came back to me, "You'll know what love feels like someday, Hermann. Even you deserves to love." She'd said it months ago, a winter night at my house. Magnificent. She was a loving friend, a wife, a sister and a mother. "I don't want to love," I muttered. "You don't have to want it," she'd said. "It'll happen. And you won't be able to stop it." Her memory was a bittersweet. It was a huge loss on our family, a wound we didn't know how to heal from.
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Thank you all for reading this chapter my sweethearts. Please vote, comment and pop up a private message if one's too shy. Tell me what you think about all this. Your support is my strength. NB: Ignore any grammatical problems.
