Taken by the Heartless (HEARTLESS, Book 1) (NOW EDITING)

TAKEN

                                                      2

Cassandra ceased her struggles when she realized that no amount of writhing could free her from the iron grip of her captors. The world had turned dark when the massive man struck her; her consciousness flickered out like a snuffed candle. When her senses slowly returned, she found herself flanked by two colossal bald men adorned with intricate tattoos that crawled up their skulls like sinister vines. Despite her fear, Cassandra's stubborn spirit refused to let them see her fears. Uselessly bound, she sat sandwiched between two of the four men in the vehicle—two commandeered the front while she shared the cramped backseat with the others. Strangely, the man whose blow had cast her into darkness was nowhere to be seen.

She didn't even know where she was being taken to, but she knew she would escape these people very soon, even though she didn't know how. The memories of the gunfire that tore through the tranquillity of their farmhouse ignited her grief anew, and tears betrayed her stoic facade. They had murdered her father.

Heartless Eros Castillo.

Where was he? She wanted to see him face to face. She was the girl that was going to kill him. As the car took a sharp turn, it rolled into a secluded road flanked by towering pecan trees, their branches weaving a sombre tunnel. Glancing back, Cassandra noted a convoy; a vehicle followed closely behind while another led the way. They approached a formidable black gate that swung open as if anticipating their arrival, revealing that the shadowed pecan grove was merely a grand driveway to an imposing mansion. As they drove into the expansive compound, a single tear traced a silent path down her cheek. It dawned on her that she might have just lost her freedom, maybe forever.

As Cassandra's eyes scanned the surroundings, they landed on a man guarding the gate, his silhouette framed by a machine gun slung menacingly across his chest. The burly figures around her seemed to loom larger with every passing moment, their intimidating presence casting a shadow over her thoughts. Why were all the men looking so hefty and cannibalistic? She shuddered at the wild notion that perhaps they were as monstrous in nature as they appeared in form.

The car halted in front of an imposing white mansion, its chimneys stretching skyward, nearly touching the crisp, clear blue above. The bulky men who had been her unwelcome companions in the backseat disembarked swiftly. As they prepared to open her door, the first car's door swung open, and a tall, broad-shouldered man emerged. Draped in a pristine white cashmere coat and a black fedora that obscured his face, he commanded the space around him.

Cassandra instinctively knew he was the almighty Eros Castillo because only a man of his reputation could walk with so much confidence, as if he invented the aura. Though his face was hidden, his sexiness was tearing through the cashmere coat like a knife. Her gaze followed him, drawn inexplicably to his figure as he moved towards the mansion. Her eyes trailed down to his shoes—those same shoes that belonged to the person who had struck her down. It was undeniably him.

Her reverie was broken as one of the stout men seized her, yanking her from the car with such force that pain rippled through her. Dragged away from the grandeur of the mansion, she glimpsed Castillo disappearing inside with a few others. The rough grip tightened, and a knife appeared in her captor's hand, its blade catching the sunlight and glinting ominously.

Panic surged inside her, her heart pounding against her ribs as the sharp edge neared. A desperate whimper escaped her lips as she collapsed to the ground, trying to recoil from the blade but hindered by the ropes binding her limbs.

"Please... Please... don't kill me," she pleaded, her voice choked with terror. She had harboured a sliver of hope upon her abduction, knowing that someday, somehow, she would be free from them, but what she didn't expect was facing what could be her end on her very first day in captivity. She didn't know if she would even get a chance to try to escape.