The Glossy Eyes

Chapter 51: Torture.

Nathaniel gritted his teeth, feeling the pain coursing through his battered body. Blood trickled down his face, mixing with the dirt and sweat. The room was dimly lit, casting eerie shadows on the walls, amplifying the tension in the air.

His gaze shifted to the familiar faces of his gang members, bound and bruised like him. They had fallen into a meticulously planned trap, and now they were at the mercy of their captors. Rayne's smug expression only fueled Nathaniel's anger, mingled with a sense of betrayal.

Rayne's mocking tone cut through the silence, taunting Nathaniel's belief in their previous alliance. "Did you seriously believe me?" he sneered, a glint of triumph in his eyes. Rico, once an ally, now stood by Rayne's side, his gaze filled with guilt and remorse.

Struggling against his restraints, Nathaniel demanded, "What do you want, Rayne? Why have you done this?"

Rayne's grin widened, relishing the power he held over Nathaniel. "I want you to abandon this futile search for Salvatore's killer," he declared dismissively. "It's been years, Nathaniel, and you've found nothing. It's time to let it go."

Anger surged within Nathaniel, overshadowing the pain in his body. He spat out defiantly, "Over my dead body."

With a sudden burst of rage, Rayne's fist connected with Nathaniel's nose, the force of the blow causing him to recoil against the chair's restraints. Pain exploded through his head, momentarily blurring his vision.

As Rayne and Rico exited the room, leaving Nathaniel and his gang members bound and wounded, Nathaniel lay there, his thoughts consumed by the dire situation he found himself in. But amid the excruciating pain and uncertainty, his mind drifted to Alannah.

He imagined her, recovering from her surgery, her eyes newly opened to a world of visual wonders. Nathaniel knew she would be missing him, wondering where he was. Determination coursed through him, mingling with a deep longing to protect her.

Closing his eyes, Nathaniel gathered his strength, refusing to succumb to the darkness. He knew that he had to find a way out, to survive this ordeal and reunite with Alannah.

Nathaniel winced as he slowly regained consciousness, his face throbbing from the impact. He instinctively blocked another incoming blow, his gaze focusing on the face of his attacker. It was Adrian, who had always clung to Nathaniel since his father's passing.

"What the fuck, Ad?" Nathaniel exclaimed, his voice laced with a mixture of pain and confusion. "Why would you hit me like this?"

Adrian chuckled, a cold glint in his eyes. "I've been wanting to do this for a long time, and now I finally have the chance," he replied, his voice dripping with malice, "and I want that chair of yours."

Nathaniel groaned, pushing Adrian off him with all the strength he could muster. "Fine, take any chair you want," he grumbled, his voice strained. "Take all the damn furniture. I don't care."

Adrian rolled his eyes, a smirk forming on his lips. "Not any chair, Nathaniel. I want the cartel leader's chair," he declared, his voice firm.

Nathaniel hissed in pain, his body still aching from the beating. "Why the hell do you want it so badly?" he questioned, his brows furrowed in confusion.

Adrian met his gaze with defiant eyes. "It's not just for fun, Nathaniel. There's a purpose behind it, and I need to take that position," he explained, determination flickering in his expression.

Concern laced Nathaniel's voice as he spoke, his pain momentarily forgotten. "I don't want you getting into trouble, Ad. You're like family to me."

Adrian touchedé, his voice filled with conviction. "I'm not a kid anymore, Nathaniel. I can fight, I can lead. I'm not 'young Ad' anymore. I'm Adrian Moretti."