When We Met

CH 15 Rosaline

Well, we're here now in this dank cage, still a bit disoriented from that devastating bomb blast back at the compound. If I wasn't so shaken and my hands weren't cruelly bound, I would have kneed that bastard who manhandled me and laid out the piece of shit that backhanded me across the face.

I glared daggers at the latter - some fair-haired brute who had been eyeing me lecherously ever since we were tossed in this iron prison. As if I were some piece of meat to be gawked at by lowlife scum.

"Hey, you okay?" Matias' worried voice cut through my vengeful thoughts. He had taken in the blooming welt across my cheekbone. "What the fuck!"

His outburst drew the attention of the nearby guards, but not enough to pull the cruel gazes of their apparent leaders - two men engaged in a heated argument nearby. One was clearly elder, emanating an aura of cold authority, while the other was much younger, radiating a more overtly menacing presence. He bore the distinctive tattoo of the Walsh cartel on his forearm.

"What happened? Who did that to you?" Alejandro asked in a hushed tone, trying not to make more of a scene.

I shook my head, swallowing hard. "Don't worry about me. We need to check on the others. Some ran when the bomb went off, but I saw most stay put...including your aunt."

My gaze drifted to the separate, slightly smaller cage where a defiant but outnumbered Yelena sat alone. A cold knot twisted in my gut.

"I think they took her to isolate and torture for information," I murmured, throat tight. "Dios mio, I don't want anyone else getting hurt over me."

Matias and Alejandro exchanged a weighted look, seemingly reading my mind.

"We think your bastard uncle may have tipped them off anonymously," Matias admitted grimly. "I overheard guards saying they got an anonymous call about our operations here."

My blood turned to ice in my veins. Of course...it all made sense now. Betrayed by family once again. I should have expected nothing less from that traitorous snake, Hector.

"The leader over there, the older one?" Alejandro continued, gesturing subtly towards the two men I'd noticed before. "That's Charles Walsh, the patriarch of this whole operation. Rumour is he runs it jointly with his elder brother until his son takes over."

He nodded towards the cold, merciless presence of the younger man - the one who had assaulted me. "That's his heir, Logan. Don't get on his bad side..."

I locked furious eyes with the brute, undeterred by his cutting gaze. So this was the face of the monster ruling Britain's underworld with an iron fist. Logan Walsh, the next recurring nightmare to haunt me.

As if he could sense my soldering hatred, the corner of his thin mouth quirked upwards in a cruel smirk. His eyes roamed over me brazenly once more, as if already imagining the depraved ways he planned to violate and defile me.

Well, this puta would get more defiance than he bargained for once the interrogations began. The Fernandez rose had thorns in spades, and I would shred the sadistic bastard's flesh to burn any false sense of power over me out of his system.

I was not some helpless victim to be cowed - I was the sole heir to the mighty Fernandez bloodline. And it was high time the Walshes learned what catalogue of horrors that inheritance truly entailed.

Hours seemed to blur together as we sat imprisoned in that dank, windowless cage. One by one, the other captives succumbed to physical and emotional exhaustion, huddling in trembling clumps or sprawling awkwardly on the bare concrete like broken dolls.

But Matias, Alejandro and I remained awake, clustered together and conversing in tense murmurs. We were a small oasis of defiance amidst the despair, plotting and stealing our resolves.