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19 August 2022 (X)
"He won't come."
Cynthia sat back on her wooden bench, little splinters poking through the material of her clothing, carefully making sure to not make any sudden movements that might trigger the gun that was currently pressed against the back of her head.
"Confident?" Cynthia's captor smirked, his eyes narrowing down on her as he leaned back on his chair; the only difference being that his chair was elegantly cushioned.
"Absolutely," Cynthia replied, a yawn escaping from her lips.
She had been here for almost the whole night and she desperately wanted to go back to her hotel room. She knew she should be scared but with all that had happened this past few days, she was just done. Cynthia felt done with this mafia business altogether and just wanted to go back to her mundane life of staring at a blank page. She knew this man in front of her won't kill her so it didn't make her feel as if she needed to beg for her life. If he wanted her dead, he would have done so. She just needed to be careful and pray to the heavenly officials to make sure Cassian didn't come.
As romantic as it could be, Cynthia didn't want Cassian to come and save her. Despite her fragile appearance, Cynthia wasn't some damsel in distress. She watched as her captor rubbed his thumb over the bruise on his lips as well as the glowing red scratches on his cheeks and couldn't help but feel proud of herself for not giving in until he pulled out a gun similar to her uncle's Glock.
Cynthia let out another yawn.
"Tired?" Her captor teased.
Cynthia's tummy audible rumbled.
Her captor playfully scoffed, "Apples are on the table."
"For the past six hours," Cynthia pointed out.
"Look's like someone is counting," her captor reached towards the table between them and grabbed an apple, "Do you prefer your apples coated or naked?"
"I hate apples."
Her captor placed the apple back in the apple basket, "Looks like you and I have something in common."
That better be the only thing, Cynthia thought, "I want to go home."
Her captor glanced at the silver watch on his wrist, "Let's give him ten minutes, shall we?"
Cynthia let out an audible sigh, "You said that ten minutes ago."
"You've survived twelve hours with me. What is another ten minutes going to do?" her captor asked, "Look, we both know that I don't want anything to do with you. I just need your guy to show up."
"First of all, he is not my guy," Cynthia clarified, "Second of all, I have a flight to catch and finally, he won't come. We are not on good terms right now."
"Couples fight all the time," he shrugged, "Like I said, princess, we will wait another ten minutes. Why are you adamant?"
Cynthia fell silent.
"Are you afraid that he might actually come?"
Cynthia looked away.
"How cute," her captor chuckled, "Let's bet on it."
Cynthia looked back at her captor but remained silent.
"Now come on, don't give me that look," her captor sighed, "I have been nothing but a gentleman to you. I provided you with a chair, placed apples on the table and I didn't even tie you to your chair despite you punching and scratching me upon my arrival."
"You were going to kidnap me!" Cynthia pointed out.
"I was merely going to escort you to our vehicle and bring you here," he explained, "That was until you threw a punch and scratched my handsome face."
Cynthia felt uneasy as her captor picked up the knife on the table and playfully examined it, his lips curving into a smirk as he said, "Isn't it fair if I do the same?"
Cynthia's stomach dropped as he got up and made his way towards her, the knife glistening in his hand. She wanted to get up but the feeling of the cold tip of the gun's front pressed against the back of her head. The room was filled with people carrying guns and there was no way Cynthia could escape them all without getting shot. Her captor gently took her chin in his scarred fingers and gave her a soft smile.
"You certainly do have a pretty face," her captor smiled as he pressed the cold blade against Cynthia's cheek, "Would be such a shame to see it get torn apart."
Her captor bent down and whispered into her ear, "What do you say, princess?"
"Let her go, Dong Hua."
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