When We Met

CH 44 Rosaline

I wake up to the sensation of a cold, damp cloth being dabbed on my forehead. My senses slowly return, and I realise I'm slumped in a broken chair. The smell of blood and sweat fills the air, and a sharp, throbbing pain radiates from my hip, causing me to gasp.

"Ahhh," I groan, wincing at the intensity of the pain.

"Stay still," a voice murmurs, its tone dripping with disdain. "We weren't meant to shoot you, but you were so annoying, running away with that guy. Oh well, now we can't even fuck you because you're too broken and bruised."

I force my eyes open and focus on the man holding the cloth. His face is twisted into a cruel smirk, his eyes gleaming with malice. He dabs the cloth roughly against my skin, the cold water doing little to soothe the burning sensation. Anger flares inside me, and I slap his hand away, my fingers trembling with a mix of rage and fear. I muster all the strength I have left and spit in his face.

"You will never get any of me! Now tell me where I am and where Mateo is," I demand, my voice shaking but defiant.

The man simply laughs, a cold, hollow sound that echoes in the dimly lit room. "Oh, princess, the guys you're with don't really know. We just beat him up and left him there. All we needed was you, and I don't think you can speak to me like that. You are way in over your head."

His words are like venom, each syllable dripping with cruelty. He presses his thumb into my open bullet wound, sending a fresh wave of searing pain through my body. I scream in agony, my vision blurring with tears.

"See? You're in no state to make demands, okay? If I want something, I'll take it," he sneers, his face inches from mine.

I grit my teeth, fighting back the pain and the urge to cry out again. He starts to leave when another man walks in, his presence imposing and silent. "Boss wants to see her. Apparently, he's expecting his guests soon and wants both whores with him when he bargains," the new guy says in a monotone voice, barely glancing in my direction.

The first man's smirk deepens. He roughly pulls me up, sending fresh waves of pain through my body. I bite my lip to keep from screaming. "I guess we will get to fuck you after all. Then I'll get to watch the boss put a bullet in your tiny little head," he says, his tone gleeful and sadistic.

As we move down the corridor, the flickering lights cast eerie shadows on the damp, concrete walls. My heart pounds with every step, the fear and adrenaline coursing through my veins making it hard to focus. I catch sight of a tattoo peeking out from under the man's shirt. It's the crescent moon tattoo of the Fernandez clan. A flicker of recognition and hope sparks within me. These men are supposed to be my allies. It must be Hector. If Hector's here, then Maria must be too. I make a silent vow: whatever happens, I'll get her out of here, even if it costs me my life.

The hallways seem to stretch endlessly, each turn taking us deeper into the compound. The guards exchange glances, their expressions a mix of boredom and anticipation. We reach massive double doors that swing open to reveal a grand hall. My heart sinks as I take in the scene. There, on a throne-like chair, sits a man with a hood over his head. Maria is kneeling on the floor in front of him, her hands bound tightly. Around them stand 10 to 15 guards, heavily armed and alert. The air is thick with tension, the silence oppressive.

My gaze shifts to Hector, who is on the floor, groaning in pain and clutching his shoulder. His face is pale, sweat dripping down his temples. I don't feel any pity for Hector. My focus is solely on Maria. Her eyes are wide with fear, her body trembling. I want to race to her, take her in my arms, and tear off those ropes. But I'm roughly pushed forward, and we come to a halt in front of the man in the hood.

The tension in the room is palpable. I feel the guards' eyes on me, their fingers twitching near their weapons. Just then, a commotion breaks out. Guns start firing, and I see Alejandro, Noah, and Logan being dragged in, bound and struggling. Their faces are bruised, and their clothes torn, but they are alive. My heart pounds as I realize how dire our situation is. The guard holding me tightens his grip, pressing into my bullet wound again. The pain is unbearable, and everything starts to blur.

"Hold still," he growls, lifting me onto his shoulder. I cry out in pain, the last of my strength ebbing away. The world around me turns fuzzy, the sounds of gunfire and shouting becoming distant echoes. As he starts to walk, the darkness closes in, swallowing me whole.

I fight to stay conscious, my thoughts a jumbled mess of fear and desperation. Faces blur past me, and my own breathing sounds distant. The pain from my hip radiates through my body with each step the guard takes, and I feel myself slipping away again. In the haze, I can hear snippets of conversations, threats, and the cruel laughter of our captors.

As the guard carries me through another set of doors, the air changes, becoming cooler and mustier. The distant sound of dripping water and the echo of our footsteps tell me we're descending further into the compound, perhaps to a basement or dungeon. The guard finally sets me down on a cold, hard surface. I shiver, my body wracked with pain and fatigue.

"She's here, boss," the guard announces, his voice echoing in the dim space.

Footsteps approach, and through my blurred vision, I see the hooded man looming over me. He pulls back his hood, revealing a face I know all too well. Romano. His eyes are filled with a sickening blend of amusement and malice.

"Hello, Rosaline," he says, his voice smooth and mocking. "Miss me?"

My stomach churns. It's Romano, my brother my blood, my protector, how could he.