BOOK 2
Trapped within the iron grip of the notorious Morroto family, Veronica Garcia's fate hangs precariously in the balance. Days bleed into nights in the suffocating darkness of her prison, where despair threatens to consume her spirit. Each pass...
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HIS FISTS CONNECT with my jaw once more, sending a sharp jolt of pain through my skull as more blood drips from my mouth. My head hangs low, every breath ragged and painful. My wrists are raw and bleeding from the chains and cuffs, the metal biting into my skin with every movement.
I hear a dark chuckle, and it takes all my strength to lift my head. Elijah Morroto circles me like a shark hunting its prey, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. "You look like shit," he laughs evilly, his voice dripping with malice. My body trembles, but I force myself to remain expressionless, not that I have the strength to show any emotion anyway. The pain and exhaustion are overwhelming, yet I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing me break.
I can barely open my eyes. It could be because of the single light bulb glaring directly into them, or perhaps it's the relentless barrage of fists I've taken to the face.
Elijah stops in front of me and leans down, his hands resting on his knees as he looks at me with a twisted grin. I force my swollen eyes open, meeting his gaze. He shakes his head, chuckling darkly.
"Kai Alexander," he begins, savouring each word. "Born in Hong Kong Sanatorium & Hospital. Raised in a small town just outside of China, in Hong Kong." I manage to raise a brow in surprise, but he doesn't pause. "Moved to Portugal at the age of six and was raised into the Portuguese mafia by seven."
He leans in closer, his breath hot and foul against my face, making me wince. "You are the most vigilant and attentive person in the Portuguese mafia," he sneers, his voice dripping with disdain. "And considering your bachelor's degree in psychology, you can read anyone like an open book, sí?" His eyes gleam with malicious amusement as he mocks me, taking perverse pleasure in twisting the knife. "So tell me, Kai, what do you see when you look at me?" His grin widens, a grotesque display of teeth that sends a shiver down my spine.
I stare back at Elijah, summoning the last shreds of my strength. "I see a coward," I rasp, my voice thick with pain but unwavering. "A man who hides behind his thugs and his sadistic games. You think power comes from breaking bones and spilling blood, but I see the truth—you're terrified. You fear anyone who might challenge your pathetic reign, so you try to crush them before they can expose your weakness."
Elijah's smirk falters slightly, but I press on. "You know my history, my skills. You know what I'm capable of. That terrifies you, doesn't it? That's why you need to beat me down, to make yourself feel superior. But here's the truth: no matter how many times you hit me, no matter how much blood I lose, you will never break me."
I lean forward, locking eyes with him, my voice a fierce whisper. "Because unlike you, I don't hide behind fear. I embrace it. And that, Elijah, is what will be your downfall. You see, the real power isn't in inflicting pain—it's in enduring it. And I promise you, I will endure. I will survive. And when I do, I'll make sure you feel every ounce of this suffering tenfold."
