Shadows of Revenge

14. A New Lead, A Dark Night

The air in the room felt heavy as Freen paced, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. The call from Nam had come minutes earlier, and now, her blood roared in her ears as she replayed the details in her mind. Another name had surfaced—Fam, John's stepbrother. A man even more twisted, even more cruel, than John had ever been. Freen's chest tightened as Nam's voice echoed in her memory.

"He wasn't just an accomplice, Freen. Fam was the one who tortured Sarah the most. John was a monster, but this man... Fam enjoyed it. He's the one who—"

Freen couldn't hear the rest. Her vision blurred with rage as she fought to stay calm, but it was impossible. Fam had taken pleasure in hurting Sarah, in degrading her, in doing unspeakable things. The details Nam had shared were worse than Freen could have imagined. Sarah's screams, her pleas for mercy, had meant nothing to him. He had cut her, burned her, violated her over and over again, dragging out her suffering until there was nothing left of the woman Freen had loved.

And now, Fam was walking free. Smiling. Living his life as if Sarah's murder had been a mere inconvenience. But not for long.

The decision was made in an instant. Freen grabbed her jacket and her car keys, her mind already set on what she needed to do. But she had to play this smart. Becky was at her apartment, and though Becky trusted her, Freen knew she couldn't reveal this side of herself yet.

She took a deep breath, forcing calm into her voice as she stepped into the living room where Becky was lounging on the couch, scrolling absentmindedly through her phone.

"Hey, Beck," Freen called out casually, trying to mask the tension in her voice. "Nam just called. She's having some trouble with a case, and she needs my help tonight. I might be gone for a few hours."

Becky looked up, her eyes warm and trusting. "No worries. I'll just hang here. You want me to wait up for you?"

Freen's chest tightened with guilt. Becky didn't question her, didn't even hesitate to believe her lie. It was both a relief and a burden. "Nah, you don't have to. I might be late," Freen replied, offering a soft smile. "Get some sleep."

Becky nodded, giving her a smile in return, though something flickered in her eyes—concern? Curiosity? Freen couldn't be sure. But Becky didn't press, and that was all she needed. She was out the door in minutes, her mind already shifting from guilt to vengeance.

The night club was dimly lit, the bass of the music thumping through the walls as Freen stepped inside, her eyes scanning the crowd for her target. Fam. John's stepbrother, the second son of a powerful minister, who believed his wealth and status made him untouchable.

But Freen wasn't one to be intimidated by power. She'd brought down men like him before, and tonight, she would do it again.

Her plan was simple. Seduce him, make him vulnerable, and then tear him apart.

She spotted him near the bar, surrounded by women who laughed too loudly at his jokes, their hands grazing his arms, their eyes glinting with desire. He was tall, muscular, with an arrogant smirk that made Freen's stomach churn. His presence radiated a sense of entitlement, as if the world existed solely for his pleasure.

Freen approached him, her eyes cold but her smile seductive. She slid into the space next to him at the bar, her movements slow and deliberate. Fam's gaze landed on her, and within seconds, she had his attention.

"Hey there," he slurred slightly, his eyes roving over her with obvious hunger. "Haven't seen you here before. What's your name?"

Freen smiled, leaning in just enough to let him catch her scent. "Does it matter?"

He laughed, his hand brushing her waist. "Not at all, sweetheart."

The game was on. Freen played her part flawlessly—laughing at his jokes, letting him buy her drinks, touching him just enough to keep him hooked. Within an hour, she had him out of the club and into his private suite, where the real work would begin.

Once inside, Freen's demeanor shifted. Her smile faded, replaced by a cold, deadly focus. Fam, oblivious, poured them both drinks, his back to her. Freen moved quietly, her eyes narrowing as she slipped the blade from her jacket.

He turned, and in a flash, Freen had him pinned against the wall, the knife pressed against his throat. His eyes widened in shock, his arrogant smirk replaced by fear.

"What the—" he choked, but Freen silenced him with a sharp twist of the blade, cutting just deep enough to make him bleed.

"You remember Sarah, don't you?" Freen's voice was calm, but her eyes blazed with fury. "You remember what you did to her?"

Fam's face paled, recognition dawning as his breath came in short, panicked bursts. "I—I don't know what you're talking about," he stammered, but Freen only pressed harder, the blade biting into his skin.

"Don't lie to me," she hissed. "I know what you did. I know how you tortured her. How you enjoyed it."

Tears welled in Fam's eyes as he struggled to free himself, but Freen's grip was unrelenting. "Please," he whimpered. "I can give you money. Whatever you want."

Freen's lips curled into a cruel smile. "Money can't buy back what you took from her. But don't worry... you'll pay."

And with that, the real torture began.

For hours, Freen made him suffer. She peeled his nails off one by one, each scream of agony filling the room. She cut him slowly, deliberately, savoring every moment of his pain. His private part was the last to go, severed with a single, brutal slice before she fed it to the animals Nam had brought in.

Fam's screams echoed through the night, but no one came to save him. By the time Freen was done, his body was barely recognizable—a broken, bleeding mess. Nam, Yoko, and Faye arrived just as she was finishing, and together, they disposed of the body with the same precision they had used for John.

Freen felt no remorse. This was justice. This was for Sarah.

Back at the apartment, Becky lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Something wasn't right. She had heard about Fam's disappearance earlier that day, and though her initial instinct was to investigate, she had chosen to wait. Freen hadn't been at the apartment the night Fam vanished, and while Becky trusted her, a small voice in the back of her mind whispered doubts.

Could Freen have been involved?

Becky shook her head, trying to push the thought away. Freen had been through enough. She was moving on, trying to live her life. She wouldn't jeopardize that by doing something so reckless.

But as Becky lay there, doubt continued to creep in. She had fallen for Freen, trusted her, but there were still so many things she didn't know. And with each passing day, those unanswered questions became harder to ignore.

For now, she would stay quiet. She would trust Freen. But in the pit of her stomach, Becky knew that the truth was out there, waiting to be uncovered. And when it came to light, everything would change.

........