I Too Had An Unrequited Love Story

47- The Weight of Guilt

Veronica blinked as her eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light around her. Her head pounded, and it took a few moments before her surroundings began to make sense. She was bound to a chair, her wrists tied tightly behind her back, her legs similarly restrained. Panic fluttered in her chest as flashes of memory surfaced—fighting with Arek on that empty, secluded road, storming out of the car after another heated argument, and watching him drive away. She remembered wandering alone, disoriented, when a car suddenly pulled up. Then, nothing.

Her pulse quickened as fear began to creep into her thoughts. She tugged at the ropes binding her hands and feet, but the knots didn't budge. Her throat tightened as she realized just how helpless she was.

A mocking voice broke the silence.
"Ah, Sleeping Beauty's finally awake."

Veronica's head snapped up, her gaze landing on a man kneeling in front of her. His face was unfamiliar, and the look in his eyes made her stomach drop. A cold, twisted smile played on his lips.

"Who are you?" Veronica demanded, her voice steadier than she felt.

The man's smile widened, amused by her attempt to assert control over the situation. He leaned closer, his breath reeking of tobacco and something sour.
"We've heard you've got quite the temper. Feisty, they say," he murmured, reaching out to stroke a lock of her hair. Veronica flinched, jerking away from his touch as disgust churned in her gut.

"Don't touch me," she snapped, trying to keep her voice strong despite the fear clawing at her insides.

The man chuckled, clearly enjoying her resistance.
"We just want money, sweetheart. That's all this is about," he said casually, as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world.

Veronica's mind raced. Money. Of course. But where was she supposed to get them money when they had already taken the necklace? She narrowed her eyes. "How much?" she asked, her voice cold, masking her panic.

He ignored her question, running his fingers over her cheek with deliberate slowness. A wave of nausea washed over her, and she instinctively leaned back, trying to avoid his touch. In her effort to pull away, the chair tilted, sending her crashing to the floor. Pain shot through her side and wrist as she hit the hard ground, her body twisted awkwardly in the ropes.

The man chuckled darkly, standing over her, watching as she struggled to right herself. "So the rumors were true," he sneered. "You are a wild one."

Before Veronica could muster a response, another voice cut through the air.
"Leave her alone. We just need the cash."

Veronica squinted toward the speaker and recognized the dirty-blonde man from earlier. He was one of the men she had seen at Arek's estate—the one who had confronted Austin. Her stomach dropped. What was happening? Austin had paid them off, hadn't he? Wasn't this nightmare supposed to be over?

The dirty-blonde man stepped closer, his eyes cold and calculating. "Don't look so surprised," he said, his voice flat. "Austin gave us some money, sure, but the problem is, it came from stolen goods. The cops got involved. That necklace you pawned? Yeah, the police flagged it."

Veronica's breath caught in her throat. Arek. That's how he found out about the necklace. The police. Guilt and dread twisted inside her as she realized the mess she was now tangled in.

"Look," the man continued, "we don't care about the details. We just want what's owed. You pay us, and we let you walk. Easy as that."

Veronica gritted her teeth, ignoring the searing pain in her wrists as she shifted on the floor, still bound to the fallen chair. "Then let me go, and I'll get your money," she said, forcing confidence into her voice, though every fiber of her being felt brittle and terrified.