Disorientation was not a feeling people welcomed. Imagine being tossed into the deep end of a pool headfirst, and suddenly you couldn't tell which way to swim to give your lungs the oxygen its screaming for. Panic would fill your veins, anxiety clawing at your throat.
That was the sensation that was slowly growing in intensity the longer Pandora stared into the blank nothing.
She had woken up a good 30 minutes go, to bound limbs and gagged mouth, darkness surrounding her as far as she could see. Where was she? She had no clue, but if she had to guess, it was some abandoned warehouse. But where in the world did Chicago have abandoned warehouses?
"A forgotten wharf."
Her head instinctively turned towards the source of the voice, yet it remained in the dark. It wasn't one that was immediately familiar to her, but something about it was somewhat reminiscent, yet not entirely.
"I've been waiting for this for a long time, Pandora Talbott."
"For what?" she asked, wincing when she heard her voice crack, betraying the anxiety that she was doing her best to hide.
"To remind you of all you've taken from me."
---
"What happened?"
Rhys barely heard Anthony's question, as he dashed out the glass doors of the hospital lobby, his eyes wildly searching the sidewalk. He heard Anthony skid to a stop next to him, having ran into him as he exited the elevator, but barely paid his best friend a visit as he rushed to search for Pandora's blonde head.
Yet somehow, she had vanished.
"Was she angry?" he asked, persistent as always.
Rhys shook his head. "No, not at me at least. She just wanted to - " he stopped when his eyes caught sight of something glinting beneath the street light which had lit up the moment the sun set.
His brows furrowed as he walked closer to inspect it, and his heart dropped to his stomach the moment he saw the familiar charm bracelet that had once upon a time reminded him of many bittersweet memories.
"Tony, get Benedict and Howard. They've got Pandora."
---
"What bullcrap are you talking about?" Pandora squinted, as her eyes began to adjust to the darkness. A lean looking male stood. The finer features she could not make out, but she could see his arms were adorned with what seemed to be expensive jewelry and a bulky watch, an obvious display of wealth.
"My mother loved my father. Enough to follow him to his death, apparently. Because of you, my sister is an orphan before she even turns ten. And me? At least I know padre would be proud of me, even if I took over his organization younger then he ever was." The voice spoke with a controlled sense of amusement, yet underneath the silken tone, Pandora knew anger simmered, the type that's been left to brew for years and years, and she shifted uncomfortably as footsteps drew nearer to her.
Within seconds, someone stepped into the dim light that filtered in between the cracks of the roof from the streetlight outside, enough for her to make out a sharp, angular face, hair cut clean to his scalp. Looking to be about eighteen or nineteen, the young man was covered in tattoos on his arm, and an expensive looking gold chain hung off his neck, dangling as he crouched, a menacing smile directed at Pandora.
"Does the name Garcia ring a bell?" he sneered.
The name hit a nerve in her head, and her brows furrowed as the familiar dull thud built up behind her head again. Garcia, Garcia... somewhere by a body of water, a loud sound that almost reminded her of a gunshot, and the name... "Carlos Garcia?" Just as the name slipped from her lips, Pandora fell to the ground upon impact of the male's palm slamming against the side of her face.
YOU ARE READING
Pandora's Box
RomancePandora had always known a life of luxury. As the daughter of a songstress and a high ranking Navy officer, she had never needed to lift a finger. Talented with a paintbrush and putting her imagination to canvas, Dora is a well celebrated artist who...