Chapter 04

Isabella Pov:

I let out a piercing scream as a wave of horror washed over me. My hands trembled as I unzipped the bag that lay before me, and in that moment, I realized something was terribly amiss. This bag did not belong to me; it was not mine to possess. Confusion swirled in my mind as I grappled with the inexplicable presence of guns within it. How could this be? Why would I be carrying a bag full of guns? And more alarmingly, how had such a dangerous bag managed to pass through hotel security undetected?

It was as if time stood still, and the weight of the situation pressed upon me like a heavy burden. The sight of those weapons filled me with an overwhelming sense of dread, and I couldn't help but wonder how I had become entangled in this situation.

Something felt off, and I didn't want to get involved in whatever was happening. Standing there in my towel, I stared down at the bag expecting to see my clothes, but what I found inside left me unsettled.

Instead of my pretty outfits, the bag held unfamiliar items that didn't belong to me. It was a bewildering sight, and I couldn't comprehend how this mix-up had occurred. I felt a sense of unease and a desire to distance myself from whatever mysterious situation had presented itself.

Realizing the gravity of the situation, I swiftly made up my mind to prioritize my safety above all else. With the bag of illicit guns before me, I knew I couldn't risk being mistaken as the culprit responsible for smuggling such dangerous weapons. Taking decisive action, I decided to call the police.

I quickly made my way toward the bedside table where my phone was tucked away inside my purse. My heart raced with a mixture of fear and anticipation as I reached out to grab it.

But just as my hand closed around the reassuring weight of the phone, a sound disrupted the eerie silence of the room. A distinct ticking noise echoed through the air, causing my muscles to tense and my senses to sharpen. It was a sound that sent shivers down my spine because someone has just entered my room.

A wave of dread crashed over me, intensifying the already unsettling atmosphere that enveloped my room. I stood frozen, a knot of anxiety tightening in my stomach, as I struggled to comprehend the intrusion that had taken place.

My gaze shifted towards the bed, where the enigmatic bag lay ominously. The sight of it, filled to the brim with illicit guns, sent a chill down my spine. How had this day taken such a treacherous turn? It seemed as though misfortune had clung to every moment, refusing to grant me respite or a single glimmer of positivity.

As I mustered the courage to turn around and confront the intruder who had invaded my room, an unforeseen force acted swiftly, robbing me of both vision and breath. Before my eyes could capture the face of this mysterious individual, a cloth was abruptly pressed against my nose, cutting off the precious flow of air. Panic surged through me as I struggled to draw in even the slightest gasp of oxygen.

Disorientation enveloped my senses as the room spun in a dizzying whirl. The world around me blurred, distorted by the effects of the cloth that now clung to my face.

‘Oh God, am I going to die like this, in my towel, at the tender age of twenty-three?' my mind raced as fear and despair intertwined, casting a shadow over my every thought.

Summoning every ounce of strength I possessed, I fought against the restraining grip that constricted my waist. With a desperate surge of energy, I attempted to dislodge the hand that covered my nose, robbing me of life-sustaining breath. But my efforts proved futile, as if my struggles were nothing more than feeble whispers against the raging storm.

Suddenly, a deep, commanding voice resonated from behind me, shattering the suffocating silence. Its timbre carried an air of authority as if belonging to someone who held control over the situation. "Throw this girl in the garage for now," the voice declared, "and I'll take care of this bag."

Relief surged through me like a lifeline, dispelling the darkness that had threatened to consume me, at least I wasn't going to die.

As weariness weighed heavily upon my senses, my eyelids succumbed to the overwhelming urge to close. Exhaustion washed over me like a relentless tide, compelling me to surrender to the realm of sleep. The world around me blurred and faded as if retreating into the depths of a hazy dream.

In the midst of this all, a new voice echoed in the proximity. Its tone carried a sense of reassurance, a subtle assurance that my unconscious state was of no concern. "No problem," the voice murmured.

As consciousness slipped further from my grasp, I felt myself being lifted by strong arms, cradled like a fragile burden. The rhythmic footsteps of the man echoed, each step carrying me farther away from the familiarity of my room. The world around me blurred, a tapestry of shadows and fleeting images that danced at the periphery of my fading awareness.

In the midst of this disorienting journey, a fragment of the conversation between the two men reached my ears, as if whispered from a distant realm. "Well," the first man spoke with a calculated tone, "and now it's time to proceed with the mission further."

…….

An icy chill permeated the air, seeping into my bones as if to drain the very essence of warmth from my body. Seeking solace from the biting cold, I instinctively curled my legs closer to my torso, attempting to preserve what little heat remained within me. Yet, despite my efforts, shivers wracked my frame, a testament to the unforgiving cold that surrounded me.

I summoned the strength to pry open my heavy eyes. Blinking rapidly, I sought to clear the haze that clouded my vision.

As my heavy eyelids fluttered open, a sudden surge of excruciating pain tore through my skull, catching me off guard. A small scream escaped my lips, an involuntary response to the sheer intensity of the agony that enveloped my head. It felt as though a tempest of razor-sharp blades was relentlessly slicing through my very being.

Desperate to alleviate the torment, I instinctively placed my trembling hand on the side of my head, applying pressure in a feeble attempt to temper the relentless assault. Yet, despite my efforts, the pain persisted, unyielding and merciless. Each throb sent shockwaves of misery reverberating through my entire being.

Lost in the suffocating darkness, I could feel a wave of confusion washing over me. A whisper escaped my lips, barely audible, as I sought to make sense of my surroundings. "Where am I?" I questioned, my voice laced with a mixture of trepidation and bewilderment, "And why is it so cold as if I'm wearing nothing?" The oppressive darkness seemed to consume my very words, leaving them hanging in the air, unanswered.

Just as my headache threatened to overwhelm me completely, an unexpected sound shattered the silence. The distinct click of a turning doorknob reverberated through the darkness, jolting my senses awake. In an instant, memories surged forth, flooding my consciousness like a rushing tide. The familiarity of that sound brought with it a flood of memories.

I felt a surge of fear as memories flooded back. It all began with the sound of the doorknob ticking. Now, I was filled with apprehension, unsure of what would happen to me. The footsteps grew nearer, echoing in the room, and the door closed with a soft thud, trapping the person inside with me.

My heart raced, and I couldn't help but wonder who had entered the room. Anxiety coursed through me, making my spine tingle.

Fueled by a mixture of fear and curiosity, I mustered the courage to break the eerie silence. "Who's there?" I called out, my voice echoing through the room. But there was no immediate response, only the lingering hush that seemed to envelop everything.

Undeterred, I tried again, this time with a touch of desperation in my voice. "Who are you? And where am I? What is this place?" My words hung in the air, hoping for a glimpse of clarity in the face of the unknown. The weight of uncertainty pressed upon me, demanding answers that seemed to elude my grasp.

As the seconds ticked by, a sense of frustration mingled with my fear. "Why have you brought me here?" I questioned, my voice tinged with a mix of indignation and confusion. "You should know that kidnapping is illegal," I added, my voice trembling with a mixture of apprehension and defiance.

In the stillness that followed my questioning, a muffled chuckle reached my ears, resonating through the darkness. The sound held a hint of amusement, as if my words had struck a chord of irony or jest. Instantly, recognition washed over me as I identified the familiar timbre of the man who had given me anesthesia earlier at the hotel. It was his distinct, broad, and masculine voice that had seeped into my consciousness.

The weight of the silence was shattered by the man's voice, "Blame your luck, for it is your luck that brought you here." He's sort of right to say this because from the very first moment, I awoke that morning, misfortune seemed to trail my every step.

But before I could fully process his words, his voice sliced through the air once more, this time tinged with a dangerous edge. "Or maybe," he continued, each syllable dripping with a foreboding intensity, "you can call it your death." The sheer gravity of his words hung heavily in the air, a chilling reminder of the perilous situation that engulfed me.

I felt genuine fear coursing through me, as the man's tone conveyed a dangerous seriousness that left no room for joke. It was clear that cracking jokes was not his style; instead, his words dripped with a hint of sarcasm. Trembling, I mustered the courage to ask, "Who are you?" My voice quivered, revealing the depth of my fear to anyone who heard me. The silence that followed seemed to stretch on forever, intensifying my anxiety.

With a single clap, the room was suddenly illuminated as the lights flickered to life. I couldn't help but feel a pang of frustration. If I had known that it was as simple as clapping to activate the lights, I would have done so much earlier. Nevertheless, I shifted my gaze toward the man who sat in the center of the room, his piercing eyes fixed directly on me.

My eyes followed a deliberate path, inching up from the man's toe towards his head. However, when my gaze met his cold, deep blue eyes, I found myself momentarily captivated. Time seemed to stand still as I gazed into those eyes, unable to tear my gaze away.

In the midst of the daunting circumstances that enveloped me, I couldn't help but be struck by their beauty and depth. Those eyes held a mesmerizing quality, drawing me in with their piercing gaze. They seemed to contain a myriad of emotions and untold stories, etched within their icy blue depths.

"Are you done staring?" his sharp words shattered the fleeting enchantment, bringing me back to the harsh reality of the situation. The sound of his voice jolted me, a stark reminder that now was not the time to be entranced by his captivating gaze.

His next words struck me like a blow, a twisted attempt at humor that fell flat. A hint of amusement danced in his eyes as he delivered the mocking statement. "Well, it would be a waste to kill you," he remarked, his tone laced with a twisted sense of jest, "so why don't you serve me personally since you have such a nice figure?"

Though I thought he intended it as a joke, but it failed to elicit even the slightest trace of laughter from me. Instead, the air hung heavy with tension, and the gravity of his words sent a chill down my spine.