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Pain came first—a dull, throbbing ache that pulsed behind Jordan's eyes with each beat of his heart. The world returned to him in fragments: the metallic taste of blood in his mouth, the cold bite of metal against his wrists, the smell of damp concrete and cigarette smoke. Jordan blinked slowly, his vision blurry and unfocused. A single light bulb hung from the ceiling, swaying almost imperceptibly, casting shifting shadows across the walls of what appeared to be a basement or cell. The movement made his stomach roll with nausea, and he swallowed hard against the urge to vomit. "Focus," he muttered to himself, his voice rough as sandpaper. "Get it together." He tried to move, only to find his hands bound tightly behind his back, secured with what felt like zip ties cutting into his skin. His ankles were similarly restrained, fastened to the legs of a heavy metal chair that was bolted to the floor. The restraints were professional work—no slack, no give, no easy way out. Jordan fle
"I must admit, I'm curious," Xavier continued from somewhere behind Jordan. "Did Victor really think one man could succeed where an entire team failed?" A pause. "Or perhaps he simply considered you... expendable." Jordan felt Xavier's presence directly behind him, could sense the man leaning closer to his ear. "Tell me, Jordan," Xavier whispered, his breath hot against Jordan's neck. "How does it feel to be the sacrificial pawn in Victor's game?" Jordan kept his eyes fixed on the wall ahead. "Better than being the king with no kingdom," he replied evenly. "How many territories have you fucking lost to Victor this month? Three? Four?" The sudden backhand caught Jordan across the jaw, snapping his head to the side. Pain exploded through his face, but he smiled through it, tasting fresh blood. "Touched a nerve there, didn't I?" Jordan said, spitting blood onto the floor. Xavier moved back into Jordan's line of sight, straightening his cuffs as if nothing had happened. But Jordan
Victor paced his study like a caged tiger, his expensive shoes wearing an invisible path in the plush carpet. The phone in his hand remained silent, a mocking reminder of Jordan's continued absence. He had tried calling for the eighth time, each attempt met with the same result—straight to voicemail. "Damn it," Victor muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Where the hell are you, Jordan?" He glanced at his watch—11:34 PM. Jordan should have called by now. Should have reported in. Should have found Miguel. The knock at the door was tentative, almost hesitant. Victor knew before it opened that it would be bad news. Gerald entered, his massive frame filling the doorway. The years had softened his physique but not his presence. His weathered face was grim, the deep lines around his mouth pulled down in a frown. "Boss," Gerald began, his voice low and gravelly. "We found Jordan's phone." Victor went still, his body tensing as he asked. "Where?" "Near the old textile factory on
*Two years earlier* "You know, a normal person would say 'Thank you, Jordan, for saving my life,'" Jordan said, pressing a bandage to the gash on Maria's arm. His touch was gentle despite the teasing tone of his voice. Maria rolled her eyes, wincing slightly as he secured the bandage. "If you hadn't been showing off, I wouldn't have needed saving in the first place." They were in the back of the car, having narrowly escaped a meeting gone wrong. Jordan had pulled her out of the line of fire, but not before she'd caught a stray bullet graze. "Showing off?" Jordan raised an eyebrow, his hazel eyes dancing with amusement. "Is that what you fucking call taking down three armed men while protecting your ungrateful ass?" Maria snorted, but there was a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "I had it under control." "Sure you did," Jordan replied, his voice softening. "That's why you were about to charge a guy with a semi-automatic using nothing but your charming personality." The
Two of Xavier's men dragged Selena down a long, dim hallway. Her legs hurt from sitting tied to that chair for so long. The concrete floor was cold against her bare feet. They had taken her shoes days ago. Small mercies—at least they'd let her keep the rest of her clothes. The air grew cooler as they went deeper underground. Selena could smell dirt and mold. This was a different place than where Xavier had kept her before. Bigger. Hidden. "Where are we going?" she asked, her voice rough from screaming earlier. The men said nothing. One just pushed her forward harder. At the end of the hall, they stopped at a metal door. One man pulled out a key and unlocked it. The door creaked as it opened. They shoved her inside. "Xavier wants you to think about what we talked about," one of the men said. "He'll be back." The door slammed shut behind her. The sound of the lock clicking felt final. Selena stood in the center of the small room, her eyes slowly getting used to the dark. There wa
The heavy metal door slammed shut, the sound echoing through the small cell. Xavier had stormed out, a vein throbbing dangerously at his temple. Jordan's words had hit their mark. The metal door slammed shut with a hollow clang that echoed through the small cell. Xavier had stormed out, the vein in his temple pulsing visibly after Jordan's final insult. Santiago had followed like a faithful shadow, leaving Selena alone with Jordan. For a long moment, the only sound was Jordan's labored breathing. The dim light filtering through the tiny window cast harsh shadows across his battered face. Selena approached him cautiously. "Let me look at those cuts," she said, reaching toward the gash above his swollen eye. Jordan jerked away from her touch, wincing as pain shot through his ribs. "Don't fucking touch me," he spat. Blood sprayed from his split lip with each word. "You need help," Selena insisted, her voice soft but firm. "Not from you." Jordan's one good eye fixed on her with undi
Selena's fingers traced the ragged edge of her torn dress, her breath catching in her throat. The tiny cell felt like it was closing in around her, suffocating her with memories she'd fought so hard to bury.Jordan watched her, his bruised face a map of pain and anger. One eye swollen shut, the other drilling into her with an intensity that made her want to look away."Why?" he asked again. Just one word. But it carried the weight of years of secrets.She laughed—a hollow, broken sound that bounced off the concrete walls. "Because I was afraid," she whispered."Afraid of what?" Jordan shifted, wincing as pain shot through his battered body.Selena’s breath came in shallow gasps. She pressed her back against the cold wall, her nails digging into her palms. "I was afraid of the life Victor lived," she said softly. "The danger. The darkness. I wanted something different for my son."Jordan snorted. "So you ran?"Selena’s hands clenched into fists. "You don’t get it." Her voice was sharpe
Miguel was so close.The pier was just ahead, the scent of saltwater thick in the air. His small fingers clutched the navigation device, the red dot blinking steadily, urging him forward. Mr. Growls was tucked tightly under his arm, the only comfort in this strange and terrifying night.He could see the boats now—rocking gently in the dark water, their lights flickering like tiny stars. His heart pounded with hope. Maybe Roberto’s sister was already there. Maybe she would take him somewhere safe, somewhere far away from the bad men.But his legs hurt. Every step felt heavier. His stomach twisted with hunger, and his throat was dry. He had been brave for so long, but exhaustion was creeping in. He just had to make it a little farther.Then, everything went wrong.A pair of headlights flared to life behind him, flooding the narrow street with light. The deep roar of an engine cut through the night air. Miguel turned, squinting against the brightness, and his heart stopped.A black SUV.
Victor sat alone in his study, the lights off, only the moon casting silver shadows across the room. Selena's diary lay open on his desk, her words like ghosts haunting the space between heartbeats.He reached for his glass of whiskey, but his hand shook so badly that it slipped from his fingers, shattering against the hardwood floor. Just like everything else in his life—broken, sharp, dangerous to touch.Five years of hatred. Five years of plotting revenge against Xavier, believing Selena had willingly betrayed him. All while she had been protecting their son, enduring God knows what horrors to keep Miguel safe."I didn't know," he whispered to the empty room, his voice cracking. "I didn't know."Something hot and wet slid down his cheek. Victor touched it, surprised. He couldn't remember the last time he had cried. Not when his mother died. Not when he was sent to prison. Not even when he believed Selena had chosen his enemy over him.But now, alone in the dark, the tears came like
Miguel's question echoed in Victor's mind long after he'd tucked his son into bed. Don't you want Mommy to come home? The truth was, Victor didn't know what he wanted anymore. For five years, anger had been his compass, pointing him forward when nothing else could. But now that compass was spinning wildly, unable to find true north. The next morning, after checking on Miguel who was still sleeping with the gold locket clutched in his small fist, Victor found himself standing in the doorway of Selena's empty room. He hadn't been inside since she left. Hadn't wanted to. Now he stepped in, the door clicking shut behind him. The space still smelled faintly of her jasmine perfume. Victor ran his fingers along the dresser top, expecting dust, but the servants had kept the room cleaned. As if expecting her return. He opened a drawer, not sure what he was looking for. Empty. She had taken almost everything, leaving behind only what she had arrived with—nothing. In the closet, a s
The morning sun filtered through Miguel's curtains, painting warm shapes on his bedroom floor. His eyes fluttered open, small fists rubbing away sleep. For one peaceful moment, everything was normal.Then he remembered yesterday's adventure with Mommy. Her extra tight hugs. The way she kept touching his face like she was trying to remember every little part of him."Mommy?" he called, climbing out of bed.When no answer came, Miguel padded down the hallway in his dinosaur pajamas, his small feet silent against the marble floor. He pushed open the door to his mother's room.Empty.The bed was made, perfect and untouched. No clothes in the closet. No brush on the dresser. Nothing to show his mother had ever been there at all.A cold feeling spread through Miguel's chest. He ran to the kitchen, to the garden, to all their special places."Mommy?" His voice grew more frantic with each call.He found his father in the study, talking in a low voice with Gerald."Where's Mommy?" Miguel deman
Selena traced her finger along the small apartment's living room window. It wasn't much—two bedrooms, a tiny kitchen, plain walls that needed painting. But it was hers. A place Xavier had never known about. A place Victor couldn't find.She signed the lease with shaking hands."You can move in next week," the landlord told her, handing over the keys.Next week. Seven days to say goodbye to her son.The drive back to Victor's mansion felt endless. Each mile bringing her closer to the hardest decision of her life. But there was no other way. Miguel needed peace. He needed his father. And Victor would never heal with her there, a constant reminder of betrayal and lost years.The next morning, Selena woke Miguel with kisses on his forehead."Let's have an adventure today, just you and me," she whispered.Miguel's sleepy eyes brightened. "What kind of adventure?""A special one. Our secret."She dressed him in his favorite blue shirt and packed a small backpack with snacks and his toy bear
The hospital room was quiet except for the steady beeping of monitors. Maria sat beside Jordan's bed, her fingers gently wrapped around his limp hand. Four days had passed, and still he hadn't opened his eyes."You know," Maria whispered, thinking he couldn't hear her, "I never told you this, but that night in Barcelona... when you took that bullet for me?" She swallowed hard. "That's when I knew."She traced the outline of his bruised knuckles. "I've spent so long pushing people away. Especially you. God, I was so stupid."A tear slipped down her cheek. "Just wake up, Jordan. Wake up so I can tell you that I-""That you what?"Maria froze. Jordan's voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, but his eyes were open—those familiar blue eyes watching her with a hint of their usual mischief."You jerk!" Maria gasped, nearly knocking over her chair as she jumped up. "How long have you been awake?"Jordan's split lip curved into a painful smile. "Long enough to hear you being all mushy. Didn
Maria's fingers trembled as she held Jordan's limp hand. The steady beep of hospital machines filled the sterile room. She hadn't left his side in three days. "You idiot," she whispered, her thumb tracing circles on his bruised knuckles. "You just had to play the hero." Jordan lay still, his face swollen and discolored. Tubes ran into his arms. A breathing mask covered his nose and mouth. The doctors had been clear—his chances weren't good. Broken ribs. Internal bleeding. Severe dehydration. His body had finally given out the moment they'd reached safety. Maria closed her eyes, the memory washing over her again. That second kiss. The way his arms had wrapped around her, pulling her close like she was his anchor in a storm. Then his eyes rolling back, his body crumpling to the ground. "Don't you dare die on me," she said. "Not after everything." A knock on the door made her look up. Gerald stood there, his side bandaged beneath his shirt. "How's our boy?" he asked, moving slowly i
"No! Mommy! NO!"The scream tore through the quiet mansion, jolting Victor from sleep. He was moving before his mind fully registered what was happening, feet hitting the cold floor as he ran toward his son's room.Miguel was thrashing in bed, tears streaming down his small face, fighting some invisible enemy in his dreams."Miguel." Victor sat on the edge of the bed, gathering the boy into his arms. "Wake up, mijo. It's just a dream."Miguel's eyes flew open, wild with terror. For a moment, he didn't seem to recognize Victor."You're safe," Victor murmured, rubbing small circles on the boy's back. "No one can hurt you here."Miguel's small body was hot with fear, his heart racing against Victor's chest. "The bad men were taking Mommy away again," he whispered.Victor closed his eyes, feeling his son's pain like a physical thing. "Your mommy is safe too. She's just down the hall.""Can I see her?" Miguel pleaded, his voice small and lost.Victor hesitated. It was past midnight. The ru
The helicopter blades slowed as they landed at Victor's estate. The night had been long. Too long. Bodies had been cleaned up, loose ends tied, and wounds patched. Victor carried a sleeping Miguel in his arms, the boy's small head resting against his shoulder. Each breath from his son felt like a miracle—a child he hadn't known existed just weeks ago. Behind him, Selena limped up the marble steps of the mansion, her face still bearing the marks of Xavier's cruelty. Thomas helped her walk, his own shoulder bandaged where the bullet had torn through. "Put her in the east wing," Victor told Gerald without looking at Selena. "She'll have everything she needs there." Something flashed across Selena's face—pain, understanding, resignation. She said nothing as Gerald led her away, her eyes lingering on Miguel's sleeping form. Victor stood in the grand foyer, his son in his arms, watching her disappear down the hallway. The space between them felt like miles. --- Three days passed in st
The sudden patter of small footsteps made everyone freeze. A tiny figure appeared in the doorway, his eyes wide with fear and confusion.Miguel stood there clutching his teddy bear, Mr. Growls, to his chest. His small face crumpled at the sight before him—blood, guns, and the adults who were supposed to keep him safe all looking broken and desperate."Mommy?" His voice was small and scared when he noticed his mom being held at gunpoint.Selena's face drained of color. "Miguel! No!" she whispered.Xavier's attention snapped to the boy, his eyes lighting up with sudden calculation. The gun in his hand wavered, then slowly turned toward the child."Come here, boy," Xavier called, his voice honey-sweet despite the madness in his eyes.Victor noticed the shift, saw the way Xavier's body language changed. For all his cruelty, Xavier must have grown fond of the boy who had once called him uncle. It was there in the slight softening around his eyes, the hesitation in his trigger finger.Migue