Chapter 59
MONALISA P. O. V
I tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep as I eagerly awaited midnight. Eventually, I got up and unpacked the small bag I had brought with me, pulling out five pictures. Dominic had to be included in the pictures because he was responsible for Gardy’s death, and I was determined to avenge her.
As I looked at each picture, memories from twelve years ago flooded back. I remembered the horrific night when my mother, heavily pregnant, was brutally raped in front of my father by four evil men. My father was tied to a chair and forced to watch, unable to save her. My seven-year-old brother tried to intervene, but he was thrown from a skyscraper by one of the men and died instantly.
followed by my father, who was burned alive after witnessing the deaths of his wife, unborn child, and seven year-old son.
Those memories are still vivid, as if they happened yesterday. Despite feeling fragile and powerless at the time, I am grateful to have survived, thanks to Dominic saving me years ago.
It pains me to realize that I harbored hatred towards Dominic and sought revenge for something he was unaware of. Despite subjecting me to hell, he also risked his life to protect me. I now understand why he kept me locked up all these years to shield me from the truth and potential danger.
Reflecting on the night he forced himself on me, I remember threatening him. As he nonchalantly pulled up his trousers, he met my gaze and taunted, “Am I going to be your first kill?” It was as if he could read my thoughts.
I remained silent, glaring at him without uttering a word. He interpreted my silence as the answer to his question.
“Your eyes said it all, my dear,” he taunted, standing right in front of me. “I’ll be watching to see how far you’ll go.” With that, he turned and began to leave the room.
My voice stopped him in his tracks as he glanced back at me. “I promise your death will be slow and painful,” I threatened with a smile, lying weakly on the bed as he walked away, grinning.
But he was no different from Mob Bobby, and that wouldn’t excuse him. I vowed to avenge my family and Gardy’s death.
“Joanna!” a familiar voice called out to me.
“Oh, it’s you,” I snapped, startled by her sudden appearance, placing a hand on my chest to calm myself.
Nafia gave me a calm smile. “I’ve been calling your name for the past two minutes, but you didn’t respond,” she sighed, her shoulders dropping. “I figured you were lost in thought.” She smiled again.
“I couldn’t sleep,” I said, letting out a sigh. How could I, when my days were numbered?
Nafia chuckled. “Of course, no one would sleep peacefully in a building stained with innocent blood,” she said, her laughter fading as a hint of sadness flashed through her eyes.
Her words left me speechless as I tried to process them. “What do you mean?” I asked, pushing the pictures in my hand away, managing to move all of them except for Dominic’s picture, which got tangled in my duvet on the bed.
Nafia’s gaze immediately landed on the bed, and she reached out for the picture without hesitation, ignoring my question.
She picked up the picture, gazing at it thoughtfully, a faint smile forming on her lips. “Such a good man,” she said softly, still smiling.
“Do you know him?” I asked, furrowing
my eyebrows.
She nodded quickly. “Yes, he was my very good friend. He used to be a savant here, just like me,” she replied.
I was shocked, my jaw dropping as I looked at the young woman in front of me. Despite her petite frame, which could make one believe she was around 23 years old, her revelation about being friends with Dominic showed that she was not what I had initially thought.
“How old are you?” I asked bluntly, realizing my mistake.
She smiled and shook her head, seemingly understanding why I had asked. “I’m 32 years old,” she replied, shrugging and spreading her hands. She suddenly burst into laughter at my shocked expression.
“You’re lying, aren’t you?” I pointed at her, and she continued to laugh uncontrollably. I couldn’t be blamed for assuming she was my age, given our similar appearances.
After she managed to compose herself, she took my hand and whispered, “Come, let me show you something.” Her serious tone confused me.
We walked quietly down the stairs, and she led me to a black metal door. Nafia pulled out a set of keys, leaving me wondering how she had obtained them. I decided not to ask questions and followed her inside.
As she opened the door carefully to avoid making noise, I eagerly anticipated what she wanted to show me. To my surprise, the room was filled with books, resembling a library. I was taken aback and turned to look at Nafia in confusion.
Where are we and why did you bring me here?” I asked, looking around the unfamiliar place.
“Follow me,” she replied simply, walking past me and standing in the center of the room. After a few moments, she made a small jump on her toes.
Confused, I watched her, wondering what she was up to. I stared silently as she gestured for me to join her in the middle of the room.
Without hesitation, I placed my hands in hers and allowed her to guide me to stand beside her. Suddenly, a white line appeared and the room began to spin, causing the floor to sink beneath us. I clung to Nafia, feeling a mix of fear and confusion as we spun downward.
When we finally came to a stop in a different room, I was still shaken. Nafia laughed at my reaction, but I couldn’t find the humor in the situation as I looked around the dimly lit room.
Nafia let go of my arm and walked ahead, leaving me trembling in the eerie atmosphere. The smell of blood filled the air, making me cover my nose instinctively. As the light flickered on, I saw Nafia had turned it on, revealing every conners of the room.
My eyes roamed around the room, feeling like I had entered a different world. Goosebumps prickled my skin as I noticed several pictures of young women my age lined up on the wall. I couldn’t help but wonder why.
Bloodstains marred the walls, and as I moved closer, my eyes were drawn to the pictures. I reached out to touch the wall, and a chill ran down my spine when I noticed a familiar necklace around the necks of the women in the photos.
It was the same moon-shaped necklace that my father had given me, the one I had given to Diane at Derek’s mansion. “Why are they all wearing the same necklace?” I whispered, my hand still tracing the images.
Nafia sighed sadly. “They all died because of that necklace,” she explained.
“Why?” I asked, my mind reeling at the thought that I also owned the same necklace. My attention was drawn to one woman in particular in the pictures. “Who is this woman?” I inquired, struck by her resemblance to me in terms of eye color and hair.
“Her name is Becca,” Nafia replied, moving closer to me.
The name sent a jolt of recognition through me, and I racked my brain trying to remember where I had heard it before.