The sound of her heels clicking away was like nails in a coffin, the final nail in the coffin of our friendship. I was alone, in the dark, with Adrianne looming over me. I knew that I couldn’t trust Rachel anymore. The only thing I had was the hope that she hadn’t completely turned, that there was some semblance of the person I knew left in her.
Adrianne remained silent as Rachel spoke, her eyes never leaving my face. Her expression was unreadable, a mask of indifference. I wondered if she was enjoying the show, or if she was just biding her time, waiting for her moment to strike.
Once Rachel’s cold laughter had faded into the background, she leaned down, her breath hot against my ear. “You’re pathetic,” she murmured. “Begging for the life of that little mistake you call a son.”
“He isn’t a mistake, I yelled back, my voice cracking with rage. “He’s innocent!”
Adrianne’s eyes narrowed, a smirk playing on her lips as she took a step closer to me. “Innocent?” she echoed. “That little bastard is a stain on this family’s name. A reminder of your whorish ways.”
Her words fueled my anger, and I pulled against the handcuffs with all my might, desperation giving me strength. “Get away from me,” I snarled, my eyes flashing with fury. “You don’t know anything about me or my son.”
But Adrianne wasn’t easily deterred. She leaned in, her breath hot and sour against my face. “Oh, I know enough,” she said, her eyes gleaming with malice. “I know you’re nothing but a whore who couldn’t keep her legs shut around my husband to be.”
The words hit me like a slap, but instead of cowering, they fueled my anger. “My son is not a mistake,” I repeated, my voice strong despite the fear clawing at my insides. “And if you think for one second that I’m going to let you or anyone else hurt him, you’re dead wrong.”
Adrianne’s smirk slipped, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of doubt in her eyes. She took a step back, and I knew I had hit a nerve. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” she said, her voice low and dangerous. “But you’re just a disposable toy. A pawn in a game you can’t even begin to understand.”
Have you ever wondered why Harrison never even thought of looking for you? You actually thinks he loves you, he claims everyone he fucks and you weren’t the first, don’t think you’re special in any way.
Her words echoed in the room, the truth of them sinking in like a stone in water. Harrison had used me, claimed me as his own, and then discarded me without a second thought. Rachel had played me, using my trust to maintain her own position. And now here I was, at the mercy of the very people who had brought me into this twisted world.
The weight of their betrayal was crushing, but it also brought a strange sense of clarity. I had been a pawn, a piece on their chessboard. But now, with nothing to lose, I was free to make my own moves.
I took a deep breath, trying to push aside the pain of Rachel’s revelation. “You’re right,” I said, my voice eerily calm. “I’m not special. But my son is.”
Adrianne’s eyes narrowed, and she took a step closer. “Your son,” she spat, “is a mistake that needs to be corrected.”
The room grew colder, and I could feel the hatred emanating from her every pore. But I wouldn’t let her get to me, not anymore. “You leave Ethan out of this,” I hissed, my eyes never leaving hers. “This is between you and me.”
Her laugh was cold and mirthless. “Oh, but it’s not,” she said, leaning closer. “You see, your little mistake has made a very big mess. And now, it’s time for you to pay for it.”
With a flick of her wrist, she snapped her fingers, and the goons who had brought me here stepped forward, grabbing my arms. They began to drag me out of the room, and I struggled against them, my heart racing with fear. “Ethan!” I screamed, my voice echoing down the hallway. “Please, don’t hurt him!”
But Rachel and Adrianne just watched, their expressions unreadable. It was as if they were watching a movie, enjoying the show. The door slammed shut behind us, and the sound reverberated through the house, leaving me in the cold, harsh reality of my situation.
The goons pulled me along, and I stumbled down the corridor, my mind racing with thoughts of escape. But every door we passed was locked, and the mansion was eerily silent, as if holding its breath for what was to come. The only sounds were the jingle of their keys and the echo of my own desperate pleas.
“Please,” I sobbed, my voice raw with fear and anger. “I’ll do anything. Just tell me where Ethan is.”
But Rachel just shrugged, the light in her eyes gone, replaced with something cold and calculated. “You had your chance, Emma,” she said, her voice devoid of emotion. “Now, it’s time for you to face the consequences.”
The goons pushed me down a flight of stairs, the rough hands on my arms digging into my skin. We descended into a part of the mansion I had never seen before, a damp and musty basement that smelled of mold and despair. The walls were lined with shelves of dusty jars and bottles, the floor slick with something sticky and unidentifiable. My heart hammered in my chest as I took in the sight of the makeshift dungeon, the metal chains and leather restraints gleaming in the dim light.
They threw me into a small, windowless room, the door slamming shut with a finality that sent a chill down my spine. The handcuffs were removed, and the men left without a word, the sound of their footsteps retreating up the stairs. I was alone, my breathing echoing in the small space. The room was cold, the only light coming from a single flickering bulb above, casting eerie shadows across the walls.
I took stock of my surroundings. The floor was concrete, stained with what I didn’t want to think about. In the corner, a mattress lay on the ground, a single blanket thrown over it. There were no chairs, no table, just four bare walls and the heavy door that separated me from the outside world. My wrists were bruised from the handcuffs, and my heart raced in my chest.
I had to find a way out of here. For Ethan. I couldn’t let them take him from me. I had to be strong, for him. With trembling hands, I felt along the wall, searching for a weakness, a button, anything that might lead to escape. The cold stone offered no solace, only a reminder of my captivity.
The minutes stretched into hours, and my hope began to waver. How could Rachel do this to me? To us? The pain of her betrayal was a knife twisting in my gut, but I couldn’t let it consume me. I had to think, had to plan. I had to be smarter than them.
As I sat in the corner, my eyes began to adjust to the darkness. I spotted a small crack in the wall, barely visible in the flickering light. It was the tiniest of openings, but it was something. I inched closer, my breath held, and slid my finger into the space. It was just big enough to get a grip on. With a surge of adrenaline, I began to pull.