Chapter 3 Horace's Visit

• Immaculate as ever in a tailored suit, Horace looked out of place in the gloomy safe house. His presence alone was enough to silence the room.
• Nina sat up straighter, her pulse quickening. The flicker of hope rekindled. At last.
• “Unbind her.” He ordered with reproach. One of the men who had poured in behind him scurried to it.
• His eyes swept the room before landing on her. They narrowed when he caught sight of the angry red scar across her cheekbone. He moved closer, crouching slightly so that his shadow fell over her.
• “What happened?” His tone was smooth, but there was a sharp edge beneath it.
• Nina swallowed, her throat dry. “One of them hit me,” she said quietly.
• The silence was suffocating. The men adjusted with unease.
• Horace straightened up, turned, and moved slowly toward his men like a leopard about to pounce on its prey. His countenance asked the question already.
• “She bit me,” one of the men, Logan, blurted.
• Horace’s hand lashed out at him instantly. His fist cracked against Logan’s jaw, sending him stumbling backward into the wall.
• “You don’t do what I don’t say,” Horace hissed, his voice venomous. The man clutched his bleeding lip, eyes wide with fear. Horace straightened. “This is going to cost me a lot that your entire life fortune cannot afford.” He adjusted his mafia rings and cufflinks with icy calm and beckoned another man in the corner, “You’ll watch her now.”
• The man stiffened. He hesitated and then muttered, “But, there are more important jobs to do than to babysit.”
• Horace’s head turned slowly, his gaze falling on him like a blade pressing to flesh.
• “Please, boss, I don’t want to babysit.” The man begged.
• Horace’s slight frown faded as he placed his hand on the man’s shoulder. “I say what’s important, and this is super important to me.”
• “Of course, boss.” The man’s head bowed in despair.
• Satisfied, Horace’s expression smoothed again, though the chill in the air remained.
• Nina blinked, startled. He had defended her… but not freed her.
• Her lips parted, the question burning on her tongue: Why are you letting them keep me here? But she didn’t dare speak it.
• Horace turned and let his gaze linger on her for a while. There was something unreadable in his eyes; regret, calculation, or perhaps both. “Don’t worry, honey; I have a beautiful plan for you.”
• Then he turned and strode toward the door. “Get Doctor Eddie on the phone for me.” The men all followed him, but the new guard he appointed still stayed put, feeling sad. The supposedly former guard, the same man Horace had hit, stood aside, and after all the men had moved, he dangled a single key in the new guard’s face.
• The man glared at him for a while before leaving, ignoring both him and his key.
• He rolled his eyes and followed him, dragging the door with him. The lock clicked behind him, sealing her in again.
• Nina sat frozen, her mind racing. He had protected her from cruelty, yet left her in the hands of the assassins still. That contradiction chilled her more than any threat could.
• In the silence that crept back into the room, a terrible suspicion began to take root as Nina replayed all that Horace said in her mind. “You don’t do what I don’t say,” “This is going to cost me a lot that your entire life fortune cannot afford.” “I say what’s important, and this is super important to me.” He is their boss. These are his men. !!!
• Wait a minute. No, it can’t be.
• Nina shook her head to dismiss the thought that her uncle was the one pulling the strings. But, for what reason? He is family. She tried to stand up but was too weak. She lay back down on the cot and curled up as it was getting chilly in the room.
• “No, please, no…”, Nina rocked side to side on the cot for some seconds before she charged up. Nightmare. She had drifted into sleep while in deep thought. She rubbed her eyes, the reality of being a hostage drenching her. The injury on her face throbbed worse.
• The door creaked open. A thin man in a white coat stepped inside, carrying a black case.
• “I’m here to tend to your wound,” he said quietly, his voice clipped and professional.
• Nina stiffened. Her fingers curled into fists as the medic set his box on the coffee table.
• Her jaw locked. “I don’t want it.”
• The medic hesitated, glancing at the door, then back at her face. “It could scar badly. If it gets infected…”
• “Let it.” Her voice cut sharply, brittle. “Who cares? It’s a good way to die.”
• The man said nothing more. He opened his case and laid out gauze and vials, wore his medical hand gloves, and waited in silence. Nina turned her face away, defiance burning in her chest.
• But as minutes dragged, her energy waned. The sting on her cheek pulsed with each heartbeat. Her head throbbed badly, her eyes spinning at intervals, leaving her hollow and trembling. Exhaustion gnawed at her resolve.
• At last, she exhaled shakily and forced the words out. “Just… do it.”
• The medic nodded once. He worked quickly, swabbing the wound, pressing antiseptic that made her flinch. Nina bit her lip, refusing to cry out, even as tears pricked her eyes.
• “How long did it take you to arrive here?” she asked him while he packed his tools.
• He hesitated and glanced at the door again, as if asking for permission. “About an hour.”
• So, she had dozed for over an hour. And she was one hour away from help.
• He handed her a pill, “Pain relief.”
• He reached and gave her the bottle of water on the table and watched her as she took the pill.
• Job done, he grabbed his suitcase, and just as he was about to leave, Nina grabbed his hand. “Help me,” She whispered. “They kidnapped me.”
• Without a word, the man gently slipped his hand out of Nina’s hold and left. The new guard, whom she didn’t notice had been in the doorway all the while, followed him. The doorway was not properly lit by the bulb, so one could barely tell anything in that area.
• The door clicked shut, and Nina sagged back against the cot, staring at the ceiling. The doctor was one of them. Could she ever get out of here? Alive? Her cheek throbbed, but it was nothing compared to the sickness in her stomach. She wasn’t being cared for; she was being maintained, like property wanted intact. She won’t let them have her that easily. She sat up and thought.
• Moments after the sound of the revving engine faded, the door opened, and the guard walked in like a shadow given shape.