Page 5 of Between Power and Passion

The scarred man turns his cruel eyes on me, his expression utterly devoid of mercy or remorse. "She was given a chance to persuade her husband to tell the truth. Now it's the girl's turn."

"No!" Papa bellows, his face ashen. "I've told you everything I know! Leave my children out of this!"

My heart sinks as he nods and one of the thugs grabs Katya, dragging her across the floor despite her frantic struggles. She kicks and screams, but her small frame is no match for the thug's strength. "Dmitri, help me!" she cries.

"No! Leave her alone, you bastards!" I shout, thrashing against my bonds.

The scarred man turns his gaze on me, a sadistic grin spreading across his face. "Maybe your father needs some... persuasion."

I pull against the ropes with all my strength, but it's no use.

"Tell us what we want to know!" the scarred man demands, his face twisted with glee. "You have one last chance, Ivanov. Where is the shipment?"

"I swear to you, I don't know anything about a shipment!" Papa's voice is filled with anguish. "Please, I'm begging you, don't hurt my little girl!"

For a moment, I think the scarred man might relent. Doubt flickers in his eyes. But then his expression hardens, and he shakes his head.

"The poor child."

A gunshot rings out, deafening in the small room. Katya's body jerks violently, and she collapses to the floor in a lifeless heap. A guttural scream tears from my throat as I thrash against my restraints, ignoring the pain.

"No! Katya!" I sob, tears blurring my vision. "Oh god, no..."

Papa's howls of anguish echo through the room. Even the thugs seem taken aback by the brutality they've inflicted.

The scarred man turns his gaze on Papa, his lips curling in contempt. "This is what happens when you lie to Sergei Makarov."

Before Papa can say another word, the man raises his gun and fires twice more. Papa's body jerks with the impact and slumps forward, blood pooling around him.

A scream builds in my throat, but it feels like all the air has been ripped from my lungs. I can only stare in numb disbelief at the broken, bleeding forms of my family as the room spins around me.

Chapter 3 - Valentina

I jolt awake, my body stiff and aching from being confined to this chair for who knows how long. My heart pounds frantically as I struggle against the ropes binding my wrists and ankles. The rough fibers bite into my skin with each frantic twist.

"Help!" I scream, my voice cracking with desperation. "Someone, please!"

Panic claws at my chest. A blindfold has robbed me of my sight, plunging me into complete darkness. I have no idea where I am or who has taken me. Flashes of the birthday party play through my mind—the lavish ballroom, my father's cruel announcement, the sickening realization that my life was never my own.

"Please," I beg into the void as my tears soak into the blindfold. "I haven't done anything wrong. Just let me go."

My pleas are met with deafening silence—until the creak of a door opening shatters the stillness. I stiffen, holding my breath as footsteps approach.

"Who's there?" I demand, my voice trembling. "If you want money, my father will pay whatever you ask. Just please, let me go."

The footsteps pause, and a deep chuckle resonates through the room, making me shiver.

"Money is the least of my concerns, Princess," a voice replies, the mocking endearment like sandpaper against my skin.

I hold my breath as a chair scrapes against the floor in front of me and I hear someone take a seat. My heart thunders in my ears, the suspense nearly suffocating me.

"What is my offense?" I demand, forcing strength into my voice despite the fear gripping me. "I haven't done anything wrong."

A weighted pause hangs between us before he speaks again, his tone laced with bitterness. "Neither did my family."

I freeze, the air catching in my lungs. That voice... no, it can't be. Dmitri is dead. Father told me himself after he went missing years ago. I grieved for the man I loved, my tears endless as I mourned his loss. This must be a cruel trick of my mind, conjuring his voice from the depths of my memories.

"If you want to kill me, then do it," I spit out, my words laced with venom. "My father won't bat an eye if I'm gone."

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