I wasn’t expecting to find her in this tortured state.
She’s being hauled across the room by Juan Carlos Barrera, the man we’ve come to annihilate, but when he notices Eaton’s gun pointed at his head, he releases his hold on her immediately.
A smile spreads across Chloe’s face as she falls onto a nearby sofa. It seems she is under the influence of some kind of narcotic.
“Chloe!” My voice cracks as Eaton steps forward with his gun still aimed at Barrera’s head. I make my way over to her, and she recoils away from my touch. “It’s me. Diego. We’re getting you out of here,” I tell her.
I watch as recognition slowly dawns on her face. I can see she’s struggling to determine if I’m real or a drug induced hallucination.
“Diego?” Her voice is a fragile whisper edged with pain. “You came?”
I grab a blanket from the sofa and gently wrap it around Chloe’s emaciated shoulders. She leans into the small comfort as her body shakes, and clutching the fabric, she murmurs, her voice raspy, “He hurt Serena. He was... cruel to her.”
The mention of Serena sends a fresh surge of protective fury through me. “Where is she? Is she here?”
“He raped her,” Chloe gasps, her eyes haunted. It’s a look I never want to see again.
“Who? This man here?” I question, needing information but knowing Chloe is struggling under the influence of the poison Barrera has injected into her.
“No, not him. It was Mr. Armstrong. I haven’t seen her since the night we were taken. He sold her. They called her ‘The Sister’.”
My head whips around to face Eaton, who’s standing behind me. “If my sister isn’t here, then where is she?” I demand.
“It seems my information was wrong. My informant must have mixed up the identities of Serena and her friend,” he responds.
I can tell Eaton is frustrated and angry. He wants to find Serena almost as much as I do. He wants to make amends for his father’s crimes. Plus, he doesn’t like the message her disappearance says about his family and its control over the underworld in Las Vegas.
While I’ve been talking to Eaton, two of our men have taken control of Barrera. Our prisoner has been bound to a chair, and his confident demeanor has dissolved into a quivering mess as he stares into Eaton's cold, vengeful eyes.
I’ve seen Eaton at work before and know he’s a master of his art. He and his men circle the prisoner, each one carrying an implement of torture—a length of chain, a pair of pliers, and a sharpened blade.
“Where is the other girl who was taken with Chloe?” Eaton demands.
One of the men takes his gun and whips it across Barrera’s face. The coward wets himself, and the damp patch spreads over the front of his pants.
Eaton and his men move with purpose.
The next blow comes swiftly—a savage strike that splits Barrera’s lip and sends blood cascading down his chin. In silence, Eaton and his men take turns inflicting their own brand of punishment. Their expressions are grim masks of determination as they unleash their pent-up fury on the man who has inflicted so much pain and suffering to others.
They strip away his power, piece by piece. His fingers are broken, joints dislocated, and his skin pierced and torn. Barrera’s screams echo off the walls, each cry a desperate plea for mercy that falls on Chloe’s sleeping ears and our deaf ones. His once formidable presence is dissolved into a broken shell.
It soon becomes abundantly clear that Barrera has nothing of use to tell us.
“Kill him,” I order, scooping Chloe up and gently holding her in my arms.
She’s fallen unconscious as a result of the drugs she’s been given, so she doesn’t struggle against me. I’m not sure she’s aware of anything anymore.
I know I need to get Chloe out of here and to the medical team we have on standby, but she’s safe in my arms for now, and before I leave with her, I want to see this monster die.
Eaton steps forward, and his voice is cold and steady. "This is for every woman you have abused and every life you have destroyed." He’s holding a knife in one hand, and as he speaks he kneels down beside Barrera. "Your reign of terror ends here," he growls, and with a swift, decisive motion, Eaton delivers the final blow.
The knife pierces Barrera’s chest, finding its mark with a sickening crunch of bone and tissue. His body convulses in agony while blood from his wounds pools around his body, staining the white carpet beneath him. A final, guttural cry escapes his lips, and he falls silent forever
“We’ll use his remains to send a message,” Eaton orders. “Cut off his genitalia and stuff them in his mouth before removing his head. Take photos and send them to everyone my father dealt with, warning them that this is what will happen to them unless Serena Rodriquez is returned to us.”
Eaton nods at me, and with Chloe still in my arms, we make our way out of the building. Once outside, I hand her to the waiting medical team, and they set about checking her.
Eaton steps forward, accompanied by the elderly woman we saw earlier.