Chapter Warning:⚠️
The following scene contains graphic sexual violence, non-consensual contact, physical brutality, and threats involving acid.
Please proceed only if you feel comfortable.
Rain's POV:
I wake up feeling… wrong.
Every muscle aches, like my body has weight but no strength.
My eyelids are glued shut, waxy and heavy, and when I try to pry them open the room tilts, spinning in sick, slow circles.
There are noises around me.
Laughter.
Low, distorted voices.
I force myself to listen, but everything feels muffled, like I'm underwater.
My head throbs.
Something is wrong.
Something is so wrong.
Before I can make sense of anything, a shock of freezing water hits me like a slap.
I jerk awake, gasping, choking on my own breath as my eyes finally snap open.
And that's when I feel it.
My wrists.
My ankles.
Pulled apart—stretched—tied down.
Leather biting into skin.
I'm tied to a wooden plank.
Arms and legs spread in four directions like I'm being displayed.
A tremor rips through me.
No, no, no—
What is happening?
What the hell is this?
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to piece together the last thing I remember.
Boston.
My bag.
The airport.
And then—
The realisation slams into me so hard I forget how to breathe.
I've been kidnapped.
It's happening.
Right now.
The danger Dane warned me about—
It's real.
A cold sweat prickles down my spine.
My fingers shake even though I can't move them.
I want to scream but my throat feels like it's closing up.
I try twisting my left hand out of the rope—slow, desperate, the burn of the fibers cutting into my skin—when I hear one of them speak.
A voice like gravel dragged across metal.
" Look who's awake…..she's even sexier with that wet hair sticking to her like that."
He steps into the light and I see him—
A burly barbarian of a man.
His shadow alone swallows the floor.
Laughter erupts around me.
Loud.
It spikes panic straight up my spine.
"Let me go," I whisper, the words barely formed.
No one reacts.
"LET ME GO!" I scream, the sound cracking in my raw throat.
Still nothing.
Just more laughter.
"Please," I choke out, my chest tightening. "Please, I don't know any of you. I haven't done anything. Just… please."
Silence drops like a blade.
Then they laugh again—harder this time.
Cruel.
Like my fear is a show they bought tickets for.
One man steps forward.
The tall one.
Dark hair falling over one side of his face,
Eyes that don't look human.
Eyes that study me the way a cunning predator watches an animal it's already trapped .
"But we…" he says, his gaze dragging down my body as if I'm naked.
"...do know that boyfriend of yours."
"He's not my boyfriend," I whisper, my voice shaking, eyes darting away from him.
He tuts softly, like he's amused by my attempt to distance myself.
His hand comes up and he grips my jaw hard enough to make my teeth chatter.
He turns my face toward him, forcing my eyes to meet his.
"Maybe not," he murmurs. "But we know you're important to him."
"Boys, look at this one," he says, brushing the sticky strands of wet hair off my face with a slow, mocking gentleness.
"Isn't she a pretty little thing ?"
Their cheers explode instantly.
Like a pack of animals circling something wounded.
I flinch at every sound.
I can't stop it.
My chest is tight, my breathing rapid, and suddenly there are tears spilling out of my eyes without permission.
I blink, but they keep coming.
My whole body trembles on the wooden plank, the ropes biting into my wrists and ankles as every breath turns into a gasp.
I try to speak—to reason, to beg, to say something but my voice refuses to come out.
He steps closer again, watching my tears like they're a spectacle.
But then he says it.
A question that makes every drop of blood inside me freeze.
That makes my sobs stop mid-breath.
And suddenly—
I am no longer crying.
Because whatever they were doing… whatever they were laughing at…
That question tells me it's about to get so much worse.
" Do we have fun together or does everyone get their turn ? "
His both hands grab my boobs and he bites the cloth covering them.
I can't stifle the disgust twisting inside me.
It crawls up my throat, hot and sharp, but the more I recoil, the more they drift closer—like sharks scenting blood.
This is not how it ends for me.
No.
No, they don't get to do this to me.
If I'm going down, I go down fighting.
My vision blurs with tears as I lower my head, pretending to fold in on myself.
Through the curtain of wet hair clinging to my face, I see , their sick excitement as they circle me like vultures around something they think is already dead.
He steps closer, boots thudding across the floor .
So his breath ghosts across my cheek.
Perfect.
I force one more sob—wet, shaky.
Then I launch.
My head snaps up and I sink my teeth into his cheek, biting down with every ounce of terror-fueled strength inside me.
Flesh tears under my jaw, the taste of blood metallic and hot. His scream rips through the room—raw and animalistic.
He shoves me back and the back of his hand cracks across my face.
The room spins.
The ropes dig deeper as my body jerks.
I feel something like victory spark in my chest.
I got him.
I hurt him.
His scream turns into a twisted laugh, blood dripping down his jaw as he wipes at the torn flesh.
"Well… well…" he snarls, voice thick with pain and delight.
"I love them feisty ."
He says, fingers lazily fondling my boobs.
The others erupt—cheering, whistling, pounding their fists against the walls like this is entertainment.
My heart is hammering so hard it hurts.
But I lift my head anyway.
And I stare at him through blurred eyes, panting, shaking, terrified
—and still refusing to give in.
" I bet hawk does her rough hahaha does he bitch ?" One of them asks.
Hawk?
What ?
" Tell me how does he like to take you ? We could use some pointers after all "
He leans in again, his face brushing my neck, inhaling me like I'm something he intends to taste.
My whole body trembles. I can't stop it. The shaking takes over—violent, uncontrollable, humiliating.
What's happening to me…?
Why am I here?
Where is this place?
Who are these men?
The questions whirl in my head, slamming into each other, but there are no answers—just their laughter, their boots scraping against the floor, the ropes cutting into my skin.
Every flinch, every plea, every tear—
it only fuels them.
Makes them louder.
So I force myself to go still.
I lift my chin and look straight into his eyes—cold, predatory, inhuman.
There's a flicker when he meets my gaze. A pause.
A realization.
That even if he toys with me, humiliates me, torments me…
he won't get the reaction he wants.
He won't get the fear he can feed on.
I see it hit him—that playing with prey that refuses to break… isn't nearly as satisfying.
For a moment, the room goes quiet.
Just his breath against my cheek.
Just my heart pounding like a trapped animal.
"You said you had some plans Caleb?" the dark-haired man calls out, voice dripping with mockery.
"I'll let you start first, since you're the one who brought this little doll here."
The room erupts in ugly laughter.
Caleb steps forward—the one with the crooked nose, the one who drove me.
My blood runs cold.
He moves slowly, savoring every second of my fear.
I'm already shaking before he even reaches me.
Come on, Rain. Breathe.
You can do this.
You just have to stay alive long enough to figure out how to get out of here.
And one thought keeps cutting through everything else:
I should've never left Danny's side.
If I'd stayed close to him…
If I hadn't tried to do this alone…
I wouldn't be here.
Caleb's shadow falls over me, and I swallow a sob, bracing myself for whatever comes next.
"Should I tell you my plans," Caleb drawls, tilting his head, "or should I show them?"
He isn't speaking to me.
He's performing for them.
The room erupts—snickers and whistles.
I study him, searching for any angle, any weakness.
Maybe I can head-butt him… maybe—
But I don't even get the chance.
His hand snaps up, clamping around my chin with brutal force.
My jaw is trapped between his fingers; I can't move it at all.
Pressure builds—sharp, crushing—like he could snap my teeth right out of my skull if he felt like it.
His breath hits my face—hot, sour, rotting—and my stomach lurches.
Caleb leans in, and then he kisses me .
A wave of nausea surges up my throat.
I feel like I might vomit.
My mind tries to pull away from my own body, to float somewhere far, far above this place where nothing hurts, where nothing touches me.
It's just flesh. It's just a body.
Detach, detach yourself.
But I'm terrified out of my mind.
He pulls a blade from his belt.
A long, narrow, wickedly sharp knife .
My throat tears open with a scream before I even think.
"No! No—NO! Please don't kill me! Please—please—please—"
The sound of my own voice barely reaches my ears over the rushing in my skull.
" Aw isn't she cute ? This is not to kill you "
and with that he slices the blade through my top ,which now hangs on my waist .
Their laughter erupts into howls—violent, delighted, feral.
The sound hits me like a physical blow.
Oh god.
Please.
Please—somebody—something—help me.
My mind is scrambling, skidding, slipping.
I can't think. I don't know what to do.
"Look at him," Caleb demands grabbing my chin and pointing it toward the dark-haired man by the wall.
His voice is almost playful. "Look at him while I do this to you… or I'm going to—"
He pauses.
He grins.
"Actually… someone bring me that bottle."
I hear footsteps.
A cap twisting open.
Then a splash.
A hiss.
The floor sizzles—burning, eating itself alive.
Acid.
A wave of cold rips through me so violently I almost faint.
The man tilts the bottle toward me with a smile, letting the fumes waft near my feet.
"Good girl. Eyes stay right there."
I force my gaze to the dark-haired man—the one who seems to be watching everything with predator calm.
Stay alive, Rain.
Stay.
Alive.
Life isn't done with you yet.
You still have to go home.
See Mom.
Travel.
Laugh with Natalia.
Annoy Matt.
You still have to eat next to Danny again—feel the world make sense for one second.
Remember their faces.
Remember your world.
Remember who you are.
What do smart people do?
What did Uncle teach you?
Bite the bullet.
Endure.
Endure until the moment you can break them back.
Then Caleb cutts of my bra.
They all whistle and make noises that scar me forever.
" I feel like we need to get hawk here and make him watch" the burly guy says.
So hawk is Danny ? Why do they call him hawk.
Caleb drags his fingers across my torso painfully slow and occasionally pinches my nipples.
I keep crying while I look at that man in distance.
Then he opens the button of my jeans and I can't take it .
I start thrashing, cursing him, but that just cheers him on.
I try to twist out of his grip, but he yanks me in and his teeth catch the side of my waist.
The bite is sharp, shocking, leaving a hot pulse of pain behind.
When he pulls back, there's a faint smear of red on his teeth, and something triumphant in his eyes that makes my whole body tense.
He puts his hand inside my pants through my underwear and rubs me there .
My eyes fall closed, shame washing over me—until the other man growls,
"Don't you dare. Open them. Unless you want acid in your face."
He pulls his hands out and sniffs it and I look away in disgust.
"She is...divine" he says rubbing his hand across the face.
Just when I feel myself slipping—vision tunneling, breath shaking—the dark-haired man lifts a hand.
"Enough," he says, bored. A wicked smirk stretches across his mouth.
Caleb freezes. The others fall silent.
"I'm bored. Let's cut the ropes."
A ripple of panic breaks through them.
"Boss, no—no, we deliver her to Stocciani's men tomorrow. We can't just let her go," one of them whines, the rest echoing like frightened children protecting a toy.
He laughs.
"It'll be fun. Cut the ropes."
A blade flashes, and the tension holding my limbs apart snaps.
My body drops like dead weight—I crumple to the floor, legs too weak to hold me.
Before I can even catch a breath, Caleb's fist twists into my hair.
Pain blooms across my scalp as he drags me across the cold floor and shoves me at the dark-haired man's boots.
I hit the ground hard.
He hauls me up by the shoulder and
then he flips me—turning my body so I face the others, forcing me to look at the circle of eyes waiting to tear into me again.
And roughly humps me from behind—
"You see how hard you make me " he whispers.
I cry out, thrashing, every muscle shaking as panic tears through me.
He pushes me toward the burly man, who grabs me with brutal hands and tosses me around like I'm nothing more than a rag doll he gets to play with, he rubs me through my pants , before he tosses me to Caleb .
Just when I think it's over—when their hands, their laughter, their breath circle in like a nightmare I can't wake from—
A gunshot explodes through the room.
Everything freezes.
For a split second, there's only ringing silence… and then the door detonates off its hinges, crashing to the floor in splinters.
Before I can even lift my head, the burly man drops.
A clean shot straight through his skull.
He collapses like a felled tree, blood pooling at my feet.
And in the doorway—
Dane.
But not the Dane I know.
Every monster in that room goes still.
Because a bigger monster has walked in.