Chapter 279: Daisy

"Amelie!"

I frantically ended the call and, before the heavy door could swing open, deleted the number from the call history. Then I tossed the phone toward the middle of the room.

"You little bitch! You stole my fucking phone!"

The man stormed inside like a demon unleashed from hell and immediately lunged at me.

Pain exploded through my shoulder as he grabbed me with bruising force and began shaking me violently. His eyes blazed with such unrestrained fury that the blood vessels in them seemed ready to burst. His expression was positively demonic.

"You fucking psychopath!" I screamed, spitting the words straight into his contorted face.

I caught his wrist and dug my nails into his skin with all the strength I could muster. I didn’t care if I broke every single one of them against his rough flesh.

"You were the one jumping around and thrashing about like a lunatic! You dropped it yourself, and now you’re blaming me?! Maybe you should learn to take better care of your belongings! Didn’t your mother ever teach you that?"

He roughly shoved my hand away, then frantically scanned the dark room. His gaze landed on the phone.

He snatched it off the floor and immediately checked the screen. His expression darkened when he noticed the shattered glass. Then he turned on me, glaring as though I’d personally committed some unforgivable crime.

"Listen carefully, you little bitch. If I find out you’ve stolen my phone and called someone, I’ll fucking strangle you with my bare hands. My associate will be here shortly."

He unlocked the screen and began scrolling through it, his brows drawing together in concentration. Then he bared his teeth in a vicious grin and shot me another murderous look.

"And if I check the call history and discover you’ve contacted anyone, only to delete the number afterward, I’ll peel your fucking skin off while you’re still breathing. You hear me? And don’t think for a second that money will save you. I just found out your blood type is in high demand. Apparently, every last one of your organs would fetch a pretty price on the black market."

Without another word, he stormed out of the cramped room, slamming the heavy door behind him.

I remained curled against the wall, my arm stretched awkwardly out of its handcuff, my entire body trembling with uncontrollable fear.

I’d made the call. Goddess help me, I’d actually managed to call him.

But if that bastard checked the call history, everything would be over. And once he found out who I’d contacted, there would be no telling what he’d do.

I spent the next several hours sitting in that miserable room, desperately praying for one thing: that Damian would somehow find me.

Perhaps, with his connections and resources, he could pull off the impossible. Perhaps he could reach me before it was too late.

I eventually folded forward, resting my filthy face against my knees, and let out a miserable sob.

We weren’t living in some glamorous spy thriller, where everything could be solved with a few taps on a phone screen.

This was real life. A cruel, unforgiving reality that, as it turned out, had no intention of giving me a happy ending.

For hours, he’d dragged my soul through hell, mercilessly stripping away every last shred of hope and leaving nothing but fear and despair in its place. I’d risked absolutely everything for one brief phone call, and now the sword of retribution was hanging over my head.

The cold inside the cell had become unbearable. I blew against my pale, trembling hands, trying desperately to warm them, but it was useless. The temperature was so low that every breath escaped my lips in a little cloud of white mist.

Still, at least it gave me something else to focus on besides the terrifying thoughts circling endlessly through my mind. I even managed to drift into a shallow, restless sleep, resting my head against the wall.

Unfortunately, it didn’t last.

The deafening crash of the metal door slamming against the wall jolted me awake. Disoriented and terrified, I jerked upright, my eyes flying toward the entrance.

For one suspended moment, everything seemed to move in slow motion. I watched as my world shattered all over again.

"You bitch! I fucking knew it was you! You’re a little thief! Who the hell did you call?!"

The bastard seized me by the hair, gripping so tightly that my scalp burned. The dried blood at the back of my head made my hair stick together, but he didn’t care. He yanked my head backward, forcing me to look directly into his furious, bloodshot eyes.

"Don’t touch me, you bastard!"

Summoning every last ounce of strength I had, I swung my free hand toward his face and managed to catch his cheek with my nails. I struggled violently, then drove my fingernails across the bridge of his nose.

A thin red line appeared, quickly followed by several more.

"You little bitch! I’ll teach you to call me names!"

He wiped the blood from his nose, then gave me a horrifying smile, his teeth stained red.

Staring into those bloodshot, crazed eyes, I knew I was probably saying goodbye to my life. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. Not when I’d spent so many years dreaming of something entirely different.

All I could think about was the little white daisy a boy had once pressed into my hand. The boy who had been nothing more than a lonely child, and me, who had been just as alone.

I remembered his sincere promises. His warm whispers in the darkness, the quiet certainty in his voice when he told me we’d always be together.

I remembered the freedom he’d promised me.

And the future we’d sworn to share.

My throat tightened painfully. My vision blurred beneath the harsh, glaring lights, and I desperately wished for just one thing: not to feel his filthy hands on my body.

Never again.

I’d rather die first...

"She won’t remember you, you filthy bastard."

It was as though my greatest wish had suddenly come true.

My heart stopped. Otherwise, how could Damian possibly be standing there?

But the pain from the brutal grip on the back of my head was far too real to be a dream.

I blinked, and my gaze met the Alpha’s dark eyes. He stood behind my captor like a silent shadow, his expression terrifyingly calm. In the sudden silence, I heard the unmistakable metallic click of a safety being released.

"Close your eyes, little bird."

And I trusted him. I closed them.

The stranger’s hand instantly disappeared from my head. Judging by the heavy, frantic footsteps, my captor had suddenly decided that getting out of the room was a very good idea.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Then came the deafening crack of a gunshot.

Strong, warm arms wrapped around me, pulling me firmly against a powerful chest. A familiar scent enveloped me, washing away the stench of cigarettes, stale liquor, and fear.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, I felt safe.

I was finally safe.