Chapter 18: Jayden Revenge

The sound of Chloe Sterling’s shoes scraping harshly against the concrete was the only thing she could focus on as two men dragged her violently through the narrow, unlit passageway of the simulated night city.

"Let go of me!" she shouted, twisting her body with every ounce of strength she had in an attempt to wrench her arm free. "Do you have any absolute idea who I am? My family will...!"

"Keep moving," the man holding her right arm snarled, tightening his grip until the bone felt like it was about to fracture.

"Get your hands off me!"

Driven by sheer adrenaline, Chloe jerked her elbow backward, catching the man behind her somewhere in the ribs.

He grunted, his grip loosening for a fraction of a second, and she instantly seized the opportunity to fling herself sideways. Her shoulder struck the damp brick wall with a dull, sickening thud, but the wave of pain was drowned out by survival instinct.

She pushed off the wall, desperately trying to sprint toward the open street.

She made it exactly three steps.

A heavy hand caught the back of her jacket, yanking her backward with such brutal force that her feet tangled beneath her and she crashed hard onto the pavement.

Before she could open her mouth to scream again, another man clamped a heavy, calloused hand tightly over her mouth, cutting off her breath.

"Keep fighting," a low, threatening voice muttered directly beside her ear, "and I’ll make sure you regret every choice that brought you to this academy."

Chloe didn’t hesitate. She bit down hard into the flesh of his palm.

The man cursed loudly, reflexively pulling his hand back and striking her across the cheek with the back of his hand. Her head snapped violently to the side, and for a moment, the narrow alleyway tilted sickeningly around her.

A metallic taste flooded her mouth as her teeth cut deep into the inside of her lip, drawing warm blood.

She stopped struggling, not out of submission, but because she forced her racing mind to clear. Panic was a luxury she couldn’t afford.

There were three of them.

The first man was tall, broad-shouldered, and wore a heavy black jacket with the hood pulled low over his forehead, concealing his features.

The second man walked with a noticeable, jerky limp, his darting eyes constantly glancing toward the main street as though paranoid that academy patrols or rival students might spot them.

The third man was the one holding her, he possessed an iron grip, a sour, stale odor of nervous sweat clinging to his clothes, and a distinct, cheap silver ring glinting on his right hand.

Chloe forced herself to lock every single detail into her memory.

The academy’s advanced simulated city had been engineered to mimic reality down to the smallest sensory detail. The cracked, uneven pavement beneath her shoes, the flickering, buzzing streetlights overhead, the distant mechanical hum of traffic, and the sharp stench of damp rubbish drifting from a rusted dumpster, everything felt terrifyingly authentic.

Yet, this wasn’t supposed to happen within the boundaries of normal competition.

The final admission exam explicitly permitted applicants to fight, steal, form strategic alliances, and betray one another. The rules were designed to be ruthless, and the administration made no secret of the fact that nobody would be coddled.

But kidnapping someone off the street and dragging them into an abandoned industrial pocket was a criminal escalation that crossed every administrative line.

"Where are you taking me?" Chloe demanded, her voice cutting through the quiet as they hauled her toward a rusted metal door.

Nobody answered.

She cast a desperate glance over her shoulder, scanning the empty street for a passing student or an autonomous academy surveillance drone.

The thoroughfare behind them was dead. A damaged commercial billboard buzzed overhead, its blue neon light flashing erratically, while a distant, mournful siren wailed somewhere beyond the concrete skyline.

"Help!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, ignoring the grip on her arm. "Someone help me!"

The broad-shouldered leader looked back, his eyes flashing with irritation. "Shut her up."

Before she could shout again, the man with the silver ring hauled her through a narrow doorway, kicking it open with his boot.

Chloe’s heels struck the metal threshold with a sharp clank, and she stumbled clumsily into total darkness as the heavy door slammed shut behind them.

For a few suffocating seconds, the only sound in the room was the ragged rhythm of her own breathing.

Then came the mechanical sound of a heavy deadbolt turning.

Click.

The man with the silver ring finally released her arm. Chloe immediately staggered backward, putting as much physical distance between them as the cramped, suffocating room allowed.

It appeared to be an abandoned storage facility. A broken fluorescent tube hung precariously from the water-damaged ceiling, emitting an irregular, irritating electrical hum that grated on the nerves.

Stacks of rotting wooden crates lined the walls, and a rusted metal shelving unit leaned dangerously in the far corner. The air was thick with choking dust, damp concrete, and old machine oil.

A single, grime-covered door stood shut at the opposite end of the room.

Chloe looked from the door back to the three men standing between her and freedom.

"If this is about money," Chloe said, her voice steady despite the trembling of her hands, "you should know that kidnapping me is the single stupidest mistake you could possibly make."

The limping man let out a short, mocking laugh. "Listen to her. She’s still threatening us."

"Of course I am," Chloe snapped, lifting her chin. "My family’s corporate network will hunt you down. The academy tribunal will expel you permanently. And when they’re done with you, you’ll wish you had never been born."

The broad-headed leader stepped forward, his expression carved in stone. "Your family isn’t here, sweetheart."

Chloe’s jaw tightened. "Neither is yours, apparently. Otherwise, someone might have taught you basic human decency."

The man with the silver ring chuckled under his breath, though his amusement vanished instantly when the leader shot him a warning glare.

"Enough," the leader commanded, turning his cold eyes back to Chloe. "You are going to sit down, keep your mouth shut, and wait for our employer to arrive. If you cooperate, nobody has to get hurt."

"And if I don’t?" she challenged.

He stared at her for a long, heavy moment. "Then you’ll make things unnecessarily difficult for yourself."

Without another word, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a length of heavy-duty plastic flex-cuff restraint.

Chloe’s eyes dropped to the zip-tie, and every muscle in her body locked up. "No."

"Sit down."

"Don’t you dare touch me!"

She lunged forward, throwing a furious, straight punch. Her knuckles connected solidly with his jaw, snapping his head sharply to the side. The limping man swore, and the third thug lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Chloe’s waist before she could strike again.

A stack of wooden crates toppled from the shelving unit, crashing violently onto the concrete floor and kicking up a blinding cloud of dust.

"Get off me!" Chloe screamed, kicking backward and catching someone squarely in the shin.

"Hold her still, you idiots!"

A hand clamped around her right wrist. Another seized her left arm. Chloe twisted, shoved, and fought with every ounce of adrenaline left in her veins, but the sheer weight of three grown men in a cramped space gave her nowhere to maneuver.

They forced her violently down into an old wooden chair.

The metal legs scraped across the concrete with an awful, drawn-out screech.

"Stop moving!" the leader barked, pressing his weight against her shoulder.

"Go to hell!"

Zip.

The plastic restraint snapped tightly around her right wrist, biting mercilessly into her skin. A second later, her left wrist was bound behind the backrest.

They secured her ankles next, fastening them tightly to the chair legs. When she tried to throw her weight to the side, the chair tipped dangerously before one of the men shoved it upright.

Her breathing came in short, ragged gasps of fury.

The broad-headed leader crouched down until his face was inches from hers. "Listen to me very carefully. You stay right here until our employer arrives. No screaming, no struggling, no clever tricks or I’ll fuck you."

Chloe glared at him, her eyes burning with contempt. "Who hired you?"

He stood up slowly, brushing dust from his knees. "Someone who despises your boyfriend."

The room went entirely still.

For the first time since they had ambushed her in the alley, a chilling wave of realization settled deep in Chloe’s stomach.

"Morales?" she whispered.

The man didn’t answer, but his smug, knowing smile confirmed everything.

Chloe’s fingers curled uselessly against the tight plastic restraints. She had known from the moment she met Morales that he operated in a world far more dangerous than ordinary school politics.

Everyone who spent time around him understood that he attracted enemies, walked a razor’s edge, and acted with terrifying confidence.

But it had never occurred to her that someone would sink so low as to use her as bait just to reach him.

"You’re making a massive mistake," she said quietly.

"Maybe."

He signaled to the other two men. "Keep an eye on her. I’m going outside to make the call."

As he walked away, the heavy metal door swung shut, followed instantly by the sickening, metallic sound of the deadbolt turning.

Click.

___________

Morales felt the sharp, persistent vibration of his phone against his palm.

He pulled the device from his coat pocket and looked down at the screen. He had already memorized every single pixel of the notification, but his eyes tracked the words again with cold precision.

The attached high-definition photograph showed Chloe tied helplessly to a wooden chair in a dark, damp concrete room. A faint, angry red mark stained her cheek, and her hair fell messily across her face.

Beneath the image was the concise, arrogant demand:

Your little Sterling pet was far too careless tonight. If you ever want to see her intact again, bring fifty million $AC in unmarked digital bearer bonds to the abandoned water treatment plant in Sector 4 within thirty minutes. No academy security. Sort it out yourself... or she becomes public property.

Morales stared at the final sentence. His thumb pressed so hard against the edge of the glass screen that his knuckles turned completely white.

For several heartbeats, the ambient sounds of the city, the distant hum of traffic, the whistle of the wind through the concrete skeletons of unfinished buildings, faded entirely into the background, drowned out by the heavy, rhythmic pounding of blood in his ears.

Someone had laid hands on Chloe.

Someone had bound her like an animal, photographed her degradation, and assumed they could treat her as leverage against him. They had calculated that he would panic, lose his composure, and run blindly into a trap.

He lifted his head. ’Is this Jeremy’s doing.’ He thought.

Sophia Laurent stood a few paces away, watching him with an expression of sharp concern. She had finished adjusting her attire, but the arrogant, playful demeanor she had carried earlier had vanished entirely.

"Morales?" she asked softly.

He slipped the phone back into his pocket, his face locked in an expression of absolute, terrifying frost and then gathered the fake credit cards of the guy with the help of Sophia . "I need to leave."

"What happened?"

"Something that requires my immediate attention."

"That doesn’t answer my question."

Morales turned on his heel and started walking toward the main thoroughfare.

Sophia immediately matched his stride, falling in beside him. "Morales. Stop."

He didn’t slow down. "Go home, Sophia."

Her eyebrows drew together in a sharp frown.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Head back to your secure zone or your apartment. I’ll deal with Jayden and handle this mess myself."

The name made her expression harden instantly. "Jayden did this?"

"I don’t have time to explain every detail right now."

"Then I’m coming with you."

"No."

"That wasn’t a request for permission."

Morales stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face her, his eyes flashing with irritation. "Sophia, this isn’t a game or a corporate squabble. Someone has been kidnapped. Jayden has men waiting in Sector Four. You have no business walking into that trap."

"But if it’s with you then I’ll risk it."

Morales opened his mouth to argue, but caught himself. He looked at the fierce determination burning in her blue eyes and realized arguing with her would only waste precious minutes. If he left her behind, she was stubborn enough to trail him anyway, turning a rescue operation into a two-front disaster.

"Fine," he muttered at last.

Sophia’s posture relaxed slightly, though her guard remained up. "Fine?"

"You’re coming with me." It’s like the feeling of rescuing someone satisfies her since she was beaming like a child who was just given a Christmas gift.

"Don’t celebrate yet," Morales warned, his voice dropping into a chilling register. "If you come, you follow my exact instructions. You stay behind me. You don’t pick fights, you don’t try to play hero, and you obey the second I tell you to move."

Sophia tilted her head, a faint trace of her usual dry sarcasm returning. "Do you always talk to women like that and besides what’s with the cards?"

"Only when they insist on tagging along to a hostage extraction." He said and continued. "I’m hacking the cards."

Sophia followed him closely, tying her blouse as she ran to keep up. "Hacking them? With what terminal? Do you even have a military-grade laptop or a syndicate decryption rig?"

"Neither," Morales snapped over his shoulder, his strides long and purposeful. "Trust me, stop asking stupid questions, and keep up. We have a rescue mission to complete."

Inside the damp, decaying storage facility, Jayden stood over Chloe with a slow, thin smile stretched across his face.

"Still waiting for your hero?" he mocked, leaning against the edge of a dusty crate.

Chloe raised her chin, her voice dripping with disdain. "Can’t believe you are the person who hired them to kidnap me."

Jayden’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second. He pulled up an old metal chair, dragging it across the floor before sitting down directly in front of her. His eyes narrowed as he studied her face.

"Tell me something, Chloe. How much do you actually know about Morales Brown?"

"What does that have to do with you dragging me here?"

Jayden’s jaw tightened so hard a muscle twitched in his cheek. He stood up abruptly, kicking the empty chair away with a loud crash. "Every time he walks into a room, all eyes are on him! And every time I try to establish my own syndicate, there he is, standing in my way like an immovable wall. I hate him for it."

She let out a dismissive laugh, "you’re pathetic Jayden is this all about your fragile ego."

He crouched down, bringing his face dangerously close to hers. "That’s why you’re here, Chloe. I want him to experience total, helpless ruin for taking her away from me ."