CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

ELLA

By the time we land a few hours later, I am dying of thirst and desperate to use the bathroom. Sneaking a glance at Daphne, I see that she is in even worse shape—her eyes are unfocused and feverish.

The swelling on her face has deepened into an ugly bruise, and her lips are dry and crusted with blood. With my wrists bound together, I can’t even reach over to offer her a reassuring touch.

As soon as the plane touches down, they unbuckle us and drag us out, our hands still cuffed in front of us. The leader approaches, giving us both a quick once-over before pointing toward a black SUV parked a few yards away.

He spits out an order at his men, and I can tell from his tone that our journey is far from over. Before they can shove us into the vehicle, I force myself to speak.

"Hey," I say, keeping my voice calm. "I need to use the restroom."

Daphne shoots me a panicked look, but I ignore her, keeping my eyes locked on the leader. I would rather drop dead than humiliate myself by wetting my hospital gown.

He hesitates for a second, scrutinizing me, then jerks his thumb toward the bushes. "Go, bitch," he snaps. "You have one minute."

I don’t waste a second. I rush toward the bushes, acutely aware of the armed man following closely behind me. Thankfully, he averts his gaze as I hike up my gown and squat, my cheeks burning with humiliation.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Daphne doing the same a dozen yards away. Once we’re both done, we’re shoved into another suffocatingly hot car. This ride is even longer, the road twisting through what looks like a dense jungle.

By the time we arrive at what appears to be a warehouse-like building—our final destination—my body is drenched in sweat, and I am badly dehydrated. Hunger gnaws at my stomach, but it is nothing compared to the unbearable thirst consuming me.

As soon as we enter the building, we are led toward two metal chairs positioned in a corner. The cuffs around my wrists are unlocked, but before I have a chance to savor even a moment of relief, the same man who had followed me to the bushes roughly pulls my arms behind my back and secures them once more.

Then, without hesitation, he ties my ankles to the chair—one to each leg—before wrapping a thick rope around my torso, anchoring me in place. His touch is devoid of emotion, cold and mechanical, as if I am nothing more than an object rather than a person.

Turning my head slightly, I see Daphne receiving the same treatment. However, her captor seems to take twisted pleasure in the task, yanking her legs apart with unnecessary force as he binds them to the chair.

She doesn’t utter a single sound, but her already pale face grows even whiter, and her cracked lips quiver ever so slightly.

Helpless fury burns in my chest as I watch, but I force myself to look away once the man steps back, shifting my focus to our surroundings instead.

It seems my initial impression was right. We’re inside a warehouse, its towering stacks of boxes and metal shelves creating a labyrinth in the center of the room.

Now that we’re restrained, the men lose interest in us, retreating to a long table in the opposite corner. Finally, Daphne and I have a brief moment alone.

Lowering my voice, I ask, “Are you okay? Did they hurt you? Before I came out, I mean…”

She presses her lips together, then shakes her head slightly. “Just roughed me up a little,” she mutters. “It’s nothing. You shouldn’t have come out, Ella. That was reckless.”

“They would’ve found me eventually. It was only a matter of time.” I’m certain of that. “Do you know who they are or what they want from us?”

“I don’t know for sure, but I can make an educated guess,” she says, her hands tightening into fists in her lap. “I think they’re part of that Jihadist terrorist group Lucifer warned me about a couple of months ago.

Apparently, they were furious when he refused to sell them some new weapon his company developed.”

“Why wouldn’t he sell it?” I ask, curiosity piqued.

She lifts a shoulder in a small shrug. “Lucifer is extremely particular about his business associates. If he didn’t trust them, that would be reason enough.”

“So they took us as leverage?”

“That’s what I believe,” she says quietly. “At least, that’s why you’re here. Someone at the clinic must have been working for them because they knew exactly who you were—and what you meant to Lucifer.”

I had been asleep in one of the downstairs rooms when they found me. Without hesitation, they rushed straight to the second floor—to the room where you were left to starve. I believe they plan to use you as leverage to force Lucifer into handing over the weapon they want.”

I take a shaky breath. “I see.”

I can only imagine the brutal methods that men willing to massacre innocent civilians would use to “force Lucifer’s hand.”

Gruesome images of severed limbs and lifeless bodies flash through my mind. I shove them away with effort, refusing to let the rising panic consume me.

“It’s a good thing Lucifer wasn’t at the clinic when they arrived,” Daphne says, snapping me out of my dark thoughts. “They slaughtered everyone—every single one of Lucifer’s sixteen men stationed there to protect us.”

I swallow hard. “Sixteen men?”

She nods grimly. “They had insane firepower, and they brought at least thirty or forty men of their own. You didn’t see the worst of it because they came in from the back. The other staircase was a bloodbath—bodies stacked six feet high. And not just ours. They lost a lot of men too.”

I stare at her, struggling to steady my breathing. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

For them to willingly sacrifice so many of their own, whatever they’re after must be one hell of a weapon.

Would Lucifer give it to them to save us? Does he care enough about me and Daphne to make that trade?

I know he wants me—I know he’s concerned about my well-being on some level—but would he be willing to put my life above his business?

Of course, even if he does hand over the weapon, there’s no guarantee they’ll let us live.

I think about what he told me about Sarah’s death… about how she was executed as payback for some warehouse raid. In Lucifer’s world, every action has consequences. And those consequences are always brutal.

“Do you think he’ll come for us?” I ask Daphne quietly.

The irony isn’t lost on me. I now see Lucifer as my potential rescuer, my only hope. He’s no longer the one I need saving from.

Daphne looks at me, her pale face shadowed with uncertainty.

“He will,” she murmurs. “Lucifer will come for us. I just don’t know if it will matter by then.”