Chapter 86: The Trap

Clara walked nervously along the damp sidewalk of a nearly deserted street. The streetlights flickered intermittently, casting unsettling shadows that danced around her. She gripped her mobile phone tightly, checking it every few seconds to make sure there were no new messages. The address Alex Morán had sent her was displayed on the screen, and each step she took brought her closer to the meeting point.

She had hesitated to accept Alex’s proposal, but the promise of getting answers about her mother, Elena, was too tempting. The pieces of the puzzle she had been trying to piece together for years were still incomplete, and the possibility that Alex held the keys had convinced her, despite all the harm he had caused her.

Clara stopped in front of a dilapidated building. The windows were broken and covered with boards, and the front door barely hung from its hinges. She shuddered, wondering if she had made a mistake trusting him. But the image of her mother, injured and absent, gave her the strength to continue.

“Alex?” she called, her voice trembling slightly as she moved toward the dark interior.

A creaking sound from the wood answered her call, followed by footsteps approaching slowly. Alex appeared from the shadows, his tall, slender figure draped in a black jacket that made him seem even more imposing.

“Clara, I knew you would come,” he said with a crooked smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

Clara felt a chill run down her spine. Something in his gaze seemed different, colder, more calculating, but she tried to ignore it.

“Where is my mother?” she asked, her tone firm despite her growing nervousness.

Alex took a step toward her, raising his hands in an apparently calming gesture.

“Calm down, all in due time. I’ll take you to her, but first we need to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk to you. I just want to know where she is.”

Alex’s smile widened, but his expression remained unsettling.

“Always so impatient…” he murmured before stepping closer to Clara. She instinctively took a step back, but he was faster, grabbing her arm with force.

“What are you doing?” Clara exclaimed, trying to pull away.

“I’m sorry, Clara, but I can’t let you keep interfering. Your father and his team have already complicated things for me.”

Clara opened her mouth to scream, but Alex pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it against her face. The chemical smell quickly enveloped her, and her vision began to blur.

“No…” she murmured before falling unconscious into his arms.

Alex held her easily, lifting her as if she were a sack of flour. He looked around to make sure no one had seen them and exited through a side door that led to a dark alley. There, a black car with tinted windows waited with its engine running.

The driver, a burly man with a scar on his face, lowered the window.

“Did you manage it?” he asked in a rough voice.

“Of course,” Alex replied as he placed Clara in the back seat.

The door of the black car slammed shut. Alex adjusted Clara in the back seat, making sure her wrists were tightly bound, but without leaving visible marks. The driver, known as “Scar” for obvious reasons, gave an inquisitive glance through the rearview mirror.

“And now, boss?” he asked, starting the car and heading down a secluded road.

“Take her to the place we agreed on. Make sure no one follows us,” Alex ordered, lighting a cigarette with trembling hands.

Scar grunted but didn’t say anything. He knew questioning Alex at that moment was dangerous. The air inside the car was heavy, filled with a silent tension that made it hard to breathe.

Clara, still unconscious, breathed softly. Alex glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, his gaze mixing a strange combination of guilt and determination. All of this, he told himself, was necessary. It was the only way to finish what had started years ago.

Meanwhile, at the hospital, Vincent was in the hallway, leaning against the wall with his hands buried in his face. Elena had come out of surgery about three hours ago, and the doctors had not allowed anyone to see her.

At that moment, Martin appeared in a hurry, cellphone in hand and his face pale.

“Mr. Vincent, Marco just sent us this photograph where Alex Morán took Clara in a black car. He’s secretly following them, but he can’t confront them because there are too many and it would put his daughter at risk.”

The world seemed to stop. Vincent felt how rage and fear mixed in his chest like a volcano about to erupt.

“Alex? What the hell was she doing with that scum?” he growled, his voice heavy with anger.

Anthony clenched his fists.

“I knew that bastard hadn’t disappeared for good! What do we do?”

“Martin, gather the team. Locate Marco. I don’t care how many resources we have to use, I want to know where my daughter is right now,” Vincent ordered, his voice firm but tinged with anguish.

Anthony walked up to Vincent, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“I’ll go with you. I won’t let that bastard hurt Clara.”

Vincent nodded, clenching his jaw.

“But Elena…”

“She’s in good hands. Samuel is here and will stay to report any changes,” Anthony said with determination.

Vincent glanced toward Elena’s hospital room door, then shifted his gaze to Anthony.

“Alright. Let’s bring my daughter home.”

At the warehouse where they had taken Clara, Alex was speaking with a sinister-looking man dressed in an expensive suit. The man, known as “The Crow,” watched Clara with a cruel smile as she began to regain consciousness.

“Are you sure this will work, Morán?” The Crow asked, crossing his arms.

“Vincent will do anything for his family. If he has to choose between her and Elena, we can use it to our advantage.”

The Crow chuckled darkly.

“I hope you’re right. Because if this fails, your father will be the one to deliver our partners’ heads.”

Alex swallowed, but maintained his facade of confidence.

Clara opened her eyes slowly, her head throbbing with pain. She tried to move, but the restraints prevented her. Seeing Alex and the stranger, she felt a wave of panic.

“What… what are you doing?” she murmured, her voice trembling.

Alex crouched in front of her, trying to stay calm.

“Clara, I’m sorry. This is bigger than you think. If you follow the rules, everything will be fine.”

Clara looked at him in disbelief.

“Rules? You betrayed me! What did I do to deserve this?”

“It’s not personal,” Alex replied with a coldness that broke Clara inside. “It’s just necessary.”

The Crow interrupted, stepping forward with a knife in hand.

“Enough with the sentimentalism, Morán. It’s time to send a message to her dear father.”

Clara fought with all her strength as the shadow of the man with the knife loomed over her.