Chapter 78

Chapter 78
Heizel POV

I wanted—needed—this to be a nightmare. I wanted to wake up tangled in sheets, Matthew’s arm heavy around my waist, his warmth anchoring me to something safe and real. I wanted to believe that the pain, the fear, the darkness were just fragments of a bad dream that would dissolve the moment I opened my eyes.

Instead, ice-cold water slammed into my face.

The shock ripped the breath straight out of my lungs as my body convulsed violently, every nerve screaming in protest. The cold wasn’t just cold—it was vicious, biting into my skin, stealing warmth and control in one brutal instant. Water streamed down my hair and chest, soaking me through, leaving me gasping and shivering as reality crashed back into place.
A man stood over me, the empty bucket swinging lazily from his hand, his grin carved too deeply into his face. “Time for round two,” he said, his voice thick with anticipation.

Hands grabbed me again before I could gather myself, dragging me across the concrete floor. My strength was gone, burned out by pain and exhaustion, and the sound of chains followed me like a warning. They slammed me down onto a metal table, the cold surface biting immediately into my skin. My wrists were wrenched wide, cuffs snapping closed as metal dug into flesh, followed by my ankles. I was spread out and completely exposed, every instinct screaming as panic surged hot and fast through my chest.

Breathe, Heizel. Don’t let them see it.

I stared at the ceiling, blinking hard, forcing myself not to scream as my ribs protested with every shallow breath. That was when Darius stepped into my line of sight, his presence cutting through the haze like a blade.

His smile was almost fond.

“So, Bruce,” he said calmly, turning toward the camera. “Do you remember this one? Simple. Efficient. A classic, really.” He leaned closer, his face filling my vision, his voice dropping into something intimate and poisonous. “And if you think your daughter deserves mercy… well, you should have taught her obedience. Silence. You failed her.”

He straightened slowly. “Now it’s my turn.”

The towel came down over my face, and my heart slammed violently against my ribs. Panic exploded through me before I could stop it. I knew what was coming.

The first trickle of water hit, and my body betrayed me instantly. It wasn’t pain—it was confusion, terror, betrayal. Water slid into my nose and mouth, soaking the fabric, stealing air in cruel, measured thefts. I thrashed instinctively, chains rattling as my lungs burned and screamed for oxygen, but struggling only made it worse. Water flooded in faster, my chest tightening as panic clawed its way up my throat.

Laughter echoed around me—muffled, distorted, obscene.

Just hold on. Just hold on.

I thought of Matthew—his hands, his voice, the way the world seemed to narrow when he looked at me. Find me. Please.

When the water finally stopped, my body convulsed as I coughed violently, chest heaving as air tore back into my lungs like fire. The towel was ripped away, and I sucked in breath after breath, my throat raw, vision swimming, every inhale a battle.

Darius loomed over me, satisfaction written plainly on his face. “See?” he said lightly. “You’re still alive.”

Something inside me snapped.

Before fear could stop me, before sense intervened, I gathered what little strength I had left and spat directly into his face. The room froze instantly. The men fell silent, and even the camera seemed to hold its breath.

Darius stared at me as he slowly wiped his cheek. Then he smiled—not amused, but delighted.

“You’ve got fire,” he murmured. “I like that.”

He nodded once, and the towel came back down. My pulse spiked violently, dread crashing through me so hard it made my vision blur. “Let’s take our time this round,” he said.
The water poured harder this time, relentless and merciless, a crushing weight that erased everything but instinct. I fought wildly, body arching as chains bit deeper into skin, lungs screaming as darkness crowded the edges of my vision. My thoughts fractured—Matthew, air, please—until time dissolved into sensation and fear.

I didn’t know how long it lasted. Seconds felt like minutes. Minutes like forever.

When the water finally stopped again, I sobbed in breath, my body jerking uncontrollably as I sucked in air. Every inhale burned, every exhale shook, my entire body trembling with exhaustion and pain.

Darius leaned close, close enough that I could feel his breath against my skin. “Still defiant?” he asked softly.

I couldn’t answer. I didn’t need to.

Because beneath the terror, beneath the pain, one truth remained solid and unbreakable.

He could hurt me. He could try to break me.

But I would endure.
For Matthew.
For myself.

I would survive this.