Chapter 144
Eva shook her head and said, "Sorry, I can't, but I'm sure someone else can."
The leader sighed, sounding helpless as he said, "Looks like we have no choice, Ms. Lorraine. Since you can't generate the emotions we need on your own, maybe we can help you experience some different feelings?"
His words started to sound vague and dangerous, "I mean, you've been with Vitale all this time, and I'm sure you enjoy his care. But there are all kinds of men in this world, and they feel very different."
He paused on purpose, his gaze meaningfully sweeping over Aldo, who was already restless, and another man with greedy eyes, "Maybe you should feel what it's like to be touched by other men? Experience something different from Vitale?"
"What do you think? It might give you some new inspiration, make your performance later more real."
"No!" Isabella screamed, her body shaking violently as she tried to shrink deeper into the chair, "No, I don't like this. You can't do this. You promised you wouldn't really hurt me!"
The leader looked at her terrified expression but slowly shook his head, "Sorry, Ms. Lorraine. I can't call the shots anymore. You see, my friends are very interested in you, and their emotions need to be calmed, too."
"Of course, I've set some ground rules for them." He held up one finger, "First, they can't kill you. You're only valuable alive."
He raised a second finger, "Second, no finishing inside. That would drive Vitale completely insane, and that's no good for us."
"That's the least I can do. You understand, right?"
With that, he didn't look at Isabella again and walked out.
In the room, only Isabella remained, along with three men whose eyes burned with raw desire.
Aldo, the silent one with a sleazy gaze, and the man who had been adjusting equipment, now put down his tools and joined in.
Eva stayed leaning against the wall, her face blank, as if whatever was about to happen had nothing to do with her. She was just a cold bystander.
"Please... don't..." Isabella's pleas were broken and weak, tears streaming down her face like a flood.
But her cries only brought a twisted grin to Aldo's face, "Did you hear that? The boss said as long as we don't kill her or finish inside, it's fine. What are you waiting for?"
A rough, dirty hand reached out first, grabbing the thin fabric of Isabella's bra and squeezing her breast hard!
"Let go of me! You animal!" Isabella screamed in pain, twisting her body desperately, her legs kicking wildly.
Another man took the chance to pin down her flailing legs, while the third man leaned in, his mouth reeking of tobacco as he tried to force a kiss on her lips.
"Get off me! Don't touch me!" Isabella struggled like a madwoman, slamming her head into the jaw of the man leaning in.
"Damn it!" The man cursed in pain, then, humiliated and angry, raised his fist and punched Isabella hard in the face!
The sharp pain and dizziness from the blow swallowed Isabella's consciousness, drowning out some of the curses and chaos around her.
At the same time, Vitale realized Isabella was gone.
Panic hit him like a tidal wave, overwhelming him instantly.
He rushed out the door, shouting at every servant and subordinate he saw.
No one had seen Isabella leave the master bedroom.
Checking the castle's internal surveillance, he saw her leaving the room alone in the morning, wandering through the maze-like corridors, and finally heading out a side door toward the dock.
The dock footage showed her walking to a docked speedboat, talking briefly with the people on board, then getting on the boat with them. The boat sailed away from the dock, disappearing into the mist over the lake.
Vitale's blood seemed to freeze in that moment.
He frantically dialed Isabella's phone, over and over.
All he got was the cold, mechanical sound of her phone being turned off.
Vitale activated the tracking program he had secretly installed on her phone, but the signal was gone, like a stone sinking into the ocean.
Time ticked by, each second feeling like a dull knife slicing into Vitale's heart.
Holding the video footage, he walked step by step toward the basement deep within the castle.
The air in the basement was thick and suffocating, filled with the stench of blood, sweat, and despair.
Several captured members were chained to torture racks, their bodies covered in fresh and old wounds, their minds on the verge of collapse.
Vitale stood in front of them, playing the surveillance footage over and over, "Do you know them?"
At first, the prisoners shook their heads, their eyes darting nervously.
Vitale handed the tablet to Victor beside him, then rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, stained with someone's blood.
What happened next was so fast it was dizzying, yet so brutal it sent chills down the spine of everyone watching.
When he stopped, the prisoner's eyes were unfocused, unable to even groan.
Vitale turned on a faucet, slowly washing the blood off his hands.
The cold water rinsed away the bright red, turning it into pale red sewage that flowed into the drain.
Then, he shook the water off his hands and walked back to the group of terrified prisoners.
There was no blood on Vitale's hands anymore, but the strong smell of blood and the icy killing intent in his eyes were more terrifying than any stain.
He pulled out a gleaming dagger and lightly pressed the sharp tip against one man's eyelid, "I'll ask again. Do you know the people in the video? If you lie..."
He pressed a little harder, the tip breaking the skin, a bead of blood seeping out and sliding down the thug's pale cheek, "When I catch them, I'll find you, your families, your friends, every single one of you. I won't kill you. I'll throw you alive into that abandoned slaughterhouse in the West District, strip you naked, smear you with honey and rotting meat, then open the cages and let the starving vultures and wild dogs gathered there enjoy you slowly."
"I promise you, this process will last for days, until you're gnawed down to bones, still conscious to feel every bite."
The scene Vitale described was so vivid, so horrifying, and paired with his emotionless tone, it finally broke the last of these desperate men's defenses.
"I know them! We know them!" The man with the knife at his eye broke down first, sobbing, "It's the Thorn of Justice people! The leader is Marcus Schmidt! The woman is Eva! And there's Aldo and a few others! I know them! Please! Don't feed me to the vultures! Just give me a quick death!"
The others started wailing too, all talking over each other to confirm, begging for mercy, just wanting a fast end.
Vitale slowly moved the dagger away. "Do you know where they took Isabella?"
The prisoner weakly lifted his head, looking into the destructive darkness in Vitale's eyes. He did not doubt that if he said one wrong word, the dagger would pierce his throat in the next second.
He swallowed hard and rasped, "I don't know the exact place. Marcus is very careful and never says."
Seeing Vitale's gaze turn terrifyingly dark, he quickly added, "But I think they won't hurt Ms. Lorraine. They kidnapped her to trade for us."
"Mr. Luca, we know how those guys think. They want a trade, not to kill the hostage. You have to believe us."
Vitale stared at him for a few seconds, then turned to the security heads who had been following behind, in charge of the castle's safety.
Their heads were bowed low, not daring to meet his eyes.
"My woman, right under your noses, on my turf, was taken by a bunch of strangers, and now, her whereabouts are unknown."
"You've disappointed me greatly."
Vitale didn't yell or order immediate punishment.
But this cold, suppressed disappointment was more terrifying than any rage.
"Twenty lashes each. Go take your punishment, then get out there and use every resource you have to find her. If there's even one more mistake..."
He didn't finish, but the unspoken threat made everyone break out in a cold sweat.
His men, relieved yet ashamed, quickly retreated.
In the basement, only Vitale, Victor, and the barely conscious prisoners remained.
Vitale walked to the wall, turning his back to everyone, and closed his eyes.
The dim light of the basement fell on his tense back, his broad shoulders trembling almost imperceptibly.
Uncontrollable, horrifying images flooded Vitale's mind.
Isabella's terrified eyes, her pale face, her bound body, a stranger's filthy hands...
His hands—hands that had taken countless lives, held a gun steady, and were stained with blood—were now clenched into fists at his sides. His knuckles cracked from the force, yet they still couldn't stop the faint trembling.