Chapter 92 Untitled Chapter

Chapter 92 Untitled Chapter
The first thing Maya noticed was the dripping sound coming from somewhere behind her. 
It wasn’t the pain in her wrists that got her attention first. It wasn’t the ropes cutting into her skin, or the dried blood at the corner of her mouth. It was that steady, relentless drip that sounded every twelve seconds. 
She had counted it twice, then three times, then twenty, because counting kept her from thinking. Thinking made her chest tighten. Thinking made her picture Antonio slumped and not breathing. Thinking made her imagine all the things Victor could do next. 
So she counted instead. 
The red numbers on the far wall said twenty-three hours, twenty-one minutes, thirty-two seconds. They glowed in the dark like a threat. 
Victor wasn’t planning a quiet execution. He was planning a show, and he wanted an audience. He wanted Roberto to watch. That was the part that made her sick. 
Maya lifted her head carefully, and every muscle in her body protested. Her cheek was bruised and throbbing, and her ribs hurt every time she took a deep breath. But she forced herself to look around anyway. 
The warehouse hadn’t changed. There was still concrete under her feet, metal beams overhead, shipping containers pushed against the walls, and one rusted rolling door. There were three guards. Always three. She had counted them too many times to get it wrong. 
Antonio made a muffled sound beside her. 
Maya turned her head. His eye was swollen, almost shut, and his lip was split, but he was awake. That was good. She needed him awake. 
He caught her gaze, and she saw the question in it. 
She gave the smallest shake of her head. Not yet. 
He understood right away, and that was a relief. At least one thing was working the way it should. 
Footsteps echoed through the space. Heavy and unhurried. 
Every guard straightened immediately, and the whole warehouse seemed to go tense. 
Maya’s stomach twisted, because she already knew who it was. 
Victor walked in like he owned the air. He was tall, calm, dressed like he was heading into a business meeting instead of a kidnapping. His smile appeared before the rest of him did, and Maya hated it. 
Victor stopped directly in front of her and studied her for a long time without saying anything. Then he said,
“You’ve been counting.” 
Maya went still. 
Victor smiled wider. “Oh, don’t look so surprised.” His eyes swept the room. “The guards. The exits. The drip behind you.” His gaze came back to hers. “You always were observant.” 
She wanted to spit in his face, but the tape over her mouth stopped her. Maybe that was for the best. 
Victor crouched in front of her, and his expensive suit didn’t wrinkle. That annoyed her for no reason she could explain. 
“You know,” he said conversationally, “Roberto always did choose intelligent people.” 
Maya’s jaw tightened. 
Victor laughed softly. “That expression.” He tilted his head. “You hate me.” 
She glared at him. 
“Fair,” he said. 
Then, without warning, he ripped the tape from her mouth. Pain exploded across her skin, and Maya hissed through her teeth. 
Victor didn’t react.
 “Go ahead,” he said, and his smile sharpened. “Say it.” 
For one second she considered staying silent, but then she decided he wasn’t worth the effort. “I’d rather die.” 
Victor’s smile didn’t move. “Strong opening.” 
She wanted to hit him. Instead she glared hard. 
Victor stood slowly. “Interesting.” 
“There you go again,” she said, and her voice was sharp with venom. 
“Again?” 
“Everything is interesting to you,” she said. “People bleeding. People suffering. Families falling apart.” 
Victor listened patiently.
“You keep saying everything is interesting,” Maya said, and she swallowed hard. “You’re not interested. You’re entertained.” 
The warehouse went silent. Even the guards looked uncomfortable. 
Victor studied her for longer this time, and then he laughed. He actually laughed, and the sound echoed off the concrete. 
“That’s why Roberto keeps you around,” he said. 
Maya rolled her eyes. “Please.” 
“No, truly,” Victor said. He glanced toward Antonio and then back at her. “You’re one of the few people willing to say exactly what you’re thinking.” 
Antonio made another muffled noise. 
Victor sighed dramatically. “Right.” He walked toward Antonio’s chair, and Maya immediately tensed. 
Victor stopped beside the chair. “Still protective,” he said, and his gaze flicked back to Maya. “That’s admirable.” 
She hated how calm he sounded, like kidnapping people was just another normal day for him. 
Victor crouched beside Antonio and suddenly grabbed his jaw hard. 
Antonio flinched, and Maya’s heart lurched. 
“Don’t touch him.” She rasped.
Victor looked pleased. “There she is.” 
“Let him go.” 
“No,” Victor said, and his voice was casual, like they were talking about the weather. 
Maya wanted to scream, but she forced herself to breathe instead. Slow and controlled. 
Victor eventually released Antonio and looked up at the countdown clock. Twenty-three hours, fourteen minutes, twelve seconds. His smile returned. 
“Do you know what Roberto is doing right now?” he asked. 
Maya stayed silent. 
Victor didn’t care. “He isn’t moving.” 
Something flickered across her face before she could stop it, and Victor noticed immediately. 
“There,” he said, and he pointed. “That.” 
Maya’s stomach dropped, because he was right. A part of her had expected Roberto to charge in. A reckless part. The part that knew him. 
Victor folded his arms. “But he won’t.” He sounded almost proud. “He’s finally learning.” 
Maya stared at him. 
Victor’s eyes drifted to the clock, then toward the nearest container, then back. It was only for a second, one glance, and it would have meant nothing to anyone else. 
But Maya had spent hours learning this room, and that was the first time he had looked at that container. The blue one. Container seventeen. 
Her pulse jumped, because Victor never looked at anything without a reason. That was interesting. Very interesting. 
Victor turned back toward her. “I’m disappointed.” 
Maya blinked. “What?” 
“I expected Roberto to lose control,” he said, and his smile faded slightly. “Instead he’s thinking.” 
For the first time since he arrived, genuine irritation crossed his face. It was only for a second, but Maya saw it. 
And that changed everything, because suddenly she understood. Victor wasn’t winning as easily as he pretended. He was waiting. He was testing. He was pushing to provoke a mistake, and Roberto wasn’t giving him one. 
Victor’s attention shifted toward the far wall when a guard approached and whispered something. Victor nodded, and then he looked back at Maya. 
“We’ll continue this later.” 
“Oh good,” she said, and her voice dripped with a heavy sarcasm. “Something to look forward to.” 
Victor laughed again, then turned and walked away. The warehouse door slammed shut behind him, and silence returned. 
Maya waited and counted to fifty. Then she leaned toward Antonio as far as the ropes allowed. 
“Antonio.” 
His head lifted. “What?” 
She kept her voice barely above a whisper. “The blue container.” 
Anthonio frowned. “What?” 
“Container seventeen.” 
Confusion filled his face, so Maya looked toward the corner Victor had glanced at. Only once, but it had happened. Victor didn’t make accidental movements. 
“Remember it,” she said. 
Antonio stared, and then he slowly nodded.