Chapter 93 Chapter 93. Three Days to Choose
Her arms hung limply at her sides, twisted outward at an unnatural angle, slack as if they had long since lost all strength. After what felt like an eternity, Faye finally looked straight into the lens. In the depths of her despairing eyes, a faint spark suddenly flared—as if she were seeing the one she loved standing before her, about to pull her out of hell.
"Zephyr! I’m in so much pain…"
"Save me…"
Her hoarse, torn voice came through the phone’s speaker, each word like shards of glass slicing straight into his ears. Zephyr’s throat tightened, the veins on his forehead throbbing violently.
"Zephyr, do you have any other toys you still care about?"
Zephyr stared at the words on the screen, his pupils contracting slightly. The veins on his forehead stood out, his pulse pounding hard at his neck.
"Let her go!"
Lysander: "Then bring Zoria to me and trade her for Faye. Between Faye and Zoria, you only get to choose one. There’s no such thing as getting two birds with one stone. Hand Zoria over to me, and I’ll tell you where Faye is. Otherwise, you can go to hell and see Faye for yourself."
Zephyr’s heart jolted painfully, the agony spreading through his entire body until even his fingertips trembled. He clenched his hands to force the shaking down, then slumped weakly onto the sofa.
"I’ll give you three days. Three days from now, I want your answer." After sending the message, Lysander turned and walked toward the tightly locked door. He took out the key and opened it. A thick, metallic stench of blood rushed straight at him.
The room beyond was pitch-dark, not a trace of light in sight. Lysander ran his hand along the wall and flicked the switch. The lights snapped on, flooding the room with brightness. A soft rustling sound came from the corner. With both hands in his pockets, Lysander strolled forward unhurriedly.
Faye was curled up in the corner, her body shaking violently, her eyes filled with terror. The moment she saw Lysander approaching, she lowered her head even further.
Lysander seemed to be in an excellent mood. He bent down, stopping right in front of Faye, and reached out to lift her chin. Their eyes met, his golden pupils brimming with malice and a sinister gleam.
"I’ve already told Zephyr. Do you think he’ll come to save you?"
Faye nodded frantically, panic written all over her face. "He will. He’ll definitely come save me!"
Lysander chuckled softly. "After all, we’re partners now. So why are you still so afraid of me?"
The fear in Faye’s eyes was impossible to hide. The male standing before her was a vicious beast in sheep’s clothing. She had thought it was all just an act, never imagining he would turn the performance into reality. Lysander had tied her up here, broken her arm, and slashed her body until it was covered in wounds. None of them were fatal, but the pain came in relentless waves that stole her breath. If she did not receive treatment in time, scars would inevitably be left behind.
Lysander squatted down, pulled a tissue from his pocket, and slowly wiped the dirt from Faye’s face.
"But it’s right for you to be afraid of me. The more scared you are, the easier it is for Zephyr to believe it. Even if I don’t get the chance to see that panicked, unhinged look on his face with my own eyes, just imagining it already makes me happy."
If he could see Zephyr lose control, that would be the ultimate pleasure for Lysander. He let out a low laugh, staring at Faye’s deathly pale face, drained of all color, his eyes brimming with icy malice.
"Hold on for three more days. If Zephyr doesn’t choose you, then you’ll come with me."
Faye shuddered and instinctively retreated, but her back was already pressed against the freezing wall. There was nowhere left to go.
She truly regretted it—regretted that moment of impulsiveness when she chose to trust Lysander. At the same time, hatred burned fiercely within her, and all of it was directed at Zoria.
If Zoria had never appeared, Zephyr would not have abandoned her. She would not have gone to that bar to drink, would not have met Michael and had sex with him in a moment of madness, and she certainly would not have fallen into Lysander’s hands, been forced into cooperation, and endured his endless torment.
It was all Zoria’s fault.
She only wished that Lysander would capture Zoria and inflict on her pain a hundred times worse than what she had suffered.
Lysander seemed to see straight through Faye’s thoughts. The curve of his lips, already lifted, rose even higher, his smile turning ever more cruel. Since Zoria was determined to sever the bond with Zephyr, he would give her a little help. He only hoped she knew how to seize the opportunity and would not disappoint him.
Zephyr sat motionless on the sofa for a long time. Only after a while did he lift his head and look toward Zoria’s room. The light inside was already off—she must have fallen asleep. He withdrew his gaze, his hand gripping the phone growing stiff. Faye’s hoarse cries for help still echoed in his ears.
To him, Faye was the one he had to protect above all else. He owed her too much—from the vows he once made to the promises he ultimately broke. And now, because of him, Lysander had kidnapped and tortured her. He did not dare watch the video a second time. He was afraid he would lose control and smash the phone to pieces.
Leaning back, his eyes darkened, Zephyr slowly lit a cigarette. He lowered his head and took a light drag. The harsh bite of nicotine filled his mouth, numbing his thoughts. His face was shrouded in pale blue smoke, heavy and cold, drawn tight with tension.
……
Early the next morning.
Just as dawn was breaking, Zoria was awakened by the sound of a dog barking. She rubbed her eyes and opened them hazily, then instantly snapped fully awake when she saw what was pressing down on her.
Hamburger was sprawled on top of Zoria, tilting its head and barking excitedly with its tongue hanging out. Zoria reached up to pat its head. Overjoyed, Hamburger lunged forward and started licking her face all over.