Chapter 45 THE MAN IN THE HOLDING CELL
“I think you should know something first, boss,” Marco had begun to say as they moved deeper into the old wine cellar, almost at their destination.
Marco was a little bit hesitant to deliver the news of the man's identity before Rafael got to see who he was.
Finally, they got to the end of the cellar where he was being held. His hands were bound in chains that stretched up to the ceiling. His shirt and inner chest wears had all been stripped off and the only dignity maintained for him was to keep him padded in his trousers.
His face had been battered and bruised mercilessly due to the countless blows and rims edged at him to force out an appropriate confession out of him about Vanessa's whereabouts.
After all, he had been caught snooping around the base of the tunnel that was directly linked to the Devereaux mansion's kitchen and the wild assumption was that he knew something about Vanessa's disappearance— perhaps, he had helped her plot an escape.
“It's Luke, boss.” Marco eventually declared, revealing the identity of the man Rafael was about to meet— the one who had seemingly betrayed the boss.
Rafael's eyes glinted a little, the shock of Luke being the one behind the plot a little surreal to him. He had been in the plot to aid Vanessa's escape from him allegedly and this was surprising to him a little bit, but he had always been prepared for similar crazy plots like this.
Not everyone of his men could be trusted fully, but he had high hopes for some of them especially those sworn in the Devereaux blood— his men like Marco who he considered to be not just one of his men, but a loyal friend.
Only Marco had this excellent exception, only him had earned such a title from Santiano Rafael Devereaux.
Rafael wanted to make the interrogation brief, as the longer it took for him to get to Vanessa, the greater the danger that could be possibly awaiting her would be.
He instructed his men to get Luke out of the chains he had been bound in and he should be brought to the center of the room where a seat had been prepared for both of them.
Luke was already weak, feeble, and lanky that he could barely stand on his feet. He had to be guided by two men to the seat Rafael was waiting by, his stance wobbly as he was led to the wooden chair.
Rafael was already waiting by, seated across a table which had the seat meant for Luke opposite it. Rafael just sat there, his expression void, seemingly not bothered about what was going on, especially the fact that one of his men whom he had high hopes for might just be the one behind Vanessa's escape from his estate.
“Where is she?” Was the first question that came out of Rafael's mouth the moment Luke had had a seat behind the table.
“I- I don't know, Santiano. I really wish I did.” Marco managed to say, his bruised lips quievering as he said a word.
One of the men standing behind Luke closed the gap between himself and Luke, throwing a heavy punch into the poor man— Luke's face, his already limp head slamming into the table before him.
“Argh!” Luke groaned in pain at the harsh hit, his face swelling in an instant, adding to the ugly bruises he had had on his face to begin with.
Blood soon began to ooze out of the cut he had sustained by ramming his head into the table and it drizzled down his face like tears, but a lot more thicker and bloody red.
Luke could hear Rafael chuckling as he lifted his face off the table. He knew what Rafael could do to him in order to make him speak the truth about Vanessa's escape and disappearance, but what truth could he say when he was also clueless about where she could be?
The words Rafael and his men— his former comrades as it seemed where expecting from him would only be forced out of him to justify the truth they wanted, but he has never met Vanessa that evening— not even once.
The only truth there was was the fact that he was supposed to meet with Vanessa at the base of the tunnel that evening— a secret exit from the Devereaux mansion according to the plan Leah had put him on, but he had never found Vanessa there.
Perhaps, he had arrived a little too late at the tunnel's exit because he had noticed signs of footprints belonging to men at the base of the tunnel while that of Vanessa were not printed in the damp ground, so he came to a brief conclusion in his mind.
Two scenarios his mind had made up; one, it was either Vanessa's footprints had been washed away by the rain or she had fallen into the wrong hands and she had been abducted by another mafia family who had had their eyes on her.
The former, he had made possible conclusions to be not true because if Vanessa's footprints had been washed away by the rain, the footprints he had seen— which supposedly belonged to men considering the size and sole print of their shoes wouldn't be visible still.
The latter, he prayed against because he knew for sure his life and Leah's would be in great danger if anything happened to Vanessa— even at her disappearance, he could already see death knocking on the door with a silly grin to its lips.
At that moment, death was not a creature of myth and he could see it sitting right in front of him, staring into the fabric of his own soul like it could tear him apart with one single word sprawling out of his mouth.
Rafael was wielding the unholy synth at him without mercy in his eyes— Santiano Rafael Devereaux himself was DEATH.