Chapter 74 The Hand Behind Her Disappearance: Celeste
Caroline's subtle movement was caught instantly. The men who had been muttering among themselves turned in unison, their eyes cold and predatory as they locked onto her.
"Trying to run, sweetheart? Too bad for you we're not the kind of fools who risk their necks for nothing." The man standing over her flashed a smile that made her stomach turn.
A sharp pain shot through her arm the next instant.
He yanked her upright with brutal force, nearly pulling her off her feet.
Realizing how bad this was, she fought to break free, but another man, taller and broader, pinned her with ease.
They were done talking. One of them produced a filthy rag that reeked of chemicals and shoved it into her mouth without hesitation.
Then they grabbed her, one on each side, and dragged her toward the exit.
The hallway outside was dim and narrow. At the far end was a back door that opened onto an even tighter alley.
The night air hit her like a slap. In nothing but thin clothes, Caroline's whole body convulsed.
At the end of the alley sat a battered refrigerated truck. The rear doors swung open, releasing a wave of cold air mixed with the stench of rotting fish and spoiled vegetables.
"Get in!" The man shoved her inside without mercy.
Caroline hit the freezing, slick floor of the cargo hold hard. Pain shot through her body as she curled in on herself.
The doors slammed shut behind her. The lock clicked into place.
The last sliver of light vanished. The truck's icy darkness swallowed her whole.
Bone-deep cold came at her from every direction, seeping through her clothes, into her skin, down to her marrow. She shook violently, her teeth chattering so hard she thought they might crack.
Her hands and feet were bound. Her mouth was gagged. She could not even wrap her arms around herself for warmth.
She refused to give up.
Ignoring the pain, she moved in the darkness until she found ice crystals forming on the interior wall.
She turned around and scraped her bound wrists against the rough ice.
Her skin burned almost immediately. She had to stop. Like a fish out of water, she wriggled and squirmed until she managed to push herself upright.
Finally, Caroline stood.
With her back to the door, she felt blindly for the handle.
Despair. The lock was on the outside. She could not open it.
Even if she could, jumping from a speeding truck would kill her just as surely.
After several failed attempts, Caroline's strength gave out. She collapsed into the corner, curling into the smallest shape possible to conserve heat.
But it was still too cold. The pain of frostbite crept from her fingers and toes, spreading inward, slowly going numb. Her breath turned to fog in the frigid air, then vanished.
She did not know how much time passed. Her consciousness began to slip.
At first, she shook violently. Then, strangely, the shaking stopped.
A deceptive warmth spread through her body, making her drowsy.
The rational part of her mind screamed, 'No... don't sleep!'
She knew what this meant.
Her body was shutting down. This was hypothermia's final stage.
She tried to fight it, tried to stay awake, but her limbs would not obey. That deceptive warmth wrapped around her like a gentle trap, pulling her down into the depths.
Her eyelids grew heavier. Darkness pressed in from all sides. Exhaustion begged her to close her eyes.
She could not resist anymore. Her consciousness flickered like a candle in the wind, then went out. She sank into the endless, frozen dark.
When awareness returned, the first thing she felt was still cold.
It came from somewhere deep in her bones, making her shudder.
Then she registered what was beneath her. Softness.
That was not right. This was not the freezing truck.
She... was she dead?
Someone like her had always been destined for Hell. And Hell never came with silk sheets.
Caroline forced her eyes open. It took a moment for her vision to adjust.
Above her was a ceiling painted garish pink. A cheap imitation crystal chandelier cast dim, sickly light.
She was lying on a wide bed, covered with a thick down comforter. The bindings on her hands and feet were gone. The gag had been removed.
What was happening?
After a moment of confusion, Caroline snapped fully awake.
This was not rescue. Something was very wrong.
"You're awake?"
A gentle female voice spoke beside her.
Caroline jerked her head around in terror. A woman in a maid's uniform stood by the bed, holding a white porcelain bowl that steamed faintly. She looked like she had been waiting a long time.
"Feeling better? You were unconscious for quite a while. You must have been frozen half to death. Here, drink some hot soup to warm up." The maid set the bowl on the nightstand and reached out to help her sit up.
Caroline scrambled backward, pressing herself against the headboard, watching the woman with wild eyes.
The maid did not seem surprised she could not speak. She continued in that same gentle tone. "Oh, right. They said you would not be able to talk for a while. That is fine. Just rest and drink your soup. I will be right outside if you need anything."
She pointed to a call button by the bed, then turned and left.
The moment the door closed, Caroline heard the lock click into place.
She was a prisoner.
Cold sweat broke over her skin. She threw herself off the bed and stumbled to the door on stiff legs, pounding on it with her fists.
No matter how much noise she made, the door stayed shut.
Celeste. She had conspired with the household staff to lock her in this place.
The fire at the apartment. The kidnappings. Every piece suddenly clicked into place.
She had her answer.
Did Alexander know?
Maybe he did. Maybe he had chosen to look the other way.
Caroline collapsed to the floor, gasping for air, her dry eyes unable to produce tears.
Could she escape?
Her hollow gaze drifted around the room, and she noticed something strange.
Beyond the dim lighting and the garish pink paint, the furniture looked wrong. It seemed expensive at first glance, like something from a mansion. But on closer inspection, it was all cheap knockoffs.
And the room had no windows.