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Red room: The origin

The Red Room is a story of resilience in the face of profound adversity. Emerlda, a young woman burdened by a painful past, finds herself abandoned in a world that deems her inferior – the ruthless mafia. This scarlet chamber, a symbol of her isolation and despair, becomes the crucible where her spirit is tested. Yet, from the ashes of abandonment and societal prejudice, Emerlda rises. Like a phoenix, she refuses to be consumed by the flames of hardship. This abstract hints at a narrative that explores themes of overcoming trauma, defying societal expectations, and ultimately, achieving personal triumph. The red room, a potent symbol, transforms from a place of despair to a starting point for her remarkable journey. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. It condemns child and women abuse, emphasizing the inherent equality of all genders.

DaoistvtdATq · Urbain
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28 Chs

Chapter 24 New enemy

Gates mopped his brow with a shaking hand, his eyes darting nervously between Emerlda and the President. Emerlda's request for a one-on-one meeting had sent a jolt of fear through him. He knew all too well the depths of her fury, and the raw power that simmered beneath the surface."This...this is a bit out of my hands, Ms. Borstov," he stammered, his voice barely a whisper. "The President…"Emerlda cut him off with a withering glare. "Don't waste my time, Gates," she growled. "We both know that rodent has less power in this room than a housefly right now." Her eyes narrowed further. "You know what's at stake here. You know what will happen if a single strand of hair falls from my brother's head."Gates swallowed hard, the metallic tang of fear filling his mouth. He couldn't deny her accusation. They needed Emerlda. They needed her skills, her raw fury, whatever it took to stop this virus. But a part of him, a more cautious, calculating part, hesitated. There was something about Emerlda's presence, the way her eyes held a flicker of recognition, that unsettled him. Almost as if she remembered something… something he desperately wanted to keep buried.Clearing his throat, he forced a semblance of composure. "Look," he began, his voice strained, "I understand your concerns. Let's just… talk. One on one. Just you and me."Emerlda's gaze remained fixed on him, her expression unreadable. Finally, a ghost of a smile played on her lips. A smile devoid of warmth, laced with a dangerous promise."Fine," she stated, her voice dripping with icy calm. "But before we do," she leaned closer, her voice barely a whisper, "remember this, Gates. If anything happens to my family, if there's so much as a scratch on them… the consequences won't be limited to you or this… rodent of a President. They'll reach far beyond this room, far beyond this country. You understand?"Gates met her gaze for a fleeting moment, a cold shiver running down his spine. In that instant, he saw a glimpse of the raw power Emerlda wielded, a power that transcended human limitations. And for the first time, he truly understood the cost of failure. With a shaky nod, he gestured towards the door."The President's office is down the hall," he said, his voice barely audible. "We can talk there."Emerlda stood, her lioness companion rising beside her with a silent snarl. As they exited the room, leaving the President alone with his worries, a single question hung heavy in the air – what secrets did Gates and Emerlda share from a past they both desperately wanted to keep hidden? And would those secrets ultimately help or hinder their desperate mission to stop a global pandemic?Emerlda's brow furrowed as the last gruesome image flickered on the screen. "All the bodies…they have deep knife wounds," she stated, her voice devoid of emotion but her eyes sharp. "These weren't random deaths from the virus."Gates, despite himself, felt a flicker of surprise at her observation. He hadn't expected her to pick up on that detail so quickly. He cleared his throat, forcing a neutral expression."Indeed," he admitted. "The cause of those wounds is…unclear at this point." He reached for the tablet, scrolling through a series of blurry satellite images. "We haven't been able to get a clear picture of what's happening on the island. Our drones either get shot down or malfunction before getting close enough."He stopped on a particularly blurry photo, zooming in to reveal two indistinct figures standing in a clearing. "This is the closest we've gotten so far," he admitted.Emerlda leaned closer, squinting at the pixelated image. The figures were barely discernible, but something about the pose, the way they stood, sent a jolt through her. A feeling of unease, a sense of…recognition?"Who are those people?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Are they prisoners? Survivors?"Gates hesitated, a flicker of something akin to fear crossing his face for a split second. He quickly recovered his composure."We can't be sure," he said evasively. "The image resolution is too poor. But what can be said for certain is that they are the only signs of life we've been able to capture on the island."Emerlda stared at the photo, her mind racing. There was something about those figures, something that gnawed at her. Was it just the blurry image triggering her imagination, or was there a deeper connection to this island, to this deadly virus, that she couldn't quite grasp yet?She looked back at Gates, her gaze unwavering. "There's more to this island than you're telling me, isn't there?" she stated, her voice laced with suspicion.Gates held her gaze for a long moment, his expression unreadable. The weight of the situation, the secrets he harbored, hung heavy between them. Finally, with a sigh, he reached for another file on the tablet."Perhaps," he admitted, a hint of resignation in his voice. "But before I tell you anything else, there's something you need to know about the history of this island, and a… facility that existed there many years ago."The air crackled with unspoken tension as Gates began to reveal a hidden past, a past that might hold the key to the island's secrets, and perhaps, to Emerlda's own forgotten memories. The blurry photo had sparked a fire, and the hunt for her family had become a desperate race against time to unravel a conspiracy that stretched far beyond a simple viral outbreak.Emerlda leaned back in her chair, a steely glint in her eyes. "We might be walking into a trap, blindfolded," she admitted, her voice devoid of fear. "But no trap on Earth will stop me from getting my brother back."She rose to her feet, her towering presence filling the room. "We leave tonight."Gates watched her walk towards the door, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. "This wouldn't be happening," he blurted out, "if the bridge you built between the gangs in Africa hadn't crumbled. They all ran, destabilizing everything."Emerlda stopped at the doorway, her gaze fixed on Gates. "So, this is my fault?" she questioned, her voice laced with cold anger. "Is that what you're trying to say?"Gates shook his head, his frustration morphing into something akin to desperation. "No, no, not entirely," he stammered. "Look, I understand…""You understand nothing, Gates," Emerlda interrupted, her voice cutting through his words. "You haven't been in the trenches, haven't seen the chaos unfold first-hand like I have. But that doesn't matter now."She paused, a flicker of something more complex than anger crossing her face. "What matters is getting my family back. And while I appreciate the history lesson, I'd rather focus on the present."Emerlda's gaze softened slightly. Perhaps there was another way. "Tell me, Gates," she continued, her voice lower, less confrontational. "Is there anything – any intel, any resources – that could increase our chances on that island?"A glimmer of hope flickered in Gates' eyes. Perhaps, just perhaps, he could use this situation to his advantage. He cleared his throat, a plan forming in his mind."There might be," he admitted cautiously. "But it requires a delicate approach, and a willingness to work together despite our differences."Emerlda raised an eyebrow, a hint of suspicion lingering in her eyes. "What do you have in mind, Gates?" she asked, her voice a low rumble.The room fell silent once more, but this time with a different tension. The blame game was over. Now, a fragile alliance was teetering on the edge, and the fate of Emerlda's family, and perhaps the world, hung in the balanceEmerlda's face contorted in fury. She pushed herself out of her chair and marched towards Gates, her steps heavy with barely contained rage. "You dare talk to me about dreams?" she roared. "My peaceful life was ripped away years ago! I left that world behind, left the bloodshed and the power struggles. All I want is to be a wife to my idiot husband, a normal woman!"Her voice cracked slightly at the mention of her husband, betraying the raw pain buried beneath her anger. Gates watched her, a flicker of something akin to pity crossing his face. But it was quickly replaced by a steely determination."I know you do, Emerlda," he stated, his voice surprisingly gentle. "But deep down, you can't deny it. The gangs are on the verge of collapse. Without your leadership, the fragile peace you built is crumbling." He paused, his gaze locking with hers. "This isn't about glory, Emerlda. It's about the people you left behind. They need you, Master Borstov. Fate keeps pulling you back to your rightful path."Emerlda's anger simmered down, replaced by a cold, calculating stare. "And where do you fit into this grand design, Gates?" she questioned, her voice laced with suspicion. "Are you so concerned about the well-being of the gangs, or do you simply need a pawn to clean up this mess you created?"Gates faltered for a moment, caught off guard by her sharp observation. He recovered quickly, forcing a smile."Emerlda," he began, his tone placating, "this isn't about me. It's about stopping this virus and saving countless lives. With your skills and experience, you're the only one who can do it."There was a tense silence. Emerlda's mind raced, torn between the life she desired and the responsibility she couldn't seem to escape.Emerlda's voice cracked, a flicker of raw pain breaking through her anger. "I lost everything to this country, to those gangs! Weren't my sacrifices enough, Gates? A life ripped apart, replaced by metal and wires… wasn't that payment enough for a sliver of peace?"She clenched her fists, her body trembling with barely contained emotion. The room seemed to shrink, the air thick with tension. Even Marina, the lioness, growled softly, sensing her mistress's turmoil.Gates watched her, his face etched with regret. He knew he had pushed too far. "Emerlda," he began, his voice strained, "I… I apologize. This wasn't about forcing you back into something you left behind. It's just…" He hesitated, searching for the right words."Just what, Gates?" Emerlda's voice cut through the silence, her tone laced with ice. "Just that the whole damn world is on the brink of collapse, and you need a weapon to clean up the mess."Gates winced. Weapon? He hadn't meant it that way. He needed Emerlda's expertise, her unique skillset. But more than that, he needed her anger, her sense of justice, to be channeled towards a common enemy."Look," he stated, taking a deep breath, "you're right. I messed up. But throwing your hands up won't save your family, or anyone else for that matter. This virus is spreading like wildfire. Without your help…" He trailed off, letting the unspoken threat hang in the air.Emerlda stared at him, her expression unreadable. The anger slowly receded, replaced by a cold, calculating glint in her eyes. She had no love for Gates, no trust for the institutions he represented. But the thought of her family… that was a different story.Finally, she spoke, her voice low and dangerous. "Fine," she stated, her words dripping with disdain. "I'll help you … on my terms. But this is a one-time offer, Gates. You pull any more of your puppet strings, and I swear, I'll tear you apart, limb from enhanced limb."A tense silence descended upon the room once more. The line had been drawn. Gates had acknowledged his mistake, but the damage was doneEmerlda stared at the files scattered across the table, her initial anger replaced by a stunned silence. Top secret government documents, detailing a past she never knew existed. Her father, the loving man she barely remembered, wasn't just a gang leader – he was the architect of a hidden system, a "King" who kept the economy afloat with a ruthless fist. A bitter taste filled her mouth, a cocktail of betrayal and confusion."He… he used the Evolution for this?" she stammered, her voice barely a whisper. "But the Evolution… they protected people."Gates scoffed. "Protected people? They were muscle, Emerlda! Enforcers for a twisted system your father built. A system that relies on a carefully balanced power struggle between gangs, and a government that cleans up the mess when things get out of hand."He slammed his fist on the table, his voice rising. "This virus, this Maku… it throws everything into chaos! Even if we take down the guy who unleashed it, others will see the weakness. There will be power grabs, turf wars… the world will descend into anarchy!"Emerlda's mind raced. Was this all true? Was her father a monster, or was Gates manipulating the narrative to serve his own agenda? These files, these secrets… they were a powerful tool, and she wasn't sure who to trust."And what role do you play in all of this, Gates?" she asked, her voice laced with suspicion. "These files… they're highly classified. Why are you showing them to me?"Gates met her gaze, a calculating glint in his eyes. "Because, Emerlda," he stated, his voice low and persuasive, "you're the key to stopping this. You know these gangs, their weaknesses. With your help, we can take down the source of the virus, expose the cracks in this rotten system, and rebuild a new order. An order where people like you, with your unique abilities, are finally valued for what you can truly be – heroes, not pawns."Emerlda stared at him, her expression unreadable. The revelation of her past, the weight of the world's fate, and the offer of a new purpose swirled in her mind. Gates' words rang with a seductive logic, but could she trust him? Was this about saving the world, or about securing a new power base in the chaos to come? One thing was certain – Emerlda was no longer just a woman seeking her family. She was a pawn in a high-stakes game, and the pieces were only just beginning to move.A bitter laugh escaped Emerlda's lips as she flung the files back onto the table. "Achievements?" she scoffed. "He achieved neglect, a mistress he cared about more than his own daughter, and a bastard half-brother who probably thinks this whole 'King' business justifies everything!"Her voice cracked slightly at the mention of her half-brother, a flicker of pain betraying the anger in her eyes. Gates watched her, gauging her reaction. He knew about her past, the incident with Burns and his men – the event that had cemented her reputation as a ruthless killer."You know," he began, his voice surprisingly calm, "they never arrested you for what happened with Burns. They learned their lesson."Emerlda's eyes narrowed. "They learned the power I wield," she spat. "They learned that messing with me comes at a very high price."A fleeting image of the aftermath of that fight crossed her mind – the scorched earth, the sickening metallic tang in the air. A price, yes, but at what cost? The memories brought a wave of nausea, a constant reminder of the darkness within her.Before she could dwell on it further, Gates' voice cut through her thoughts. "You and your power," he said, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "Look, Emerlda, the economy is in shambles. The gangs are at each other's throats. We need you back in control, to restore the balance your father built."Emerlda snorted. "Don't compare me to him. I'm not interested in playing kingmaker for a bunch of thugs."Leo, who had been watching silently, finally stepped forward. He placed a hand on Emerlda's shoulder, his voice filled with concern. "Emmy," he said, using her childhood nickname, "think about this. You always rush into things, and people get hurt. If I die on this mission…" He faltered, his voice thick with emotion. "Just promise me you'll be careful, for me."Emerlda met his gaze, her eyes filled with a complicated mix of anger and love. Leo, her childhood friend, perhaps the only one who truly understood her pain. Could she risk hurting him again?The silence in the room stretched on, heavy with unspoken emotions and the weight of the world's fate. Emerlda's mind raced. Could she ever escape the past, the violence that clung to her like a second skin? Was there a way to use her power not to destroy, but to protect, to honor Leo's sacrifice?As the President and his men waited impatiently for their briefing, Emerlda knew a decision had to be made. Would she become a pawn in Gates' game, reliving the nightmare her father created? Or would she find a way to forge her own path, to protect her family, and perhaps, in the process, finally find a way to redeem herself? The answer, she realized with a deep breath, lay within her, buried beneath the anger and the pain. It was time to face the darkness within, and decide what kind of legacy she truly wanted to leave behind.Emerlda strode into the briefing room, a cold smile playing on her lips. The sight of the President and the Generals, clad in ill-fitting combat gear, sent a snort of laughter escaping her lips."What is this?" she scoffed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "A costume party? At your age, gentlemen, the biggest threat you face is a heart attack, not a virus."Her words hung heavy in the air, a challenge to their authority and a stark reminder of their mortality. A muscle in the President's jaw clenched, but he held his tongue. This mission was too important to risk jeopardizing with Emerlda's volatile temper.Gates cleared his throat, stepping forward to take control of the situation. "Emerlda," he began, his voice surprisingly calm, "these men are… reinforcements. Specialists with the necessary skills to navigate the island's defenses."Emerlda's gaze flicked past him, landing on the ten hired guns who had just entered the room. They were a motley crew, heavily armed but radiating a nervous energy that did little to inspire confidence. A cruel smile played on her lips."Reinforcements, or cannon fodder?" she questioned, her voice devoid of warmth. "Let's be honest here, gentlemen. You're all just elaborate decoys, a distraction while I get to my brother."The men shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, their bravado faltering. Emerlda took a menacing step closer, her enhanced senses picking up the frantic pounding of their hearts."Whether you live or die on this mission is entirely up to you," she continued, her voice a low rumble. "But piss me off, make one wrong move… and I'll put a bullet in your head myself. Consider it a mercy compared to what the virus will do."A tense silence descended upon the room, broken only by the ragged breaths of the hired crew. Emerlda's words had struck a deep chord, a reminder of the brutal reality of the situation.However, amidst the bravado and intimidation, a flicker of something else crossed Emerlda's face – a fleeting concern, a worry that seemed to cloud her steely gaze for a brief moment. It was almost imperceptible, but for those who knew her best, it was a tell. A hint of a weakness, an emotional attachment she couldn't quite suppress – her concern for Leo.Gates, a keen observer of human nature, noticed the shift in her demeanor. A spark of interest ignited in his eyes. Perhaps, he thought, there was more to Emerlda than just rage and violence. Perhaps, that very weakness could be used to his advantage, not just to stop the virus, but to achieve something far more sinister. The mission had just begun, and the true battle lines were only just being drawn.A collective gasp filled the room as Emerlda crushed the tracking chip in her hand. Gates stared at her, his expression unreadable. "You…" he began, his voice low."Don't even think about it, Gates," Emerlda interrupted, her voice laced with ice. "I take orders from no one, least of all a traitor."The word hung heavy in the air, a barb aimed directly at Gates. His eyes narrowed, but he held his temper. This wasn't the time for a fight."Fine," he conceded, his voice a cold whisper. "Then suit up. You may not trust me, but I'm going with you. Consider it a one-way ticket to your grave."Emerlda's eyes widened for a split second before narrowing again. Was it a threat, or a subtle warning veiled with a bitter truth? The answer remained unclear.Moments later, they were on the plane, racing towards the unknown. Gates, clad in combat gear, looked surprisingly composed. In Emerlda's eyes, he looked almost… prepared."You mentioned surprises," Gates began, his voice breaking the tense silence. He glanced at the gun in his holster. "Any chance this little mission involves one of your… colorful nemeses from the past?"Emerlda scoffed. "What makes you think I know any of that? For all I care, my past deeds could be scribbled on toilet paper and flushed down the drain for all I remember." Her voice dripped with a forced nonchalance, but the flicker of pain in her eyes betrayed her facade.Up front, the pilot announced, "Brace yourselves for drop-off. We can't fly any closer."Emerlda turned to her crew, her voice hardening. "You heard the man. Kill anything hostile you come across… except my brother. We split up on the ground. Gates…" she paused, her gaze locking with his, "you're with me."Gates met her stare, a hint of a challenge flickering in his eyes. The island loomed ahead, shrouded in mist and danger. The mission had begun, and the uneasy alliance between Emerlda and Gates was about to be tested.Emerlda squirmed through the cramped confines of the ventilation pipe, her voice muffled. "Ugh, I hope those guys at the front door made it in alright." Her words lacked conviction, a hollow echo in the metallic tunnel.Gates, following close behind, glanced at her with a sardonic smile. "Touched by your sudden concern for cannon fodder, Borstov?"Emerlda gritted her teeth, the nickname sending a jolt of irritation through her. "Just stating a fact," she muttered. She wasn't entirely heartless. A flicker of doubt gnawed at her – had she been too callous in sending the expendable crew through the front door?The memory of her husband, the reason for that prison break, surfaced unbidden. The desperation in his eyes, the betrayal that had carved a permanent scar on her soul. Was that why she felt a pang of unease for those men? Or was it something else?They finally reached the designated exit point, a rusty grate leading into a dimly lit bathroom. As Emerlda pushed it open, she caught a glimpse of the map on Gates' datapad. It highlighted a section of the building labeled "Solitary Confinement.""This reminds me," she began, a nostalgic lilt in her voice, "of the time I busted my idiot husband out of jail."Gates scoffed, his voice laced with disgust. "Oh, right," he said, his words dripping with sarcasm. "The time you 'busted him out' by single-handedly demolishing half the prison and leaving a trail of bodies in your wake. Real hero move, Borstov."Emerlda's face hardened. The casual cruelty in his voice struck a raw nerve. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps she wasn't the hero she once thought she was. But then, who was? The government who had turned a blind eye to the suffering she endured as a gang leader's wife? Or the very world that forced her to become this ruthless weapon?The air crackled with unspoken tension as they emerged from the bathroom. The sterile white walls of the hallway mocked them, a stark contrast to the darkness that consumed Emerlda's past. She knew Gates wouldn't let her forget her actions, his words a constant reminder of the monster she might have become. But somewhere deep down, a spark of defiance flickered. She wouldn't let him control her. She would find her brother, get her revenge, and maybe, just maybe, find a way to redeem herself, even if it meant facing the ghosts of her past head-on.

When Emerlda jumped out of the pipe guns were pointed at her, she chuckled and said, "I wouldn't come down if I were you Gates!" It was already too late Gates had jumped down; he lifted his hands in the air as all his weapons were seized. They were handcuffed and taken to a strange room.

Gates mocking Emerlda said, "I thought pipelines were safe…" "Shut the fuck up, I should have sent you on the front!" They looked like two angry fights fighting over a fish bone. Gates looking at one armed man said, "Excuse me can I have a different room."

Emerlda's eyes narrowed as they fell on Daniel. Despite the anger simmering within her, a pang of something else flickered across her face – a flicker of pain, quickly masked by her usual bravado. "You…" she spat, her voice tight with barely controlled fury. "You look better than I anticipated."A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "A bunch of pussies, you say? Is that what they are calling them these days? You couldn't handle a few thugs while I was gone?"Daniel flinched under her gaze, the fresh bruises on his face standing out against his pale skin. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. Beside him, Michel whimpered, clinging tightly to his leg."Shut up when I'm talking to my brother!" Emerlda roared, her voice echoing in the sterile room. The anger in her eyes burned so hot it seemed to scorch the air."Emerlda, please," Daniel stammered, his voice barely a whisper. "We had no choice. Things got out of hand…""No choice?" she scoffed. "There's always a choice, little brother. You could have stayed hidden, kept your family safe. Didn't you learn anything from all these years watching me?"The man in the white suit cleared his throat again, a hint of annoyance creeping into his previously warm smile. "Emerlda," he began, his voice smooth as silk, "I was starting to explain…"Emerlda cut him off with a withering glare that would have made lesser men cower. "I wasn't talking to you," she snapped. Her focus remained solely on Daniel, her anger laced with a deep-seated resentment. Why, after all this time, did he have to go and screw things up? Did he not understand the dangers he'd exposed himself and Michel to?"This isn't about you," Daniel finally managed, his voice gaining a tremor of defiance. "We couldn't just sit by and do nothing. Don't you see what's happening? The virus… it's worse than they say. People are dying, Emerlda."His words hung heavy in the air, a challenge to her dismissive attitude. A flicker of something akin to surprise crossed Emerlda's face. Perhaps there was more to Daniel's actions than simple recklessness. Perhaps, beneath the fear and shame, there was a spark of courage, a desire to protect his family, that mirrored something deep within her own troubled past. But before she could acknowledge this newfound understanding, the tension in the room escalated.The man in the white suit, his smile completely vanished, took a menacing step forward. "That's enough, both of you," he growled, his voice losing its silky smoothness. "There are more important matters at hand right now. We need to discuss what to do about Emerlda's little… predicament."Emerlda met his gaze, her eyes blazing with defiance. This was far from over. There were answers to be found, loyalties to be questioned, and a way out of this gilded cage to be secured. The reunion with her brother may not have been what she expected, but it had ignited a fire within her – a fire fueled by anger, a thirst for answers, and perhaps, a flicker of a long-dormant protectiveness. The game had just begun.Daniel's smile, despite the chapped lips, sent a fresh wave of anger surging through Emerlda. "Master?" she spat, her voice dripping with venom. "Don't even think about it, little brother. The only master I serve is myself, and you," she added, her voice softening slightly, "you'd be wise to remember that."The man in white, his smile now strained, cleared his throat. "Can I speak now, Master Borstov?" he began, his voice regaining a semblance of its previous calmness. "I assure you, I come in peace."Emerlda snorted. "Peace? Right. And pigs can fly." She rattled her now-empty cuffs, the metallic clinking echoing in the tense silence. "No shit you do," she added, her gaze fixed on the man.He gestured to his guards, who reluctantly removed the handcuffs from Michel and Daniel. A wave of relief washed over Emerlda's face, quickly replaced by a renewed wave of suspicion. This wasn't a simple misunderstanding. This man, whoever he was, had planned this. And his motives remained unclear."Apologies for the… rudeness," the man said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "But it was necessary to ensure your safety. All your men are unharmed, currently being… accommodated elsewhere."Emerlda raised an eyebrow, taking in his slender build and sharp features. Asian descent, with a face that could have been handsome if not for the unsettling glint in his eyes. He didn't strike her as someone who relied on brute force, but rather on cunning and strategy. A dangerous combination.He set a steaming cup of tea in front of her. "Don't worry," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice, "it isn't poisoned."Emerlda stared at the cup, the fragrant steam swirling upwards. Poison or not, trusting this man was a gamble. She could try to overpower him, fight her way out. But with Daniel and Michel here, hostages in their own right, that was a risky proposition. Besides, something outside this room, something she couldn't quite sense yet, felt far more dangerous than this man's hospitality.With a sigh, she reached out and gingerly picked up the cup. Taking a small sniff, she brought it to her lips. The delicate scent of jasmine filled her senses. For a moment, the tension in the room seemed to ease. Perhaps, just perhaps, a temporary truce was possible."Alright," she finally conceded, her voice low and dangerous. "Talk. Tell me why I'm here, and maybe, just maybe, I'll consider listening."The man in white smiled, a genuine this time, his eyes gleaming with a hint of something akin to respect. "Excellent," he replied. "Let me introduce myself. I am Kenji Sato, and I believe we can be of great assistance to each other."Emerlda slammed her chair back with a resounding thud, the sound echoing in the opulent room. "Tea parties aren't my style," she growled, her voice laced with barely contained anger. "I came here for one thing, and one thing only – my brother."The man, still sporting that infuriatingly warm smile, bowed slightly. "My apologies, Emerlda Borstov," he began, his voice smooth as silk. "My name is Qian Li, and I assure you, your brother is perfectly safe.""Safe?" Emerlda scoffed. "Safe while being held captive by a bunch of strangers? Here's a lesson in basic courtesy, Qian Li. You don't touch what's mine."Qian's smile didn't falter, but a flicker of something akin to amusement danced in his eyes. This woman, he had to admit, possessed a raw ferocity that even he found impressive. But could he control it? Could he turn it into a weapon for his own purposes?The silence in the room stretched, broken only by the rhythmic hum of the air conditioning. Suddenly, the doors slid open, revealing a woman clad in a flowing kimono. Her gaze was sharp, her face emotionless. In her hands, she held two gleaming swords, the air around them crackling with a barely contained energy. She knelt before Qian Li, silently presenting him with a folder.Emerlda's eyes narrowed as they fell on the swords. The woman, whoever she was, radiated an aura of deadly efficiency. These weren't mere decorations, Emerlda realized with a jolt. They were instruments of war, and a chilling premonition washed over her.She snatched the folder from Qian Li's outstretched hand, her movements swift and predatory. "If you're looking to do business, Borstov Enterprises closed down a decade ago," she snarled, flipping through the documents with a practiced eye. "Are you going to release my brother, or do I have to wade my way through a pile of corpses to get him back?"Qian leaned back in his chair, his amusement deepening. He had a feeling Emerlda wouldn't hesitate to follow through on that threat. But was unleashing this volatile force the best course of action? Perhaps there was another way. A way to use her anger, her power, to his advantage, while keeping her just barely on the edge of control."There's no need for such hostility, Emerlda," Qian began, his voice taking on a surprisingly soothing tone. "Your skills… your experience… they could be invaluable. And let's be honest," he added, his eyes locking with hers, "your brother could certainly use all the help he can get."Emerlda's gaze flickered towards Daniel, who was watching the exchange with a mixture of fear and defiance. A pang of something akin to protectiveness flickered within her, quickly masked by her usual scowl. Qian's words hung in the air, a challenge wrapped in a veiled threat.Emerlda was trapped. Trusting this man, with his hidden agenda and silent enforcer, felt like walking into a viper's nest. But the thought of leaving Daniel at his mercy… No, that wasn't an option. She had to play along, for now.With a deep breath, she slammed the folder shut. "Fine," she spat, her voice laced with a dangerous edge. "Tell me what you want, Qian Li. But make it quick. My patience is wearing thin."Qian's smile widened, a genuine this time. He had her interest, at least for now. The game had just begun, and the stakes were high. The question was, could Emerlda navigate the treacherous waters ahead, or would she become another pawn sacrificed in Qian Li's deadly gameGates' gaze flickered from the heavily armed guards stationed around the room to the seemingly innocuous trees outside the window. His mind raced, formulating a plan. Those trees, their branches strategically positioned near the air vent… perhaps they offered a way out, a desperate gamble if necessary.The silence in the room felt suffocating. Qian's words, delivered with a chilling intensity, hung in the air. "An axe forgets," he growled, his face contorted in a mask of rage. "But the tree remembers every blow!"Emerlda snorted, her defiance barely masking a flicker of unease. "Spare me the philosophical bullshit," she snapped, waving a dismissive hand at a nearby guard. "Just get on with it. I'd rather have a bullet to the head than listen to your twisted proverbs."Gates couldn't help but admire her bravado, even if it was a little foolhardy. Didn't she realize the precarious position she was in? One wrong move, and they'd be riddled with bullets.Qian cleared his throat, his anger seeming to recede as quickly as it had risen. "Apologies for the outburst," he said, his voice regaining its unsettling smoothness. "The drug, you see, started as a minor lab error. A miscalculation, if you will. But like all mistakes, it had its… unforeseen benefits."He paused, his gaze locking onto Emerlda with unsettling intensity. "The collateral damage," he continued, his voice dropping to a low murmur, "worked to my advantage. And now," he added, a cruel smile playing on his lips, "I finally have you exactly where I want you."Emerlda's face hardened, but a flicker of something akin to fear flickered in her eyes. "Collateral damage?" she scoffed, her voice cracking ever so slightly. "They say I'm the one who leaves a trail of bodies in my wake, yet you casually admit to killing thousands for a little chat? You could have just asked this glorified babysitter here for my number."She gestured towards Gates, who remained silent, his gaze fixed on the guards. But from the subtle shift in his posture, a barely perceptible tensing of his muscles, Gates was far from idle.Qian ignored her barb, instead reaching for a folder on the table. He withdrew a single photograph, placing it face down in front of Emerlda. "Remember him?" he asked, his voice laced with a cruel amusement.Emerlda snatched the photo, her fingers trembling slightly. As she flipped it over, a gasp escaped her lips. The image depicted a man, his face etched with agony, his lifeless eyes staring blankly back at her. A man she clearly recognized, a man whose identity sent a jolt of shock and a wave of raw emotion through her.Emerlda's defiance faltered for a moment, replaced by a mixture of grief and fury. This photo, this unexpected blow, had struck a deep chord within her. Who was this man? How did he fit into the twisted puzzle Qian was weaving? And most importantly, what did his death have to do with Emerlda?Before she could voice any of these questions, Qian's voice cut through the tense silence. "The game has only just begun," he said, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous anticipation. "And this time, Emerlda Borstov, there will be no escape."