Chapter 4: Fractured Loyalties

Elizabeth woke to the sharp sting of cold metal pressing against her wrists and the heavy scent of damp concrete filling her lungs. Every muscle in her body ached as if she had been tossed around like a rag doll. She blinked against the dim yellow light of a flickering bulb overhead, her vision swimming into focus. A chill crawled up her spine as she realized her hands were bound tightly to the arms of a chair, the coarse ropes digging into her skin.

The room was barren, save for a rusted table in front of her and a single steel door across the room. The faint murmur of voices filtered through the walls, their tones low but charged with urgency. Elizabeth strained her ears, trying to catch the words, but the sound was too muffled to decipher.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and Ethan stepped in, his presence casting a long shadow across the floor. The man before her was unrecognizable. The warmth she had once thought genuine was now replaced by a predatory stillness. His sharp suit and confident stride exuded control, but his eyes, those icy, calculating eyes, betrayed something darker.

"Good," he said, his voice smooth and detached. "You're awake."

Elizabeth swallowed hard, her throat dry and scratchy. "Why are you doing this, Ethan?"

He tilted his head, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Doing what, exactly? Keeping you alive? Protecting you from Vincent's men? You should be thanking me, Elizabeth."

Her heart twisted at the audacity of his words. "Protecting me? You tied me up and dragged me here like some criminal!"

Ethan chuckled, the sound devoid of humor. "Oh, don't be so dramatic. Do you honestly think Vincent's men would've been this gentle?"

Gentle? Her wrists were raw, and her body felt like it had been through a war. She glared at him, the fire in her eyes refusing to be extinguished. "Cut the crap, Ethan. What do you really want?"

His smirk widened, but there was no warmth in it. He dragged a chair from the corner and sat down across from her, leaning forward so their faces were only inches apart.

"What I want," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, "is for you to tell me everything you know. Every name, every lead, every little secret you've been keeping. Because, trust me, Elizabeth, lying to me will only make things worse."

Elizabeth's mind raced, trying to make sense of his words. "You said you weren't behind the attack on me," she said, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and fury. "Were you lying about that too?"

Ethan's smirk faltered for a split second before his expression hardened. "I didn't need to orchestrate the attack," he said coldly. "Vincent has his ways of cleaning up loose ends, and you, my dear, are the loosest of them all."

Her blood ran cold. "So what's your plan? Hand me over to him?"

Ethan leaned back, feigning casual indifference. "Hand you over? That's too predictable. Besides, I need you alive—for now. Vincent thinks you know something valuable, and I plan to find out what it is before he does."

"I don't know anything!" Elizabeth shot back, her voice cracking under the weight of her panic.

Ethan's smile returned, sharp as a blade. "Oh, Elizabeth. You underestimate yourself. Everyone has something to hide, and I'm very good at finding it."

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Before Elizabeth could respond, Ethan's phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced at the screen, and for a fleeting moment, his confident facade cracked. Whatever he saw on the display unsettled him, but he quickly masked it with his usual arrogance.

Don't go anywhere," he said, his voice laced with mockery.

Ethan stepped back from the chair and paced to the other side of the room. Rather than leaving, he answered the call right there, lowering his voice but not enough to completely muffle the conversation. He likely assumed her bindings, and her fear, were deterrent enough.

Elizabeth strained her ears, desperate to catch snippets of his conversation through the thin walls.

His voice was barely audible, a low, desperate whisper. "No, I haven't...her...not yet, at least." He paused, his words hanging in the air like a plea. "Give me more time...just a little more. I'll take care of it, I assure you"

Her stomach churned. Ethan wasn't just lying to her; he was lying to other side of the mobile too. He was playing a dangerous game, juggling alliances that could crumble at any moment. And she was caught in the crossfire.

She tested the ropes binding her wrists, wincing as they cut into her skin. There had to be a way out of this.

Ethan returned moments later, his composure firmly in place. This time, he carried a small black case, setting it on the table with deliberate care.

"Let's make this simple," he said, opening the case to reveal an assortment of syringes and vials. "You tell me what I need to know, and I don't have to use these."

Elizabeth's heart pounded as fear gripped her chest. "You're insane."

Ethan chuckled, picking up one of the syringes and holding it up to the light. "Perhaps. But insanity and genius often go hand in hand, don't they? Now, who have you been talking to?"

"No one," she said, her voice steady despite the panic threatening to consume her.

Ethan sighed, setting the syringe down. "Wrong answer, Elizabeth. You've been digging into Vincent's operations. Someone's feeding you information, and I need to know who."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, meeting his gaze with defiance.

His calm demeanor shattered as he slammed his hand on the table, making her flinch. "Don't lie to me! You think you're clever, but you're in over your head. Tell me, or I swear I'll make you regret it."

Before Ethan could carry out his threat, the door burst open. A young woman stormed in, her face pale but determined.

"Ethan, what the hell are you doing?" she demanded, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear.

Ethan turned to her, his jaw tightening. "Clara, this is none of your business."

"It is when you've gone completely off the rails!" Clara shot back, her gaze darting to Elizabeth. "Is this what you've become? Torturing people to save your own skin?"

Elizabeth stared at the newcomer, her confusion deepening. "Who are you?"

"She's my sister," Ethan said through gritted teeth.

Clara ignored him, moving to Elizabeth's side. "Are you okay?"

Elizabeth hesitated, unsure whether to trust her. "I've been better."

Clara pulled a knife from her pocket, cutting through the ropes with quick, precise movements. "We need to get out of here. Now."

Ethan stepped between them and the door, his expression darkening. "You're making a big mistake, Clara."

"No," Clara said, her voice firm. "The only mistake here is thinking you can play both sides and get away with it."

Clara shoved Ethan aside, and she and Elizabeth bolted for the door. Alarms blared as they ran through the building, their footsteps echoing in the narrow hallways.

"Keep moving!" Clara urged, glancing over her shoulder.

Elizabeth's lungs burned as they reached an exit, the cold night air hitting her like a slap. They raced toward a waiting car, its engine idling. Clara threw open the passenger door and shoved Elizabeth inside before jumping into the driver's seat.

As the car sped away, Elizabeth turned to look at Clara, her mind racing with questions.

"Why are you helping me?"

Clara's grip on the wheel tightened. "Because Ethan's gone too far. And because Vincent the boss of Ethan is a monster I refuse to let win."

Elizabeth nodded, her fear giving way to a flicker of hope. "What now?"