Everything hurt.
Angela felt like a train had run over her.
'What's happening?'
She slowly fluttered her eyes open, and the room spun. 'Have I been drugged?' The only light she had in the room was a flickering, dim emergency lamp on the wall, which didn't help with her nausea.
Just as she thought of that, the attack came rushing through her head, and she gasped, clutching her forehead. She gritted her teeth and winced when her fingers pressed on a cut and swollen flesh above her right eyebrow. That was not the only thing that was swollen as she reached for her left cheek, and she remembered the man had slapped her hard. There were bloodstains on her fingers and her white shirt, but she didn't seem to have wounds on her body.
Good thing she wasn't tied up. Her surroundings slowly registered, and she realized she was in a bed—and not just any bed, it was a dirty, rusty old hospital bed. The rest of the room was empty and dark; the windows were covered in paper, and trash littered the floor. It smelled moldy and bad—like some animals lived there and something rotting somewhere nearby.
Swinging her legs out of the bed, she trudged towards the windows and tore the newspaper away, only to be disappointed when it was completely black as if the exterior had been covered too.
Angela turned around and dragged herself towards the door. Her whole body ached every time she took a step. She must have poorly landed when her attacker hit her. She was afraid she already knew who was behind this.
Thankfully, the doorknob was unlocked. She twisted it open and shuffled outside. The hallway was equally dark, just like her room, save for the buzzing dim lights on the wall that made her a path. There were no doors visible as if the room she came from was the only one in the hallway. "Hello?" she croaked, her throat dry and hoarse.
Reaching the end of the hallway, her eyes adjusted to the three figures standing in the middle of an empty room covered by concrete walls. She then realized that her vision wasn't reliable because she was no longer wearing her lenses. Angela was sure she had worn them earlier. If they had remained on her eyes while she was unconscious, they would have stung so bad. This only confirmed that these people must know her personally, and they had removed her lenses to impair her.
The thing with her vision was that, she would be fine not wearing her contacts or glasses after a good rest as long as she wasn't reading something and she could move around. But once she wore them and then later took them off, her eyesight would be bad—just like they were at that moment.
The figures were less than twenty feet away, and she could not see their faces. However, the hair on her nape stood on end when she recognized the man with his back to her even with her terrible eyesight.
Angela stopped in her tracks, her hands clenched on her sides as she waited for him to speak. She used the chance to scan around with difficulty. Then she realized the place was a derelict building. No point wasting her breath to scream for help, knowing these people wouldn't be stupid enough to put her where she could ask for help easily.
The man turned around, and his face blurred. Despite that, she knew who he was, and a small gasp escaped her lips even though she had tried to brace herself. Her heart raced.
The man slowly walked towards her, and the closer he got, the more his face became clearer until he was standing a few feet away from where she could see his face fully. She couldn't say she wasn't surprised to see Evan. Deep inside, she knew they would meet again. But it had been years since she had last seen him. His muscles filled out his shirt more than the last time, and the sharp features on his face made her want to slap him.
"You're awake," were his first words, a smirk ghosting his lips as his eyes raked her body.
Evan had always been a green-eyed beauty. They were one of the things she found attractive from his physical appearance, but now, she only thought they were a pair of murky lake water. They were unlike Gio's eyes that had gold flecks in them.
She swallowed. The thought of Gio instantly connected to Gael, and her heart hammered in her chest, and sweat formed on her forehead, stinging her wound. Angela was so out of it when she woke up that she only thought about him. He must be so angry and worried. She needed to go home to him now.
Not to alert Evan, she kept her face still as she slowly held her wrist where her bracelet was, thankful that it was there and they didn't take it from her. She rejoiced inwardly when she could feel the necklace around her neck, too, the pendant resting under her shirt and right atop her chest. Evan must've not suspected that. She didn't know if he was reckless or too trusting that she wouldn't do anything—at least not to them, seeing as she was alone and there were three of them.
"Evan," she replied, keeping her chin up. "What am I doing here? Take me home."
He tilted his head to the side, the smirk still stupidly on his face. "No kiss? Don't you miss me, Sweetheart?" He opened his arms as if inviting her for a hug.
Angela drew her brows together, scoffing as she placed an arm under her breast while the other pressed against her chest in scornful derision at his gesture. But really, she was subtly touching her pendant.
Click.
She breathed in deeply, a newly found confidence and hope washing over her. 'That should have worked,' she thought.
"You must be delusional if you think that for one second I would miss you. Let me go, and I will forget this ever happened." Angela needed to buy some time. She didn't know where she was and how long help would arrive. Attempting to escape this place with these three men on her—especially if they had skills and were trained like Evan—would be useless.
Evan clicked his tongue. "Tsk tsk tsk. You know this is not how it works. Give me what I want, and I'll let you go. It's as simple as that. I'm not here to hurt you."
She didn't believe him for a second. His face that she once thought was handsome now looked so disgusting to her. She felt so gross all over that she had the urge to shower and scrub herself raw until all thoughts of him washed away.
"You think I'd believe that after today?" As if to remind her, the wound and swelling throbbed in her face.
Evan's lip twitched, and the smile slipped from his expression. He slightly turned his head to the side as if to address the man behind him, a scowl forming between his thick brows. "Forgive me, darling. I've given specific instructions not to hurt you."
"She fucking knifed me!" growled the man a few feet away.
"And I will do it again," she replied under gritted teeth without taking her eyes off him.
Evan's brows raised, surprised by her response. She was surprised, too, as she remembered how she fought against her attacker. It seemed he didn't die from that—she didn't know if she wanted him to.
"Enough," Evan warned. "Where is it?"
Angela clenched her jaw hard. "I don't have it."
"Bullshit. I don't believe you one bit. I know you, Angela. I'm certain you kept it because that's what you are. You hold onto things even though they hurt you." Her breathing became ragged, and her hands formed into fists. Then he added, "You're a masochist."
"And you're a sadist. We've already agreed to stay away from each other—"
He raised a finger and waved it side to side, the smirk back on his face as he moved a step closer. "No… tsk. I never agreed to anything."
"Screw you. You assaulted me!"
In one second, Evan seized her face, squeezing hard that she whimpered. She tried to recoil from his touch, but he subdued her wrists with his other hand in an instant, keeping her in place. Then he glared at her. "As you deserved...for fucking opening your legs to the likes of McCarthy. I only did that to be even with you."
Moist gathered in her eyes as she tried to fight back but failed. "You shamed me in front of your friends just because of a video?"
"That fucking footage will end my family!"
He let go of her face only to grab her by the hair. Then she spat on his face.
"I told you I'm not using it as long as you stay away from me!" she snapped.
Evan shoved her to the side, and the men immediately grabbed her arms. "Tough luck, Sweetheart. I don't trust you. So unless you give it to me, you're not getting out of here.." He nodded at his men, and they dragged her back to the room—this time, taping her mouth and tying her wrists.
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