Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Clara was shoved into another car. The man in charge yanked a black cloth over her eyes, his voice low and threatening.

"Ms. Clara, you'd better cooperate. Otherwise, you're the one who's going to get hurt."

She didn't fight back, letting them blindfold her. She could tell the car was making sharp turns, maybe trying to confuse her. The men inside stayed silent the whole time-nothing like the sloppy thugs who'd come after her before. These guys felt different. More disciplined. More dangerous.

After what felt like an hour, someone dragged her out and slung her over their shoulder. She was carried for a short distance, then dropped hard onto the ground. An iron door slammed shut with a heavy clang, and suddenly, everything was quiet.

Her hands were tied behind her back. She took a deep breath, carefully rolled over, and managed to push herself up to sit. Using her shoulder, she worked the blindfold off, squinting into the pitch-black room. There was hardly any light-just a thin strip sneaking in from a high window, about three meters off the floor. Outside, she could see shadows moving back and forth. They were still keeping watch.

She glanced around, but her ankles were tied too, making every step a struggle. She stumbled, nearly smashing her knee on a pile of rocks. Gritting her teeth, she shuffled to the nearest stone and started rubbing her wrists against its jagged edge, hoping the rope would fray.

The kidnappers were patient. Too patient. They had to be waiting for instructions. No one had called yet, so they weren't doing anything.

That meant she still had a chance to get out.noveldrama

The second she felt the rope loosen, she bent down and untied her ankles. Then she limped over to the wall under the window, searching for any way out. The window was way too high-she'd never reach it, and there was nothing but rubble and broken boards scattered around.

She started searching through the mess and found a sharp stone. In the corner, she spotted a couple of broken wooden sticks. Quickly, she tied the sticks together with the rope, then secured the sharp stone to one end. It was clumsy, but it would work as a weapon.

Clara gripped it tight, testing its weight. Not bad. She moved behind the door and waited, heart racing, for someone to come in.

But time dragged on. An hour passed. Still no footsteps, no voices, nothing. Meanwhile, outside, the men were getting restless. Their voices grew tense. "What is she doing in there? Why aren't we getting any new orders?"

Their leader, cigarette balanced between his fingers, gave a cold laugh. “Calm down. They're still figuring things out. Once the money's in our hands, we're gone."

One of the others grumbled, “Don't see the point in all this. If they want her dead, we could end it right now. If they want her ruined, we could handle that too. What's there to talk about?"

The leader flicked ash onto the ground, his eyes hard. "Smart people don't care about lives. People are just chess pieces to them. They want what they want, and they¶ mess with anyone to get it. We're just the hired muscle."

The men spat on the ground, shaking their heads. One turned to Timmy.

"Timmy, you talk like you know a lot about rich folks. Didn't your family used to own a casino or something?"

Timmy paused, shrugged, and flicked his cigarette. "Just seen a lot, that's all."

He stared down at his phone, waiting for the call that would tell them what to do next.

Across town, Megan met with

Simon at a tucked-away café. The place was so dim and empty it felt like the world had forgotten it existed. Just the two of them, alone in the shadows.

Megan sat down and got right to the point. "Mr. Simon, I'm counting on you to help

us draw out Clara's boyfriend. You can do that, right?"