The hours stretch like a noose tightening around my neck, the weight of silence crushing me as I sit on the bed, every sound amplified in the stillness. My heart beats too fast, my skin prickling with an uneasy awareness of the camera in the corner. I know I’m being watched, studied, but the worst part is the waiting–the knowledge that someone will come, that something will happen, and I have no way to stop it.
When the door finally opens, it’s almost a relief, until I see him. Tobias. He strides in, his movements sharp and deliberate, the faint scrape of his shoes against the floor making my breath hitch. He shuts the door behind him with a soft click, the sound echoing in the room like a death knell.
“Paige Taylor,” he says, his voice smooth but carrying an edge of steel. He looks me over like I’m a piece of meat, something to dissect, to tear apart until there’s nothing left. “I’ll admit, I’m impressed. You lasted hours without so much as a word. But that’s about to change.”
I force myself to stay still, my hands clenched in my lap. “What do you want?” I ask, keeping my voice steady even as my stomach churns.
He takes a step closer, his smile thin and humorless. “Information. About your father. About the Crimson Circle’s plans. And you’re going to give it to me.”
“I don’t know anything,” I say firmly, though my voice wavers slightly at the edges. “I’m just their translator.”
Tobias lets out a low chuckle, the sound cutting through the air like a knife. “You’ve been in every meeting, heard every deal, every secret. Do you really expect me to believe you don’t know anything useful?” He leans in slightly, his presence suffocating. “You don’t strike me as stupid. So don’t insult my intelligence.”
“It’s the truth,” I snap, anger flaring despite my fear. “I don’t know anything that could help you.”
His smile fades, and he steps closer, his presence suffocating. “Loyalty is such a dangerous thing,” he murmurs, his voice low. “Especially when it’s misplaced.”
He reaches out, grabbing my chin in one hand, forcing me to look up at him. His grip is like iron, his fingers digging into my skin, and I bite back a gasp, refusing to flinch. “Do you think your father cares about you?” he asks, his tone sharp. “Do you think he’s planning some grand rescue for his little girl? Or are you finally realizing what you’ve always been to him?”
“You don’t know anything about me,” I spit, trying to pull away, but his grip tightens, his eyes narrowing.
“Oh, but I do,” he says, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “I know Marcus Taylor doesn’t see you as his daughter. He sees you as a tool. A means to an end. You were never anything more than a pawn to him.”
The words hit harder than they should, my chest tightening as I try to shove him away. But he doesn’t budge. Instead, he releases my chin and grabs my arm, pulling me to my feet with a force that makes me stumble.
“I don’t know anything,” I say again, my voice trembling. “You’re wasting your time.”
Tobias’s smile twists into something darker, crueler. “Then I’ll make sure it’s not wasted,” he says, and before I can react, he backhands me across the face.
Pain explodes across my cheek, my head snapping to the side as I stagger back, barely keeping my balance. My vision blurs for a moment, tears springing to my eyes, but I blink them away, refusing to let him see me break.
“Think harder,” he snaps, stepping forward and grabbing my shoulders, shoving me against the wall. The impact knocks the air from my lungs, and I gasp, struggling to push him away. His grip is unrelenting, his face inches from mine, his voice a low growl. “What do you know? Don’t make me ask again.”
“I don’t know anything!” I scream, shoving at his chest, my voice cracking with desperation. “I don’t!”
He slams me back against the wall again, harder this time, and I feel the sharp pain of my head hitting the surface. My vision swims, and I can taste blood on my lip, the metallic tang filling my mouth as he leans in closer, his breath hot and suffocating.
“I don’t believe you,” he hisses. “So I’ll ask one more time-”
The door bursts open, slamming against the wall, and Silas strides in, his voice cutting through the chaos. “That’s enough, Dad!”
Tobias pauses, his grip still tight on my shoulders as he glances back at Silas, irritation flashing across his face. “She’s not talking,” he says coldly. “She needs to be… encouraged.”
“She’s not going to talk if you hurt her too much,” Silas counters, his voice sharp but calm. “We need her alive and coherent if she’s going to be useful. You want her mouth shut permanently, or do you want answers?”
For a moment, Tobias doesn’t move, his jaw tightening as he considers his son’s words. Then, slowly, he releases me, stepping back. I collapse against the wall, gasping for air, my body trembling as I slide down to the floor. My hands fly to my arms, the bruises already forming there, the sting of his grip still fresh.
Tobias straightens, brushing off his suit with an air of casual indifference. “Fine,” he says coolly. “She can think about her answers a little longer. But this isn’t over.”
With that, he turns and walks out, his footsteps sharp and deliberate. Silas lingers for a moment, his gaze flicking to me, his expression unreadable. Then he follows, shutting the door
behind him with a soft click.
As the lock engages, I curl into myself, my breaths ragged, tears finally spilling down my cheeks. Every part of me aches, my body trembling with fear and exhaustion. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up, but one thing is certain: they’re not done with me yet.
