Andrew could barely feel his limbs. His wrists were tightly bound behind him, and the coarse rope dug into his skin, leaving angry red welts. He could hear the sound of dripping water echoing throughout the cold, damp dungeon. He didn't know how long he'd been there—minutes, hours, days. His mind felt foggy, and his body ached from the struggle he'd put up against his captors. His face was bruised, and his muscles were stiff from being forced into the same uncomfortable position. The darkness was oppressive, wrapping around him like a thick, smothering blanket. He tugged at the ropes again, his arms straining as he tried to break free. The rough surface of the rope only seemed to tighten around his wrists, the pain intensifying with every futile attempt. His breath came out in ragged gasps as his frustration grew. "No, no, no," he whispered, shaking his head, his voice hoarse and barely audible. "I have to get out of here."He could feel his eyes welling up, his vision blurring as t

Lisa opened her eyes groggily to the soft morning light filtering in through the curtains. She blinked, rubbing her eyes, feeling the weight of sleep still pulling at her. She turned to her side, expecting to see Andrew asleep beside her, but the bed was empty. Her gaze drifted to the bedside table, where she saw Andrew's phone and his briefcase still in place."That's strange," Lisa muttered, her brows knitting together. Andrew was usually up and out early, his phone and briefcase in hand as he prepared for the day ahead. She pushed herself up, stretching her arms and yawning, wondering if perhaps he was in the bathroom. "He must be getting ready."But when she went to the bathroom and opened the door, her heart sank—Andrew wasn't there. The bathroom was empty, the lights still off, the air still. A chill ran down her spine, an uneasy feeling settling in her stomach. Lisa's gaze shifted back to the bed, and she noticed Andrew's phone flashing with a notification. Her worry deepened.

Patrick rounded a corner and spotted Lisa sitting on the swing in the garden, her shoulders trembling with silent sobs. The sight struck Patrick like a thunderclap, and he quickened his pace, crossing the soft, lush grass until he reached her.“Madam, are you alright?” he asked softly, his voice laced with concern. Lisa looked up, her face streaked with tears, her eyes reflecting a depth of pain that made Patrick’s heart ache. “No, Patrick, I’m not alright,” she said, her voice breaking. “What am I going to do now that Andrew is gone?”“Shh,” he soothed, gently placing a hand on her back as he sat beside her on the swing. “It’s going to be fine. I promise I’ll find him.”“Find him?” she echoed, disbelief coloring her tone. “How can you possibly do that?”The question hung heavy in the air, and Patrick felt a surge of panic at the reality of her words. He hadn’t thought it through. “I—I’ll figure something out. I just need to think clearly.” “Think clearly? He’s been kidnapped, Patri

Patrick’s heart pounded as he hurried through the quiet streets. The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky with deep purples and oranges, but Patrick had no time to admire the beauty of the evening. He had a mission, and every second counted.Reaching his small house situated on the edge of the estate, Patrick quickly unlocked the door and stepped inside. The familiar scent of old books and leather greeted him, but tonight, his sanctuary felt different—more like a war room than a home. He closed the door behind him, double-checking the lock before making his way to his study. He sank into his chair, placing Andrew’s phone on the desk in front of him.He switched on the small desk lamp and took a deep breath, steadying his nerves. He had a hunch that there was something important on Andrew’s phone—something that could help him make sense of all this chaos.He grabbed the phone and went through Andrew's filtered messages. There they were—messages Andrew had deemed as unimportant or

"Hey, pssst, Andrew, wake up, I brought some food for you." Andrew opened his eyes grudgingly and looked toward the gate. He let out a heavy sigh when he realised that it was Emilia. "Emilia, what are you doing here?" Andrew asked indifferently as he sat up and rested his back on the cold wars, the sensation of his warmth body against the ice cold wall sent a chilling sensation to course through his body. "Didn't you hear me. I said I brought you food." She repeated, sticking the tupperware that contained food through the gate. "Emilia, I don't think you should come here anymore." Andrew said, looking away from her. "What are you talking about?" A frown settled on Emilia's face. "You know that you're risking your life by bringing food for me—" "Oh come off that." Emilia discharged what he had just said with a wave of hand, stopping him from concluding his sentence. "It's the truth and you know that. Your—boyfriend hates my gut and he's definitely going to hurt you if he catche