Page 42 of The Player

“Not yet,” Nigel admitted. “But we’re working on it. In the meantime, we need to keep Irene safe and figure out what she knows. If Valente was holding her, it means she found something—something important.”

Hope nodded, her mind racing. She had seen the fear in Irene’s eyes, the way she had recoiled at the slightest sound. Whatever she had been through, it had scarred her deeply. But if there was a chance that she held the key to taking down the Obsidian Cartel, they had to do everything in their power to protect her.

With that thought in mind, Hope made her way to the room where Irene was resting. The medic had finished treating her wounds and was packing up his supplies. Irene lay on the bed, her eyes closed, her breathing shallow but steady. She looked so small and fragile, and for a moment, Hope’s heart ached for her.

“She’s stable for now,” the medic said quietly as he approached Hope. “I’ve given her something to help her sleep. She’s been through a lot.”

“Thank you,” Hope replied, her voice equally soft. She watched as the medic left the room, leaving her alone with Irene.

Hope stood at the foot of the bed, watching the rise and fall of Irene’s chest, her mind still whirling with questions. What had Irene found? What had Valente done to her? And how could they use that information to stop the cartel?

Irene stirred in her sleep, a soft whimper escaping her lips. Hope moved closer; her heart heavy with sympathy. She wanted to reach out, to offer some kind of comfort, but she didn’t want to startle the woman. Instead, she pulled a chair up to the bedside and sat down, keeping a silent vigil as Irene slept.

Hours passed, the night dragging on as Hope sat in the dimly lit room. Her thoughts kept circling back to Seth, the worry gnawing at her insides like a relentless beast. She knew she had to stay strong, had to keep her focus, but the fear that something had happened to him was always there, lurking just beneath the surface.

Finally, as dawn began to break, Irene’s eyes fluttered open. She looked disoriented at first, her gaze unfocused as she tried to make sense of her surroundings. Then, as her eyes settled on Hope, a flicker of recognition crossed her face.

“You… you’re the one who… helped me,” Irene whispered, her voice hoarse.

Hope offered her a gentle smile. “Yes. We’re here to help you, Irene. You’re safe now.”

Irene’s expression crumpled, tears welling up in her eyes as the reality of her situation began to sink in. “I… I didn’t think anyone would come. I thought… I thought I was going to die in that place… or someplace worse.”

Hope reached out, taking Irene’s hand in hers. “You’re safe now,” she repeated, her voice filled with quiet reassurance. “We’re going to take care of you.”

Irene nodded, wiping away the tears before they spilled over and ran down her cheeks. “Thank you,” she whispered, her grip on Hope’s hand tightening as if she was afraid to let go.

Hope stayed with her, offering what comfort she could until Irene finally drifted back to sleep. When she was certain the woman was resting peacefully, Hope slipped out of the room and made her way back to the villa’s main living area.

Nigel was there, waiting for her, his expression thoughtful. “How is she?” he asked as Hope approached.

“Exhausted, but stable,” Hope replied. “She’s been through a lot, but I think she’s strong. She’ll get through this.”

Nigel nodded, his gaze shifting to the window, where the first light of dawn was filtering through the curtains. “I hope you’re right. We need her to be strong—because I think she may hold the key to everything.”

Hope frowned; curiosity piqued. “What do you mean?”

Nigel hesitated as if weighing his words carefully. “Irene is an investigative journalist. She was digging into the Citadel, looking into its connections with the Obsidian Cartel. From what we’ve been able to gather, she stumbled onto something big—something Valente didn’t want getting out. That’s why he held her captive.”

Hope’s mind raced, the pieces of the puzzle slowly coming together. “What did she find?”

“We don’t know yet,” Nigel admitted. “But whatever it was, it was important enough for Valente to keep her alive. She must have information that could be crucial to taking down the cartel.”

Hope felt a surge of determination. They had come too far, risked too much, to let this slip through their fingers. If Irene had information that could help them stop the Obsidian Cartel’s plans, they had to find out what it was—and fast.

“Then we need to talk to her,” Hope said, her voice firm. “As soon as she’s strong enough, we need to find out what she knows.”

Nigel nodded in agreement. “We will. But we need to tread carefully. She’s been through a lot, and we don’t want to push her too hard, too fast.”

Hope understood the need for caution, but the urgency of their mission weighed heavily on her mind. They were racing against the clock, and every moment they delayed brought the cartel closer to carrying out whatever plans they had in motion.

As the day wore on, Hope kept a close eye on Irene, checking in on her periodically as she slept. It wasn’t until late in the afternoon that Irene finally woke up, her expression clearer, her eyes more focused.

Hope was at her side in an instant, offering her a glass of water. “How are you feeling?”

Irene took the glass with trembling hands, taking a small sip before answering. “Better,” she said, her voice still weak but stronger than it had been. “Thank you.”

Hope sat down beside her; her expression gentle but serious. “Irene, I know you’ve been through a lot, and I don’t want to overwhelm you. But we need to know what you found—what Valente was trying to keep hidden.”

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