Page 79 of Deceptive Vows
The blow came from behind—a coward’s move, and a heavy one.
My knees buckled, but I didn’t fall. Not yet.
A second hit dropped me to the asphalt, blood roaring in my ears.
As the dark pulled at the edges of my vision, I fought it—because she was still out there.
I couldn’t die. Not until she was safe.
The SUV carrying Thea peeled away, disappearing around a corner as moretires squealed. Through the encroaching darkness, the sharp crack of gunfire filled the air. The men above me hesitated, turning toward the commotion. Their moment of distraction was the last thing I registered before consciousness slipped away entirely.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
THEA
When I woke,I knew two things immediately—I was caged, and I was no longer alone.
Suffocating darkness pressed in, the sharp tang of damp concrete clogging my throat. The air was thick and stale, carrying the faint stench of unwashed bodies and fear. My head throbbed, my mouth dry as cotton. My silk wedding dress was gone, replaced by plain, rough clothing—thin cotton pants and a shapeless top that scraped against my skin. I wouldn't allow myself to delve too deep into how my clothes were changed.
As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, detailsemerged from the shadows. I was in a cell—no, a cage—approximately eight feet square. Metal bars surrounded me, including above. Beyond my enclosure was a larger space—a warehouse of some kind, with high ceilings and distant windows that let in only the faintest hint of moonlight.
Across from me, other cages lined the wall, each containing a huddled figure. Women. Girls. The missing ones we’d been searching for.
I sat up slowly, battling a wave of nausea. To my right, a young woman stared at me with wary eyes. No older than twenty, her thin face was still beautiful, her dark hair a tangled mess around her shoulders.
“You’re awake,” she whispered, her accent Eastern European—Polish, maybe. “We thought you might be dead.”
“Not yet,” I rasped. “Where are we?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. They brought me here three days ago. Or maybe four.” She gestured vaguely toward the other cages. “Some have been here longer.”
I scanned the room again, taking inventory. Ten cages including mine, each occupied. Some of the figures were so still, I couldn’t tell if they weresleeping or worse.
What struck me most was that we were all dressed the same, down to our bare feet. A nauseating uniformity that stripped us of identity, reducing us to interchangeable merchandise.
“Who are you?” the young woman asked.
I hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. “My name is Thea. I was... taken.”
“On your wedding day.” She nodded toward my hand, where my platinum band still gleamed, surprisingly not stolen.
“They left it,” I murmured, more to myself than to her.
“They left mine too.” She held up her own hand, where a modest gold band encircled her finger. “Said it makes us more valuable. Especially if we’re ‘new.’“ The disgust in her voice was palpable.
My stomach turned at the implication. “What’s your name?”
“Elena,” she replied. “I was a ballerina with the National Warsaw Ballet. Until...” She trailed off, gesturing helplessly at our surroundings.
A ballerina. Marco had mentioned one specifically to Nazar.
Nazar.
The memory struck without warning: Nazarbleeding and outnumbered but still on his feet, refusing to fall, fighting to protect me until the end. I refused to let myself think about the end. I gritted my teeth, forcing the grief aside. I couldn’t afford it. Not now.
“There are cameras,” Elena whispered, nodding toward the corners of the room. “And guards. They come in to check on us four times a day. Bring food and water twice.”
I followed her gaze, counting three visible cameras. There would be more I couldn’t see from this angle.
