Pov.: Amy
"Gianna, run!" I heard a woman's voice cry out, and soon I saw her lying on the ground.
I ran through the forest, consumed with fear, after witnessing that brute take my mother's life by slitting her throat. I dashed across the woodland, tears blurring my vision, my bare feet aching from wounds inflicted by hours of flight. The voices of several men and my father's voice resonated in my ears; I could hear them trailing behind me, their presence drawing ever nearer.
Suddenly, I halted—I was exhausted and lost—but ceased my running upon sighting a kind of cliff before me. The height was formidable, and in fear, I hesitated to leap. But stepping backwards, I felt something warm, and the last thing I saw was myself tumbling into oblivion.
When I opened my eyes, I was in a white room, with no recollection of my ordeal, having even forgotten my own name. Pain thrived throughout my body. Minutes later, a man in a white coat arrived, peppering me with questions to which I had no answers.
Seeing my confusion and fear, he explained that a couple had found me and brought me to the hospital. Shortly after he left, the couple entered the room, introducing themselves and recounting how they had discovered me. Walking through the forest where I had fled for my life, they had heard a splash, found me unconscious in a lake, and quickly transported me to medical care.
Awakening, I realized it was another memory of my past. Looking around, I was in a filthy basement, chains held me to the ceiling, and the walls bore scratches, marks, and old drawings that caught my eye. As I examined them, I heard footsteps—two or three individuals approaching.
They unlocked the cell and entered; one approached me, forced my chin up, and made me look at him.
"I never expected you to have survived, cursed girl," said the man behind the youth grasping my face, venom in his tone.
"I never imagined I'd be facing you again," I replied, unnervingly calm.
The hate in the eyes of the person before me tried to intimidate me, but his gaze inexplicably made me laugh.
"Isn't it nice to know your little sister is still alive?" I asked, locking eyes with my brother.
"You should have died long ago, but if not then, you will now," he declared, brandishing a dagger.
"Don't do it!" came a shout from a man behind him; his voice alone told me who he was.
"But father, she must die," my brother insisted, looking at him.
"I think others are more deserving of death, but no one values my opinion," I remarked disinterestedly, and my brother turned and slapped me hard.
"Quiet, bitch!" he exclaimed.
"HAHAHAHA, is that the best you can do? HAHAHAHA, you're pathetic," I cackled, mocking his strength—or lack thereof—as I thought back to when that same man tried to kill me.
"We'll see how long you laugh when I start having my fun with you," said my father menacingly.
"Listen here, you wretched filth," I spat, voice severe and threatening, "I assure you that I will escape from this place and when I do, I hope you're prepared. Because I will kill that harlot you're with, your bastard son too, and lastly... you and I have some unfinished business to settle. Now, unless you have any other reason to be in my cell, I'd ask you kindly to leave," I concluded with an insincere smile that ignited their rage.
"Cursed woman," my brother seethed with hatred, ready to strike me again when he was stopped.
"Don't dirty your hands with her now, we'll have time later," stated the wretched man who had sired me, before both of them left.
"See you tomorrow, little sister," he said smugly, attempting to instill fear, but only succeeding in making me feel at ease.
Once their footsteps faded, I began to strategize my escape, and the prospect of an unforgiving revenge filled my thoughts.
"Perhaps I should conduct a human hunt with them, just as that devil did with my mother and sisters," I pondered, the idea not seeming so terrible for a brief moment.
Point of view: Helen
After informing my boss about everything that had happened, I made my way to the hospital director's office. Upon arrival, I sought permission to take leave from work, and he agreed, granting me two weeks of vacation. I hurried out before he could change his mind, quickly changed clothes, and headed home. There, my investigation into Amy's father and their past commenced.
I looked up the man, a businessman with a wife and a son roughly Amy's age. But I also learned that before this new family, he had another—a wife named Alessandra De Angelis and nine daughters. Digging deeper, I discovered a tragic news story: an enemy of the family had savagely killed all of them, leaving no survivors.
"The bastard is posing as a grieving husband and father while already having started anew with his mistress," I thought angrily.
I found where the man currently lived with his family—surprisingly, in the Sun Empire mansion where he had resided with his previous family.
"That's it! She must be held captive in the same place she was as a child!"
My anger deepened upon seeing Francesco De Angelis' photograph. I vowed to make him pay for his crimes against the De Angelis family.
I immediately updated my boss on my findings, and she pledged to send help to find Amy while I opted to go with a small team, shocking her to learn they were Luka's subordinates. We coordinated the rescue plan, and after hanging up, I called Luka to tell him everything was ready for the trip. He informed me his men were prepared to leave with me at once.
Point of view: Luka
Helen's news of Amy's abduction—and her request for my men's assistance in finding her—spurred me into action. Even though I was loath to admit it, Amy mattered to me, and I couldn't explain why. So, I reviewed the hospital's security footage, identifying the kidnappers, one of whom I recognized to my dismay.
"So it was you, you despicable scum," I thought furiously, wondering what Amy's connection was with such vermin.
My research led to Francesco De Angelis, a man I knew was far from decent, despite some business dealings. The article detailing his family's murder made him out to be a sorrowful father and husband—a portrayal I found entirely unbelievable.
Scrolling further, I stumbled upon a family photograph of the De Angelises. Among the women, I spotted a young girl who seemed familiar. On closer inspection, I realized—the girl was my wife as a child. Seeing the matron of the family, I could hardly believe it was her.
My investigation revealed that Francesco De Angelis was seeking his youngest daughter, rumored to be alive.
"So they abducted her for that—only this woman knows where my wife is, and those villains will stop at nothing for that knowledge. I have to rescue her before she reveals anything, lest they find my wife and try to eliminate her once and for all."
The man in the video was Dante, Francesco's son, a man who thought he ruled the underworld when in actuality he was nothing. His arrogance turned my stomach, and although I yearned to kill him, my parents had forbidden it. However, thoughts of my wife led me to understand why they had been secretly searching for her.
"I'll find you, and I swear if those repugnant people have harmed so much as a hair on your head, they'll beg for death as they endure the torment I'll bestow upon them," I declared, boiling with rage.
In that moment, Helen called. She probably had more information.
Phone call:
"Helen," I answered.
"I've got a lead on her whereabouts. I need your men to come immediately," she said.
"I'll send them right now," I replied, stern tone conveying urgency. "Make sure you bring her back unharmed."
"Are you worried?" she teased, a note of mockery in her voice.
"Just bring her back. Goodbye," I said, and hung up the phone.
End of call.
I gathered my men, and once ready, I sent them to Helen's home, hoping they would arrive in time to save Amy from those who had wronged her.
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