scar

The rain poured heavily, cloaking the narrow roads in sheets of water and fog. Ivan’s black car swerved around a sharp corner, his grip on the wheel tight, jaw clenched. He’d been following a lead—one of his hacked signal sources had pinged. A burner phone used near the harbor. Ivan (muttering): “If it’s you… I’ll drag you into the ground.” But the moment he turned into the empty pier road—everything went black.
Unknown Location – Hours Later The first thing Ivan felt was a cold breeze. The second—the tight grip of rope binding his wrists to a metal headboard. He blinked against the darkness. Wood creaked. The air smelled of damp walls and dust. He was in a bedroom. Abandoned. And tied to the bed. Then he heard her voice.
Lena
Lena
Lena (softly): “I’ve been dreaming of this.”
She stepped into view, dressed in black, her hair tied up, her foot still slightly bandaged but steady now.
Ivan Volk
Ivan Volk
Ivan’s eyes narrowed immediately. “You’re insane.”

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