The cold, stale air of the abandoned textile factory clung to the broken walls, and the dim light hanging overhead barely illuminated the vast, empty space. The only warmth in the room came from the slight flicker of Olivia’s breath, her chest rising and falling unevenly where she sat tied to the chair, her wrists bound with coarse rope. Blood crusted at the corner of her split lip, her eyes glazed with exhaustion, but still alert—still fighting.
And then there was Victoria—her perfectly painted lips still twisted into a cruel smile, her eyes gleaming with wicked satisfaction. Her dark hair was swept into a neat chignon, not a strand out of place, as if the chaos surrounding her was beneath her concern. She stood with the poise of a queen surveying her captive kingdom, her hands elegantly clasped in front of her, exuding an air of twisted grace.
Ezra Birmingham, however, was anything but calm.
His eyes were locked on Olivia, dark and stormy, brimming with silent fury. The sight of her bruised face, the blood marring her skin, ignited a wildfire of rage in his chest. His hand trembled slightly around the gun he held, not from fear, but from the barely-contained violence simmering beneath the surface.
The moment he’d stepped into the factory and seen the gun pressed to Olivia’s temple, the world had narrowed into a single, violent certainty. No one was walking out of here with her except him.
Victoria took a graceful step forward, tilting her head as if observing a piece of fine art.
“Ezra,” she purred, her voice as smooth as silk, but sharpened with cruel delight. “You’ve come.”
His gun remained steady, aimed directly at her. His knuckles were white, his finger flexing subtly over the trigger.
“Let her go,” he demanded, his voice low and lethal.
Victoria’s lips parted into a slow smile, her eyes gleaming with sadistic amusement.
“You really should say ‘please,’ darling. Manners, after all, make the man.”
Ezra’s jaw tightened.
“I won’t ask again.”
Victoria’s eyes flickered with delight, unfazed by his threat. She turned her gaze slowly to Olivia, who was watching through heavy-lidded eyes, her breathing uneven, her lips slightly parted. The sight of her trembling hands clenched into fists against the ropes made Ezra’s stomach twist violently.
“Oh, Ezra.” Victoria’s voice dripped with mock disappointment. “You’re making this so terribly dull. I thought you’d put up more of a fight. Where’s your signature charm? Your clever, cutting words? Or are you too rattled by your pretty little pet’s condition?”
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
“Tell me… how much is she worth to you?”
Ezra’s hand shook slightly at her words, his heart slamming violently against his chest.
More than you’ll ever know.
“Untie her,” he ordered, his voice lower now, filled with barely-contained wrath.
Victoria’s smile widened, her expression glimmering with sadistic satisfaction.
“Oh, I think not.” She motioned subtly with her hand, and the man behind Olivia pressed the gun harder against her temple.
Olivia flinched slightly, her eyes screwing shut. Her chest rose sharply as she sucked in a breath, trembling beneath the barrel.
Ezra’s heart stopped. For a split second, he couldn’t breathe.
Victoria’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction at the brief flicker of vulnerability she caught on his face.
“There it is,” she whispered, leaning in slightly. “Fear.”
The corner of her lips curled upward, her eyes glittering with triumph.
“You think you’re strong, Ezra, but you’re not. You’re weak. You always have been.” She stepped closer, her voice dripping with venom. “You let that little girl get under your skin. You let her make you soft. Look at you now… at my mercy.”
Ezra’s eyes burned with rage, but he kept his gun steady, the barrel unwavering.
“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he warned.
Victoria’s smile widened.
“Oh, darling.” She laughed softly, the sound mocking and melodic. “I wrote the rules.”
Her hand moved with feline grace, slipping into the pocket of her fitted coat. And before Ezra could register the movement, she suddenly withdrew a small, sleek pistol, pointing it directly at Olivia’s chest.
Ezra’s entire body went rigid, his eyes narrowing into lethal slits.
“Put it down.” His voice was nothing more than a deadly whisper.
But Victoria only smiled.
“Don’t you understand, Ezra?” she breathed, her eyes glittering with malice. “You can’t win.”
And then, with a sharp flick of her wrist, she pulled the trigger.
For a split second, Ezra’s entire world fractured.
His vision blurred, and his stomach twisted violently. A flash of raw panic exploded in his chest, the sound of the shot reverberating through his skull.
But the bullet didn’t hit Olivia.
It slammed into the wooden beam directly behind her, the splinters raining down onto the cracked concrete floor. A warning shot.
Victoria smirked, tilting her head slightly as if enjoying the way Ezra’s face had hardened with blind fury.
“That was for fun,” she whispered sweetly, her eyes narrowing. “The next one won’t miss.”
And then Victoria turned the gun back on Olivia, her eyes gleaming with malicious glee.
“Now… let’s see how far you’re willing to go, Ezra.”
Ezra didn’t think.
He moved.
In one swift, calculated motion, he fired.
The shot rang out like a thunderclap in the cavernous factory, the sharp crack splitting the air. Victoria’s eyes widened slightly with surprise, but she moved faster than he anticipated. With feline grace, she twisted to the side, and the bullet grazed her arm, tearing through fabric and skin, but missing her chest.
“Ah!” She staggered back slightly, her face contorting into a snarl, her eyes flashing with raw hatred.
Ezra didn’t hesitate.
He lunged.
In a single stride, he closed the distance between them. Victoria raised her gun instinctively, but he was faster. His hand shot out, slamming into her wrist, twisting violently until the gun clattered to the ground.
Victoria let out a furious hiss, her eyes narrowing into thin slits of rage. Without hesitation, she slashed out with her nails, clawing at his face. Her sharp, manicured nails caught the edge of his cheek, drawing blood.
But Ezra didn’t flinch.
The pain only fueled him.
With a brutal shove, he slammed her against the rusted metal column, his hand fisting in her hair, yanking her head back violently.
Victoria shrieked, her eyes wide with raw fury, her teeth bared like a feral animal.
“You think you can stop me?” she spat, her voice dripping with venom. She lashed out blindly, her hands clawing at his wrist, but he was stronger.
Ezra’s grip was merciless, his knuckles white, his teeth clenched. His chest heaved with labored breaths, his eyes filled with nothing but cold, merciless steel.
“You wanted to see how far I’d go?” he growled, his voice low and lethal.
His fingers tightened in her hair, forcing her head back further until her neck strained painfully.
“I’ll show you.”
Without hesitation, he pressed the barrel of his gun against her chest.
Her eyes widened slightly—just for a fleeting second—as a flicker of genuine fear passed over her face.
But Ezra didn’t hesitate.
He pulled the trigger.
The shot rang out through the hollow factory, echoing sharply against the stone walls.
Victoria’s eyes widened with shock, her lips parting soundlessly as she staggered back. She clutched her chest, blood staining her pristine white blouse. Her breathing turned shallow, her expression contorted with disbelief.
Her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the cold, unforgiving concrete floor. Her breath came in broken, wheezing gasps as she clutched the bullet wound, her hands slick with blood.
Ezra’s hand trembled slightly as he lowered the gun, his chest heaving violently. The world was a deafening silence.
And then, he turned to Olivia.
Her eyes—wide and brimming with relief and disbelief—locked onto his.
“Ezra…” she whispered brokenly, her voice barely above a breath.
Without a word, he moved to her. His hands, shaking with adrenaline, worked quickly to untie the ropes from her wrists, his fingers trembling as he freed her.
The moment she was loose, she collapsed into his arms. He caught her, holding her tightly against his chest, his hands tangling in her hair, his breath shaking against her temple.
And as they clung to each other amidst the chaos, the last vestiges of Victoria’s power bled away into the cold, broken factory floor.