The lights went out.
Not flickered.
Not dimmed.
Out.
Total darkness swallowed the cabin, thick and immediate.
Isabella froze.
Her heart slammed so violently she thought it might tear itself apart.
"Nolan?" she whispered.
No answer.
Juan stirred behind her on the couch.
"Mommy?" he murmured.
Her blood ran cold.
She moved instantly, crossing the room, scooping him into her arms.
"I'm here, baby," she whispered. "Don't move."
Her phone was dead.
No signal.
No flashlight.
Nothing.
The silence pressed in around them.
Then—
A soft sound.
Not a footstep.
Not a voice.
A breath.
Right behind her.
Isabella spun.
Too late.
A hand clamped over her mouth.
Another wrapped around her waist, crushing her against a solid chest.
Juan screamed.
Isabella thrashed, kicking, clawing, biting.
A sharp sting hit her neck.
Her vision exploded into white.
She screamed into the hand.
And then—
Nothing.
She woke to pain.
Not sharp.
Not immediate.
Dull.
Heavy.
Every muscle aching.
Her head throbbed.
Her wrists were tied.
She opened her eyes slowly.
Concrete ceiling.
Single bulb.
Swaying.
She sucked in a breath.
Cold.
She tried to move.
Chains rattled.
Panic surged.
"Hello, Isabella."
Her stomach dropped.
Marcus stepped into the light.
Smiling.
Relaxed.
Like they were old friends meeting for coffee.
She lunged.
The chains snapped her back.
Pain ripped through her shoulders.
"Don't," Marcus said calmly. "You'll dislocate something."
Her chest heaved.
"Where is my son?" she demanded.
Marcus tilted his head. "Safe."
Her voice shook. "I want to see him."
"No," Marcus replied.
Tears burned her eyes.
"You promised," she whispered.
Marcus smiled faintly. "I promised nothing."
Her breath came in short, violent gasps.
"Why?" she whispered. "Why me?"
He considered that.
Then shrugged.
"You're interesting," he said.
She laughed hysterically. "You kidnapped me because I'm interesting?"
"No," Marcus said. "I kidnapped you because you are loved."
Her heart clenched.
"And I want to understand that," he continued. "From the inside."
She spat at him.
He didn't move.
Didn't flinch.
Just smiled.
Nolan felt it.
A wrongness in his bones.
A hollow in his chest.
He was in the city.
Surrounded by cameras.
Surrounded by noise.
Surrounded by lies.
And he knew.
Something had broken.
He grabbed his phone.
No signal.
He tried again.
Nothing.
Panic flooded him.
He called Nathan.
Straight to voicemail.
"Something's wrong," he muttered.
He turned, already moving.
Isabella tested the chains.
Metal.
Bolted.
Not breaking.
She closed her eyes.
Don't panic.
Think.
Marcus sat on a chair across from her.
"So," he said. "Tell me about love."
She glared. "Go to hell."
He smiled. "Already there."
She said nothing.
"Why him?" Marcus asked. "Why Nolan?"
She laughed bitterly. "You wouldn't understand."
"Try me."
She hesitated.
Then—
"He saw me," she said quietly.
Marcus raised a brow.
"Not as an object," she continued. "Not as a prize. As a person."
Marcus nodded slowly.
"And you think that makes him special?"
"Yes," she said.
Marcus smiled.
"That makes him weak."
Her jaw tightened.
"You think you know everything," she said. "But you don't know love."
Marcus leaned forward.
"I know obsession," he said. "And obsession is stronger."
She shook her head. "No."
"Yes," he replied. "Because obsession doesn't require permission."
Her blood ran cold.
Hours passed.
No food.
No water.
Just questions.
And silence.
And his eyes.
Watching.
Measuring.
Studying.
She hated him.
And that frightened him.
He wanted fear.
She was giving him defiance.
That wasn't what he wanted.
Nolan arrived at the cabin at dawn.
The place was destroyed.
Broken door.
Scuffed floor.
Blood on the wall.
Nathan was already there.
Gun in hand.
"She's gone," Nathan said.
Nolan collapsed to his knees.
"No," he whispered.
Nathan crouched beside him.
"They took her," he said. "Not Juan."
Nolan looked up sharply. "Juan?"
Nathan nodded. "He's safe. We moved him last night."
Nolan's chest heaved.
"She's alone," Nolan whispered.
Nathan's eyes hardened. "Not for long."
Marcus returned to Isabella with a tray.
Water.
Bread.
She ignored it.
He placed it down.
"You need strength," he said.
"For what?" she whispered.
"For the next part."
Her heart slammed.
"What next part?"
Marcus leaned in.
"You," he said, "are going to speak to Nolan."
Her breath hitched.
"No."
"Yes," Marcus replied. "You're going to tell him exactly what I say."
She shook her head.
He sighed.
Then he nodded.
A door opened.
Two men dragged someone in.
Isabella's heart stopped.
Her mother.
Bruised.
Shaking.
Alive.
Isabella screamed.
"Stop!" she sobbed. "Please—"
Marcus raised a hand.
They stopped.
"Now," he said calmly, "you will cooperate."
Her entire body shook.
"Don't touch her," Isabella cried.
Marcus smiled. "Then do what I ask."
Her voice broke. "What do you want?"
"A message," he replied.
Her chest burned.
"You're going to tell Nolan," Marcus continued, "that you chose me."
Her heart shattered.
"No," she whispered.
Marcus gestured.
One of the men lifted a hand.
Her mother sobbed.
"Please," Isabella cried. "I'll do it. I'll do it."
Marcus nodded.
"Good."
They gave her the phone.
Her hands shook violently.
She could barely hold it.
The screen lit up.
Nolan.
His face.
Bleeding.
Desperate.
Her chest collapsed.
"Isabella?" he whispered. "Where are you?"
She broke.
"I'm here," she sobbed.
"Are you okay?" he demanded.
She hesitated.
Marcus's eyes burned into her.
"Tell him," Marcus whispered.
She swallowed.
"I'm… fine," she whispered.
Nolan's eyes narrowed.
"Isabella."
Her throat closed.
"Say it," Marcus murmured.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
"I chose him," she whispered.
Nolan froze.
"What?" he breathed.
"I chose him," she repeated, tears streaming. "I don't want you anymore."
Nolan's face shattered.
Her heart died.
"Isabella," he whispered. "What are you saying?"
She sobbed.
"I don't love you," she forced out.
The words ripped her apart.
Marcus smiled.
Nolan stared.
Unmoving.
Then—
His face went blank.
Dead.
"Is that what you want me to believe?" he asked quietly.
Her breath hitched.
"Yes," she whispered.
Silence.
Then—
"Then you don't know me," Nolan said.
The line went dead.
Isabella collapsed.
Sobbing.
Marcus applauded softly.
"Beautiful," he said.
She screamed at him.
"You're a monster!"
He smiled.
"No," he replied. "I'm honest."
Miles away, Nolan stared at the dead phone.
His hands were shaking.
His face was empty.
Nathan watched him.
"She didn't mean it," Nathan said.
Nolan didn't blink.
"She was forced," Nathan continued.
Nolan's voice was flat.
"I know."
Nathan hesitated.
"Then why do you look like that?"
Nolan lifted his gaze.
Cold.
Dead.
Because now—
"I stop playing," he said.
Marcus leaned in close to Isabella.
"Do you know what you just did?" he whispered.
She sobbed. "I saved her."
Marcus smiled.
"You taught me exactly how to break him."
And far away—
Nolan loaded a gun.