Shadows In Durango

Chapter 143

*****Sofia's POV*****

The room was silent except for the faint hum of the refrigerator. I sat on the hard stool, my fingers digging into its edges as I tried to steady my breathing ever since the doorbell had rang... The air in the storage room was stuffy, thick with the scent of old wood and the faint bitterness of spirits lining the shelves. It felt like a cage, a windowless void where time had slowed to a crawl. Vincent's words echoed in my mind: "Go with the flow... act scared." My body was already ahead of me. The nerves were buried in my gut, tightening into something unbearable.

The sound of approaching footsteps jolted me and I froze, my heart launching itself against my ribcage as the door creaked open. The same two men from before stepped inside - hired to be here to add an extra flare to the dreaded performance...

They had the kind of hard, vacant faces you'd expect from men who'd done things they didn't dare to speak of. One was shorter and more stocky, with a deep scar slicing across his cheek. The other was taller, a little leaner but just as imposing, his dark eyes assessing me coldly before flickering toward his partner.

"It's time," the scarred one said gruffly as my lip quivered at those gripping words.

I swallowed hard, trying to steady myself as I pushed up off the stool, my legs trembling faintly as they took my weight. I didn't trust my voice to answer them, so I just nodded instead.

The taller man stepped closer to me first, his movements almost cautious. He took my arm gently, his grip surprisingly light, as though he were afraid I'd shatter under his grip.

I blinked up at him, startled by the care. Then the stocky one moved in, taking hold of my other arm a little swifter.

As they began to lead me out, the taller man glanced down at me, his voice low and soft as he said, "I'm sorry... for what we're about to do. For how rough it's gonna look."

His words stopped me dead in my tracks. My head whipped up toward him, my mouth parting in disbelief. I hadn't expected that. Not from him.

"It's ok... thank you..." I breathed, knowing that none of us had a choice since we were already in way too deep...

The taller man's gaze softened just enough to let me know that he meant it. "We don't have a choice. Orders are orders."

For a moment, I couldn't speak. My lips trembled, but I forced myself to answer. "It needs to be done," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Do whatever it takes to make it believable." They exchanged a quick glance before nodding almost in unison.

We started walking again, the sound of our footsteps echoing off the tiled hallway as we ascended the stairs.

My breathing turned shallow with every step closer to the office, the space between my ribs feeling smaller and smaller.

This is it, I thought. He's up there. They're all up there.

Waiting for me...

By the time we reached the landing, my vision swam with nerves as my feet began to drag back against the floor.

I could hear murmured voices growing louder from behind the office door, low and indistinct. My pulse pounded around in my ears, and I didn't realise the two men had paused until I felt their grips tighten.

The scarred one exhaled sharply. "Remember - don't fight it too hard or it will just hurt more," he muttered, but I could see the tension set in his jaw. "We've got to sell it.' I nodded again, my throat tight.

The taller man eventually reached out his hand and opened the door, and in that moment, everything seemed to stop...

The office was larger than I'd expected, since I hadn't been up here before, yet it felt claustrophobic, the walls seeming to press inward as my eyes scanned the room quickly.

his broad frame filling the chair, his thinning blonde hair catching under the light as a sharp

burned into me with an intensity that turned my stomach black. He looked the same as he always

eyes darted frantically, as Kieran and Freddie stood up from beside him like sentinels as my

shade redder, his body more rigid and ready for violence at the drop

months of running, of hiding, of living with the constant fear that

they

front of

chest tightened painfully. I

two men holding me. "N-No- let me go now, I can't do this!" I gasped, my voice strangled as I thrashed and knew that each and every emotion I was

one of the men muttered to the other in a faux fury, his grip turning vice-like around my arms as they dragged me further into the room to display

cry, the words raw as I bucked

hammering.

was a

up and met my father's

at me like I was his daughter- he tilted his head at me like I was a possession kept in a museum display

smirked faintly. Freddie crossed his arms comfortably,

my eyes found Vincent amongst

sat near the far end, his hands clasped firmly on the table top in a relaxed manner, as though

unreadable. The Vincent who had held me just moments ago who had

me like I was nothing, like I was less than nothing now to

Then he laughed.

sound that sent ice down my spine. "She's a feisty one, isn't she? I think that's why we like her so much..." he drawled out, being the first to speak above my sobs, the mocking tone slicing through the air like a

it was just an act. It's all part of the plan, I reminded

it felt way too

said you had roughed her up a bit eh?!" My father asks, eyeing Vincent and his father next, but

inconvenience to him, as though he was already bored of me being here. "What'd I tell you about behaving, Sofia? Crying and throwing yourself around like that is the reason you've ended up in that state to begin with!" he sneered, the

at me. But I forced myself to hold his gaze, to see through the mask he was wearing. Somewhere

The one who cared.

one who promised to protect

me stayed still, their grips tight as

suffocating, pressing down on me like the walls of a shrinking room. My father studied me with a sick satisfaction, his smile widening just enough to

- liked

against the edge of the table. "She's still a fighter, isn't she?" he mused, his voice

but I didn't let myself break —at least not completely. I couldn't. Vincent's earlier words replayed in my mind:

every nerve in my

her down, let me look at her!" my father ordered suddenly, his voice sharp and cutting as he motioned to a free chair near

panic, the two men holding me didn't hesitate as they pulled me forward, forcing me toward the lone chair as I fought to get

buckled, but they didn't let me fall; they shoved

grip for the briefest moment, almost imperceptibly. It was enough for me

alone drained every ounce of comfort from the

table as he steepled his fingers and leaned closer to me. "Let's have a little