The man''s curt words and the tension in his body made it suddenly, horribly clear
to Anastasia what was about to happen.
In that instant, her world seemed to copse into darkness.
Someone was here to ruin herpletely, irreversibly.
But she knew, almost by instinct, this wasn''t Asher''s doing. If Asher wanted the
chip, he wouldn''t take this risk, not in such a brazen way. He was too careful-a
guy who knew how to disappear the second things got messy. Besides, these
men hadn''t mentioned the chip at all.
Anastasia screamed for help, her voice bouncing off grimy walls, but it was like
one of those nightmares where you shout and nothing happens. No one heard.
No one wasing.
She was helpless amb led to ughter.
Not even when Harmon had kidnapped her had she been this scared.
With no way out, she started bargaining. "Please, let me go. I''ll give you anything
-money, whatever you want!"
Pride and dignity didn''t matter anymore. All that mattered was survival.
She understood, deep down, if these men did what they wanted, her life would be
shattered forever.
"Save your energy forter," the man said, voice t and cold.
No taunting, no threats-just the cold, hard truth.
"Who sent you?" Anastasia croaked, her throat raw. "If you''re going to kill me, at
least tell me why."
"You don''t need to know," he answered. "Just cooperate. We''ll take some pictures
to prove we did the job, then we''re gone. Rx, sweetheart, there''s four of us.
"We''ll make sure you don''t forget it."
They were stone-faced, giving nothing away. To be sure she stayed put, they
forced pills down her throat.
Her mind went fuzzy, limbs heavy and useless, a bitter taste foaming in her mouth
from whatever they''d made her swallow.
She tried to pull off the blindfold, but hands pinned her arms behind her back. A
cold draft hit her as they tore at her clothes.
Everything blurred. She slipped in and out, reality mixing with hallucination. "No,
please, don''t... let me go... please..." she whispered over and over.
She heard a camera''s shutter snap.
Anastasia knew, with a sick certainty, she''d live with this stain forever.
Sounds faded. The world spun. She couldn''t tell what was real and what was just
nightmare.
It felt endless minutes or hours, she had no idea. Maybe she only imagined it,
but suddenly she heard a voice: "Anastasia, run! Snap out of it! Don''t worry about
me-just run!"
Was that Rowan? She couldn''t be sure. The world was a blur of chasing hands
and tearing voices.
Then another, softer voice: "Anastasia, don''t be scared, it''s me-Herman. I''m
sorry, I''m so sorry I''mte..."
Herman was crying.
Why was he crying?
Anastasia cked out, wishing she would never wake.
But even if she never opened her eyes again, reality wouldn''t let her go.
Within an hour, word of her disappearance hit the news. And soon after, the
photos started cropping up online.
Riverdale, usually as calm as a
summer night, was suddenly a
storm. Rumors flew-everyone
talking about the Elysian
Technologies boss''s wife missing
for an hour, and what could have
happened in that time.
The story grew, twisted, and spread like wildfire.
Anastasia didn''t wake up for two days.
When she finally did, she was home,
barely alive from the overdose. The
memories crashed over her,
relentless and raw. She broke down,
howling in grief.
Herman rushed in. "Anastasia, I''m here. I''m right here."
"Don''te near me!" she sobbed, curled under the covers, hugging herself tight
as tears streamed down her face. "I''m filthy..."
Herman crossed the room, pulled her into his arms. "Anastasia, please, it''s over.
You''re safe now."
"It''s not over," she choked out, digging her nails into her skin, desperate to scrub
away the memory.
The images wouldn''t stop. They dragged her down, again and again.
Herman just held her, whisperingforts he hoped she could hear.
He didn''t know exactly what had
happened that night. When he found
her, she wasn''t at the old barn like
the message had said. Instead, she
was copsed on the roadside, her
clothes torn and stained with blood.
The scratches and cuts on her were mostly from branches and brambles.
Dailey and his crew searched the woods and found the barn. The men who''d
taken Anastasia? All dead.
Only Anastasia knew what really happened.
Before Herman could piece it all together, those photos hit the inte.
They didn''t show anything explicit-but her battered, disheveled state told
everyone enough. The gossip was merciless.
You know what they say: even if you''re innocent, when mud sticks, it doesn''t
It all happened so fast-too fast for Herman to even guess who was behind it.