Dark Revenge Of A Jilted Bride: Till Life Do Us Part!-Chapter 68: Kidnapped II

Gianna’s heart stopped when the van came to a sudden halt.

The violent stillness that followed was worse than the motion had been. Worse than the laughter. Worse than the darkness. Worse than anything and everything.

For one suspended second, her body forgot how to breathe. Her chest locked, lungs burning, vision dimming as if the world itself had blinked out.

Then her heart started again. Too fast. Too loud. It slammed against her ribs like it was trying to escape her body, each beat sharp and painful, echoing in her ears until it drowned out everything else.

She could hear the men murmuring now, their voices muffled but unmistakably close, doors opening, heavy boots hitting the ground.

They were getting out. They were coming for her.

This was it.

The thought didn’t arrive dramatically. It settled cold and final in her bones.

This was the moment she hadn’t been waiting for.

It still felt like a dream. She? Kidnapped?

She didn’t think she had offended anyone enough to warrant being kidnapped. Worse: raped and killed.

Fear crept up her spine in waves. Not the sharp panic from before, but something slower, heavier. Anticipation of the worst. Of the evil she could feel pressing in from all sides.

Of hands on her skin that she didn’t want. Of pain she didn’t know how to imagine yet.

Was this the end of her story? The end of her life?

The question struck her so suddenly that it stole her breath again. Was this how it ended? In the back of a van, nameless men, no witnesses, no justice. No tomorrow.

A sob tore out of her chest before she could stop it.

She started crying again, quietly at first, then harder, her body folding inward as much as the cramped space allowed.

Her hands bunched tightly into the fabric of her palazzo pants, fingers clawing at the soft material as if it could anchor her, as if holding on hard enough might keep her here.

She wept terribly.

Not just from fear, but from grief. From the ache of things unaccomplished. Dreams half-built. Plans unwritten. Collections yet to be shown. Designs still trapped in her mind.

She thought of her family. Of her best friend. Of Athena’s laugh, Florence’s fussing, Areso’s teasing. Of the Thorne mansion...

She had tried to keep track of the route. She really had.

From the moment the van had moved, she’d counted turns in her head, listened for changes in the road, strained to memorize the rhythm of the drive in case—just in case—she escaped.

But fear had scrambled everything. The turns blurred together. Time stretched and snapped. She’d lost count somewhere between the laughter and the threat.

The back doors opened.

Light spilled in harsh and sudden from torchlights, blinding her for a second. She squeezed her eyes shut, tears streaking hot down her cheeks, then opened them again because not seeing felt worse.

They were leering at her. All three of them.

Their eyes crawled over her in a way that made her skin feel dirty already, like something had been taken without permission. Something sacred. Something hers.

That was when hope finally gave up.

She really was going to be invaded by these men. Used. Broken. Then killed.

Regret hit her with brutal clarity.

She thought of the Thorne guards she had told to stop following her. Of how she’d wanted space, independence.

She thought of the Rolex watch the twins had given her, the one she hadn’t worn ever, except during those months when they were pursued on every side by Athena’s enemies; the one she knew had a tracking device embedded inside.

She hated relinquishing control. And now she was going to pay for it.

Rough hands grabbed her arms, hauling her out of the van without ceremony. Her feet stumbled against the ground, nearly giving way beneath her, but they didn’t slow. They dragged her forward, her shoes scraping uselessly over concrete.

The building loomed ahead.

A warehouse. Large. Squat. Forgotten-looking. Its walls were stained with age and neglect, paint peeling, windows either boarded up or shattered.

Darkness clung to it like rot, the kind of place no one came to unless they had business no one wanted to see.

The night around them was eerily quiet. No traffic. No voices. Just the sound of insects and the scrape of boots and her own ragged breathing.

Inside was worse.

The darkness swallowed them whole as they crossed the threshold, thick and oppressive. The air smelled of dust and oil and old metal.

Her mind spiraled, conjuring images she didn’t want—of them killing her here, in the dark, where no one would ever find her. Her knees threatened to buckle.

Then a switch clicked, and light flooded the space. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

She flinched violently, blinking against the sudden brightness. The warehouse was empty, vast and hollow. The light revealed cracked concrete floors, high ceilings lost in shadow, and only a couple of worn-out chairs sitting incongruously in the middle of the space.

One of them shoved her into one.

She landed hard, the impact jarring her spine, knocking the air from her lungs.

Before she could recover, another man stepped forward with rope.

Her breath hitched as he began wrapping it around her wrists, pulling tight. Too tight. Pain flared instantly, sharp and biting. She struggled on instinct, but it only earned her a harsh yank that cut off circulation.

Her ankles followed. Then her torso. Rope biting into skin, digging in until she could barely breathe properly.

She felt every second of it. The humiliation. The terror. The helplessness.

Her heart pounded so hard she thought she might pass out, but she didn’t. She stayed painfully awake, tears streaming silently as her body was reduced to something immobile.

When he finished, he straightened and smiled down at her. "Start saying your last prayers."

"Please..."

The word barely left her lips before his hand closed around her breast—squeezing it cruelly—killing the plea in her throat.