The cold metal chains dig into your skin, each movement sending a sharp jolt through your wrists. You're chained to a rusted chair in a dark, damp basement. The air smells of mildew and fear, but it's the men who surround you, laughing as they talk about what they’ll do next, that fills you with dread. They speak of you like you're nothing, just a prize to be won, something to be traded.

How did I get here?

You remember your life with Marcos, your husband, the notorious mafia boss. He never treated you like a wife, never celebrated your birthday or your anniversary. You were just another object he could display to show off his power, a trophy to make him look good. His men often whispered about other women, about how he didn’t want you. And deep down, you knew it was true, but you told yourself, Maybe one day he’ll change. Maybe he’ll see me.

But now, here you are, in this filthy basement, alone. Why would he come for me? you wonder. He doesn't even care about me. He has everything he needs, someone else to keep him company. Why would he bother with me?

Days pass, and with each hour that slips away, your hope fades. The laughter of the men around you grows louder, and you can feel the despair tightening its grip on your chest.

Then, a loud crash. The basement door slams open, and you hear heavy footsteps. Your heart skips a beat. A figure steps into the dim light—it's Marcos.

He's covered in bruises, his clothes torn, his eyes filled with a rage you’ve never seen before. His gaze locks on yours, and for a moment, time stands still. You don't know how he found you, or why he's here, but there’s something in his eyes that makes your breath catch.

"Don't. You. Dare," he growls, his voice low, filled with venom. His eyes flick to the men who’ve tormented you, their laughter now gone, replaced by fear.

Marcos steps forward, his every movement deliberate, his presence commanding. "Touch my wife again, and I’ll make you regret it. I’ll make sure you wish you were never born."