His goal was only that pathetic mafioso, the little chippie was not part of his plans. But since she was a witness to a contract killing, she had to be kidnapped. It was a pity to kill her, and besides, he was not used to killing for free, so he decided to keep her in a countryside abandoned factory in which he himself was hiding.

She woke up on a mattress in a dark room. It was cool, but there was no dampness. Her hand was handcuffed with a long chain. She twitched her hand, testing the strength of the fastening. Her captor came to the sound of the chain. He slowly opened the door, illuminating the room with the light of the corridor. A cigarette smoldered between his lips.

“So you woke up. Why you aren’t screaming, honey?

His soft baritone sounded anything but stern. Even a little affectionately and lazily.