Cruel Love

Chapter 8

The exhaustion clung to Aria like a shroud. Sleep had been a distant visitor the previous night, chased away by a persistent feeling of unseen eyes burning into her back. The silence of her empty apartment had amplified the paranoia, every creak of the floorboards sending shivers down her spine.

At work, the fluorescent lights seemed a shade harsher, the chatter of customers grating on her raw nerves. Catherine, her co-worker, immediately noticed the dark circles under Aria's eyes.

"Hey, Aria, what's wrong? You look like you haven't slept in a week," Catherine said, her voice laced with concern.

Aria forced a smile, but it faltered under Catherine's concerned gaze. "Yeah, just a little tired," she exhaled, the words punctuated by a shiver that ran down her spine despite the warm shop.

Catherine's gaze softened. "Maybe you're just a little on edge. Why don't you head home and get some rest? I can handle the shop for a few hours." Pity flickered in Catherine's eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the unseen burden Aria carried.

"I can't, Catherine," Aria protested weakly. "You already do so much…"

Catherine cut her off with a gentle smile. "Hey, remember that time I got the flu and you covered my entire shift? Now it's my turn to return the favor. Besides, a well-rested Aria is a much better co-worker than a sleep-deprived one. Trust me, go home."

A flicker of relief sparked in Aria's eyes. Catherine's unwavering support was a balm to her anxieties. "Are you sure?" she asked hesitantly.

"Positive, babe," Catherine replied, her voice firm. "Now go get some sleep. You don't need to worry about anything here."

As Aria reached her apartment door, a tremor of worry ran through her. The door hung ajar, a sliver of darkness bleeding out into the hallway. Her breath caught in her throat. Pushing the fear down, she berated herself for carelessness, convincing herself that it was merely a matter of the latch not catching properly. Taking a deep breath, she shoved the door open. The stale air of her empty apartment greeted her, heavy with the silence of her solitary life. With trembling hands, she reached for the light switch, flooding the room with sudden illumination. The scream ripped from her throat before she could even register what her eyes were seeing. A figure sprawled languorously on her couch.

It was him. The man from the shop, the one whose gaze had sent a shiver down her spine despite the summer heat. His face, handsome in a dangerous way, was now etched with a smirk that sent a fresh wave of terror cascading through her.

The man's nonchalant posture shattered as he shot to his feet. A primal fear gripped Aria, and without a conscious thought, she bolted for the door. Her heart hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribs, each desperate footstep echoing in the sudden silence. But it was a futile attempt.

He was faster. In a blur of movement, he was upon her. His long stride easily overtook her panicked flight. A large hand clamped around her arm, the vice-like grip sending a jolt of pain lancing up her shoulder. He jerked her back with a force that stole the breath from her lungs, and her escape route cut off as abruptly as it began.

"Don't," she gasped, fear twisting her voice into a strangled plea. "Please let me go. What do you want?"

A struggle erupted, fueled by Aria's terror. She twisted and writhed, trying to break free, but his grip only tightened. A low hiss escaped his lips, a sound laced with anger and something else, something darker.

"Stop struggling," he hissed, the words clipped and sharp. He didn't ask, he commanded, dragging her roughly towards the couch, his strength overwhelming hers. He shoved her roughly onto the couch. Her back slammed against the cushions, and she gasped, pain momentarily eclipsing the terror. He loomed over her, a dark silhouette against the window. He didn't touch her, but the space between them was a charged emptiness, crackling with tension.

Aria's breath hitched in her throat. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision. Her voice, when it came, was a mere whisper choked with sobs. "W-why are you here? What do you want?"

A long, tense silence stretched between them. Finally, he spoke. His voice was a low growl, devoid of any warmth. "I'm going to ask you a question. And I expect an honest answer. Understand?"

Aria could only nod, a small, jerky movement like a frightened bird.

"Where is your mother?" he demanded, his green eyes boring into hers with an intensity that threatened to pierce her soul.

"I... I don't know," she stammered.

"Seems like we need to take a different approach," Zane grunted. He reached out, not to grab her, but to slowly stroke his thumb across the back of her hand. The caress sent shivers down her spine, a mixture of fear and a strange, unsettling awareness.

"Tell me where your mother is," he continued, his voice a low murmur. "It'll be much easier for everyone involved if you cooperate."

The implication hung heavy in the air. This wasn't a request. It was a thinly veiled threat. Aria's mind raced, desperately searching for an escape. She flinched again as Zane leaned in closer.

In contrast, Zane's instincts were urging him to kiss her. Yet, the sight of her fragile frame ignited conflicting emotions within him, tempting the darker impulses within to ravage her innocence.

"I don't know, P... please don't hurt me," she pleaded tearfully. "The only thing they told me was that they were going on vacation."

"So you're saying they left without you," Zane scoffed sarcastically, his tone dripping with skepticism. "Tsk tsk tsk... Baby, do you really expect me to believe that?"

She whimpered, at a loss for words, unsure of how to convince him of her sincerity.

"Seems like we need to take a different approach," Zane threatened. His tone was ominous.

Aria whimpered, attempting to speak, but Zane didn't give her the chance. In one swift motion, he grabbed her delicate waist and hoisted her onto his shoulder as if she were a mere paper doll.

"Let me go, let me go, please," she pleaded, her cries growing desperate as she pounded her fists against Zane's back.

Zane chuckled at her futile attempts to resist. His driver quickly opened the car door as Zane emerged from the house with Aria slung over his shoulder. Without hesitation, Zane deposited her on the back seat and followed suit, sliding in beside her.

Aria frantically attempted to escape by opening the car door, but Zane had no intention of letting her go. With a firm grip, he pulled her into his lap, restraining her arms, and issued a chilling command, "Stop moving, baby, or I'll find other ways to make you stop."

"No, let me go!" Aria screamed, her voice laced with terror. She struggled against his hold, but he was far stronger.

Zane grunted, his frustration mounting. "Looks like you're not going to cooperate," he muttered, his voice strained.

Just as her mind could conjure terrifying images, "Give me the damn chloroform," Zane snapped at the man in the driver's seat, his frustration palpable.

As Zane reached for the napkin soaked in chloroform, Aria's instincts kicked in, and she squirmed in a futile attempt to escape. "Please, don't do this," she pleaded. Her voice trembled. "I don't know where mother," but her words were muffled as Zane swiftly pressed the napkin over her mouth. Within moments, the effects of the chloroform began to take hold, and Aria's struggles weakened as she slipped into unconsciousness.

"Sleep, baby," were the last words she heard before succumbing to darkness.