Chapter 42 - FORTY TWO

Chapter 42: Chapter FORTY TWO

ANGEL

"You can speak English?!"

My mind was still trying to catch up; she’d understood everything I’d said, so why did she pretend not to?

"Why didn’t you say anything?" I took a step back, my heart racing, adrenaline spiking like ice water in my veins. Part of me wanted to bolt right back out that door into the dark, tropical night.

"Mija, I didn’t mean to keep it from you." She smiled softly, her expression shifting into something warm and maternal. "We just don’t see many foreigners around here and you appeared out of nowhere... bleeding and looking like a ghost. You took me by surprise."

My heart was still pounding, but the heavy thud in my chest started to slow down a bit. She’d only been testing me because I was a stranger?

Relief shot through me so fast my knees wobbled. I’d already started to imagine the absolute worst.

"Everyone calls me Nessa around here," she continued, gesturing smoothly to the women still watching me from various corners of the room. "Let me introduce you to the others, Mija."

She pointed to each woman, and my gaze followed, taking them in one by one.

"Kayla."

Warm brown skin, bright eyes that looked at me with open curiosity, her posture relaxed against the plush velvet sofa.

"Lona."

She was older than Kayla, possibly in her mid twenties. Copper hair fell in thick waves past her shoulders, and her pink lips curved in a small, gentle smile as she gave me a subtle little wave.

Something about that simple gesture eased the tight knot in my chest just slightly.

"Sofia."

Dark, tumbling curls framing a delicate, doll-like face, though her eyes remained guarded.

"Maria."

The woman possessed razor-sharp cheekbones and even sharper eyes that spelt out in plain language that she didn’t want me anywhere near her space.

"And Camila." The one with red lipstick and strawberry blonde hair who’d argued about me earlier; she was still leaning against the doorway, eyeing me with open hostility.

I forced myself to nod at them even as Maria crossed her arms tighter and Camila turned away completely, dismissing me with a quiet snort.

"How do I get off this island?" I turned back to Nessa, ignoring the hostile energy in the room and focusing on the only thing that truly mattered: survival.

"If you want to leave, there’s a supply boat that comes every three days. It just left this evening, so you have to wait." She said, her voice matter-of-fact.

Her words returned my panic with full, crushing force.

Three days? I needed to leave instantly—I couldn’t stay stranded out here in the middle of nowhere!

Maybe I should contact the authorities; they might be of more help than waiting on a random supply run.

"The police, how do I contact the police? I need to—"

"The police?" Nessa’s eyebrows rose. "What happened to you? Why do you need the police?"

The words stuck instantly in my throat, thick as lead.

Should I tell her that I’d been kidnapped, trafficked, and that I might have just killed the man who took me? That a corpse was rotting in a cabin somewhere in the forest?

"This island is very small," Nessa said before I could decide how much truth to confess. "Maybe a hundred people, most of them fishermen and their families. We don’t have police here."

There were no authorities? No law enforcement? The isolation felt like a heavy stone dropping into my stomach.

"It’s urgent, I need to get out of here!" My voice was hysterical now, high and frantic, while the other girls observed my breakdown with interest.

"Hmm, about that..." Nessa looked like she was thinking hard, her dark eyes narrowing in contemplation. Then her expression brightened.

"The Chief owns a private boat. If it’s truly an emergency, he sometimes lets people use it. But it’s late now, and the Chief doesn’t like to be disturbed after dark." She gestured deeper into the opulent hallway. "I’ll take you to see him tomorrow. For tonight, you stay here. Okay?"

I looked around, my lips pressed together tight. Where the hell was the luck I’d had earlier when I escaped? Now all I could do was pray that Damien was actually dead, buried under the rubble of his own sins.

I should have made more certain. I should have taken a knife and driven it straight through his blackened heart before running out of that nightmare cabin.

I sighed, feeling completely hopeless. "Can I use your phone again?"

Maybe Daddy had seen my message. Maybe he had called back while we were driving.

Nessa pulled the phone from her apron pocket and handed it to me without a second of hesitation.

I looked at the glass screen, and my stomach sank into a dark abyss. No service.

The signal bars were completely gone, replaced by a glaring red search icon.

I checked the call log anyway, my trembling thumb swiping down in pure desperation. Nothing. Daddy still hadn’t called back. No missed calls, no text alerts.

"We were just lucky on the road earlier. The network comes and goes," Nessa said gently, watching my deflated expression. "Sometimes it works for hours, sometimes days without a signal. The island is just too far from the mainland for consistent service."

Damn it.

I was truly trapped here. But it was just for tonight. I just had to survive the dark.

Tomorrow I’d find a better way to escape, boat or not.

I handed the phone back, forcing what probably looked like a shaky, miserable excuse for a smile. "Thank you so much. For everything."

Nessa’s smile widened. "Of course, mija. You looked like you needed help. Now come, I’ll show you where you can sleep. You must be starving too. I’ll get you something warm."

Night came, and I’d eaten creamy garlic chicken with mashed potatoes that tasted like absolute heaven after weeks of starvation and fear. I’d taken a long bath in lukewarm water—water that still felt amazing after weeks of Damien’s strict, terrifying showers where he’d regulated every damn thing right down to the temperature.

I was wearing a simple dress Nessa had given me—soft, breathable cotton that was actually feminine and pretty, smelling softly of lavender. The small, overwhelming luxury of wearing something that fit right almost made me burst into tears all over again.

Now I lay in the small guest bed staring up at the shadow-draped ceiling, trying to convince myself everything would be okay.

Tomorrow I’d see the Chief. I’d figure out what to do next, where to go, and how to survive even if I didn’t have a single penny to my name.

My last thoughts were about him—sleeping pills mixed into his drink. No one could survive that dose, right?

I repeated the thought like a mantra until pure exhaustion finally pulled me under the dark waters of sleep.

***

The oak door creaked open.

I was already sitting up in bed, my heart pounding against my ribs even though I didn’t remember waking up.

The room was swallowed in darkness, except for a sharp, pale sliver of moonlight cutting through the window blinds.

A tall, broad figure stood framed in the doorway.

I knew that silhouette. I’d know the sheer width of those imposing shoulders anywhere in the world.

Damien stepped into the room, and every bit of air left my lungs in a silent gasp.