♡ Nia's POV ♡
The atmosphere grew thick with tension. His green eyes, once warm, now darkened with anger ,signaling that I had overstepped a dangerous line. .I felt a surge of regret, realizing I had overreacted by hitting him on the face.
Suddenly, he grabbed me by the neck, and the room echoed with the sounds of my gasps for breath. Each attempt to breathe felt like a struggle and a desperate plea for mercy. His grip was unrelenting, my attempts to hit and kick futile against his overpowering strength.
My eyes pleaded for mercy, desperation etched across my face as my mouth strained to inhale even the slightest bit of air. The room felt suffocating, tears welled up in my eyes as I begged silently for him to release me.
Finally, he let go without a word, his anger evident as he angrily shattered a vase before storming out of the room. I collapsed in tears, still gasping for air, the realization hitting me hard – he was about to kill me..
Tears flowed uncontrollably down my face, a testament to the enduring suffering I'd felt for far too long. The weight of it all pressed on me ,I was going to escape, away from the constant pain inflicted upon me. The weight of the hurt didn't feel right anymore.
In a desperate attempt to escape, I grasped a shattered piece of a vase, and began cutting into my wrist. Blood started pouring out, accompanied by a sharp stomach ache that intensified the unbearable pain.
Lost in my anguish, minutes later, the housekeeper stumbled upon the distressing scene, her horrified scream piercing the air, alerting Juan.
Pretending everything was fine, masking the earlier scene of his aggression, he rushed into the room. With feigned concern, he grabbed my hands, pulling me closer. I resisted fiercely, demanding he stay away.
"Don't touch me," I yelled at him, the fear evident in my trembling form. "Mi amor, are you still mad about what happened earlier?" he asked, attempting to downplay his actions. "It was only kidding, I would never try to hurt you, Nia," he said with seemingly innocent eyes. Tucking my hair behind my ears, he held my face and kissed me, "I love you, Nia. I really love you."
Ignoring my resistance, he seized my hands again, his tone changing abruptly. "Let's get you cleaned up." Despite my attempts to resist,his voice turned soft and threatening,"You wouldn't want me to get mad.You know what happens when daddy gets mad," he warned, his actions leaving me with no choice as he carried me to his room.
We entered his room, and he gently placed me on his bed before rushing to grab the first aid kit. While treating my wound, he scolded me, "Nia, how did you get hurt? You know I can't bear to watch anything bad happen to you."
Pulling me in closer, he kissed me on the lips, "Let's get you cleaned up." He started undressing me, holding me and guiding me to the bathroom. In so much pain, I just wanted the night to be over.
**************************************************
I woke up the next morning, groaning in so much pain. Scanning the room, I realized Juan wasn't around, providing me with an opportunity to find my phone and passport that he had seized. Despite the pain, I got out of bed, went to the mirror, and saw the marks of Juan's hands on my neck where he had strangled me.
My tummy ached terribly as I searched Juan's room, checking drawers and cupboards, but found nothing. It seemed like he hid my belongings in his weapon room, secured with a passcode door I couldn't open.
As I sat beside the bed, deep in thought, I heard the noise of shattered glass. "Who's there?" I hurried out of Juan's room, and at the first sight, I screamed. The housekeeper was lying on the floor, her throat slit, bleeding profusely.
Panicking, I tore my clothes and applied pressure to her neck. She was shaking, and then I heard footsteps. Three armed men walked slowly behind me. I got up, running out of the building, seeing Juan's men lying dead on the floor. They had killed them all.
As I reached the front of the building, a black van pulled up, and Guzman emerged. He grabbed my arms, pulling me into the van, and he sped away. There was no way I could reach Juan.
"Please don't kill me," I pleaded with Guzman.
"I'm not here to kill you, Carmen. I'm here to take you to a safe place," he said, his voice carrying a mixture of urgency and concern.
"Why are you helping me?" I asked, searching his eyes for an answer.
"No more questions, Carmen. They are after us," he replied, a sense of secrecy in his tone.
I glanced back, and my heart sank as I saw two menacing cars speeding toward us. Fear gripped me, and I picked up Guzman's phone, attempting to call Juan, but there was no signal.
My heart raced as adrenaline coursed through my veins. "Please drive faster," I pleaded with Guzman, my eyes darting between him and the pursuing cars.
"Oh, shit," he responded, glancing at the road ahead. "This is the wrong route; there's a cliff ahead. We won't be able to make it."
"We have to pull over now," Guzman declared, his face tensing with the impending danger.
Panic welled up in me as he pulled the car to a screeching halt. The cars behind us did the same.
As we got out of the car, the three menacing figures emerged from their vehicles and advanced towards us.
"Give her to us, Guzman," one of the men demanded, his voice sharp and authoritative.
"Boss is so disappointed with you for betraying him," another one added, the tension escalating.
The third guy, who hadn't said a word, suddenly pulled the trigger, and a gunshot echoed. Guzman was shot in the forehead, and he went down, rolling off the cliff.
My world spun as I witnessed this horrifying scene. The last thing I remembered was the three men closing in on me as everything faded into darkness.