After six years of being his prisoner, caged in the house, treated as his sex dog and punching bag, without being told, she knew if she stopped running, she would never come out of the mansion alive.

Thorns that were littered across the bush had pierced her bare sole, drawing out blood even from her toes. But she couldn't stop running. She just couldn't.

As she kept up with the speed, the moon wasn't bright enough to warn her of a log of wood that was just before her. She stepped on it, twisting her ankle, and was on the ground before she could register the pain.

"Ow!" she cried, holding her ankle with both hands. She felt a burning sensation around her feet, but she bit her lip to stiffen any sound coming from her. She knew getting caught wasn't an option.

"Have you seen her, Marco?" a voice thundered not too far from where she was.

The sound of the voice left her gasping, as she slowly crawled to the back of a large tree.

"No–-no, sir. I'm still… looking. But I think she has run out of the villa," Marco responded, fear making him stammer.

The tall man who'd spoken earlier walked over to Marco, overshadowing him. "If you don't find Sylvia before dawn, your mother's head will be the first gift I'll ever give you."

Marco's eyes widened as he collapsed on his knees. "Sir, please. I'll find her. I'll find her. No matter what it takes. Don't kill my mother, please."

"Then begin already! You will find her alone, an bring her back before sunset. If you don't see her, don't bother coming back," the man warned, anger swirling in his eyes. He turned, walking into the darkness.

The rest of the men, most holding torches and two holding dogs, scowled at Marco before trailing behind their boss.

Marco was in charge of watching over his boss' wife that night, but given as she'd never made an attempt to escape for the past six years, he'd slept off, allowing her to find her escape route.

"Ah!" he raged in annoyance, running his fingers through his short brown hair. "Now where is that disgusting bitch?"

Sylvia held on desperately to the tree's bark, and crawled to the opposite direction frorm where Marco was without making a sound. She bit her lower lip to the point where she began to taste blood. From her earlier days in the mansion, she knew the train station was situated on the far end of the town. The only problem was how She would get there with her sprained ankle.

Stopping meant certain death. It was still dark, but she couldn't mind that now. She stood up and began walking.

An hour had passed, and not even the shuffling of the dead leaves had shown a sign of belonging to Marco. He would have lost her trail and stopped searching, she told herself. Her forehead had begun to burn. Her ankle only added to the pain and exhaustion every point in her body felt. She stopped, heaving heavy breaths before she slumped on the floor, leaning on the back of a tree.

Because of the humiliation, Marco had decided he'd make her pay before taking her back to the villa. He had followed her through the blood stains on the dead leaves and found her, being the weak woman she had always been. He took careful steps, raising one leg after the other when he cracked a branch under his feet. Sylvia immediately jerked up, her eyes filled with shock.

"You're not planning on making me chase after you again, are you?" he said, pointing a gun at her.

She faltered at the sight of his aim, subconsciously taking some steps back. While Marco could not kill her, she didn't trust him not to shoot.

"There's nothing you will do that will make me go back to that prison!" Sylvia spat.

Malice rose in Marco's eyes. "I'm taking you back, whether you want to or not!" he retorted, tightening his grip on the gun.

"And I said I'm not going back! Tell your boss I'm no longer his slave!" She grabbed a broken branch, wobbling backward.

His eyes darted to the stick and he scoffed. "You have suddenly grown some wings. How come I never saw this side of you?" he questioned, taking one step closer to her.

Sylvia moved back instinctively. "Stay back," she warned.

"Make me, princess." he leered, taking another step towards her.

"I said stay back!" Sylvia screamed, anger washing over her.

Marco smirk only grew as he tucked in the gun "And if I don't, dear tigress, what will you do?"

"I will stab you, Marco. And I'm not joking." Her eyes glistened with tears, and even though she was consumed by fear, she tried not to let it show.

Marco saw her glassy eyes and took one more step towards her with a broad smile plastered on his round face. "Let me see you try."

Marco tried to grab her right arm. She moved the branch to her left arm, and stabbed his shoulder with a speed she didn't know she had.

"Ahhh!" Marco screamed, writhing in pain on the floor. "You bitch! You will regret this!" he raged. But all he saw was the image of her running away.

This time, Sylvia didn't stop—even though she had no ounce of strength left in her. It was as though her legs had a mind of their own. She kept running without looking back until she reached the road leading into the next town.

Her gown had several holes in it, and her legs had plenty of scars drawn from her toes to underneath her feet. Her long black hair had the shape of a bird's nest, some plastered on her forehead due to dried sweat.

She took two more steps before she let out a loud sigh and slumped on the hard-tarred road, blackness covering her sight totally.

Some minutes later, a black jeep rode past her before halting just a few steps from her.

"Why are we stopping, Andrew?" a deep tenor voice asked from the back seat.

"Boss, there's a woman lying down on the–"

"I know. I saw her. Is that why we are stopping, Andrew?" the owner of the questioned, emotion absent from his face.

Andrew gulped. "I think she needs help, boss. We can help her."

He dropped his phone beside him. "Why do you think that? You don't know if it's all a ploy to get my attention."

Andrew bit his lips to stiffen his laugh; he was used to hs boss assuming everything was about him. "Let's just help her. I think she needs to go to the hospital quickly."

The man sighed inwardly. "If I didn't know you any better, I would have thought you were quite taken by that woman."

Andrew took that as a yes and opened the door, walking briskly to help the woman. But his boss was faster. The Boss' eyes immediately grew into concern as he saw the Sylvia's state. His eyes darted to her feet that was still bleeding.

Andrew was equally worried. "Is she still alive?"

"Yes, yes she is. She is a fighter." he said, relieved. He carried her in his arms easily, as if she weighed nothing.

After the black jeep sped off, Marco appeared from behind a tree. He slid his hand inside his pocket and dialled a number.

"Boss… I'm sorry but someone hurriedly took her away before I could do anything." Marco whimpered, wiping sweat from his forehead.

"What?" his boss thundered over the phone. "I'm surprised you'd prefer to have your mother's head served for you on a platter. Did you see the idiot that took her?"

Marco gulped and said, "Boss, I don't know who he was, but I saw something on the back of his car."

"Stop wasting my time, Marco ," the man seethed with enough malice to shake a nation. "What did you see?"

Marco groaned in pain. "It was a Duncan's crest."

The line went quiet for long seconds before Marco heard the sound of glass crashing, and then the call ended.