Liz lay on a bare floor, her hands and legs bound tightly with rope. She seemed unconscious, but faint words mumbled from her lips, as though she were trapped in a dream no one else could hear. It was as if she were having a nightmare.

Suddenly, a bucket of water crashed onto her body, jolting her awake. She flinched and shivered at the cold. Dizzy and disoriented, she tried to figure out where she was, but her head spun from the sudden jerk when she’d woken.

Blinking, she scanned the room. Her eyes landed on several men in suits.

“What the—?” she muttered, trying to process who they were.

“What’s going on?” she asked again, clutching her aching head.

Her gaze locked on one man seated calmly in a chair, staring at her.

He must be their leader... but gosh, he is so damn handsome, she thought.

She took in every detail from head to toe. He was breathtaking—round face, perfect blonde hair, and sharp cat-like eyes that seemed capable of paralyzing anyone who met them. His broad frame and confident posture told her there was a muscular body hidden beneath that suit.

Back to earth, Liz, she reminded herself. Everything felt too strange—like a dream—so she asked, “Who are you guys, and what am I doing here?”

No one responded.

“I said, who the hell are you guys?” she demanded, irritation creeping in.

She tried to get up but couldn’t; the ropes bit into her wrists and ankles. She struggled, but it was no use.

“Who are you?” she asked again, now angry.

Finally, the man in the chair—Otto—rose and walked toward her. Without a word, he poured another bucket of water over her.

That was the moment Liz realized it wasn’t a dream. The men, the handsome stranger—everything was real. A sharp jolt of fear shot through her. She had been kidnapped.

What the hell is wrong with this man? she thought.

“How dare you pour water on me, you bloody bastard! Who the hell are you?” she snapped.

“Are you gonna cry?” Otto teased, brushing his hand against her jaw.

“Get your hands off me,” she growled.

“What’re you gonna do, cutie?” he smirked, touching her again. His touch was warm—but dangerous.

Liz’s eyes flicked to the unsmiling men in suits. The scene reminded her of a movie she’d once seen, and the truth hit her hard—she was really, truly kidnapped.

“Please, I beg you… why would you take me?” she pleaded. “I swear, I don’t have gold or diamonds. Please, just let me go. My family must be worried sick. I need to get to my mom… just let me go.”

Her pleas bounced off them like stone walls. Otto’s eyes stayed fixed on her, studying her as if weighing whether she was lying.

“Don’t you dare pretend like you don’t know who I am,” he said, his voice sharp with authority.

“I swear I don’t know you,” Liz insisted.

Otto’s stare hardened. If looks could kill, she’d be gone. It made her squirm under his gaze. She tried giving him the most innocent look she could, and for a moment, he seemed uncertain.

No, she’s lying, Otto decided. He snapped his fingers, and one of his men handed him a file.

“Alright, darling. You can pretend we’ve never met. No problem. But this file contains every detail about you. So, listen carefully, and tell me if I miss anything, sweetheart,” he said with a wicked grin.

“Miss Liz Fred, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Fred. Lives at 52 Vile City Street. Writer. Best friends with Lena Paul. Modest and caring. Studied at Oxford University. Single. Favorite color—white. Loves Italian dishes. Prefers to be alone.”

Liz froze. How does he know all this? Has he been spying on me?

Otto was about to continue, but Liz cut in.

“Just stop. What do you want from me?” she asked, fear now prickling her voice.

“Where is my baby?” Otto said.

Liz’s breath caught. She stared at him, confused.

“I’m not with any baby. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said tearfully.

She’s got to be joking, Otto thought angrily. “Look at me properly and tell me you don’t know me.”

“I swear I don’t. And besides, if I had seen you before, I could never forget your face. I promise, sir—I’ve never seen you.”

“Okay, that’s it.” Otto pulled out a gun and aimed it directly at her forehead. Liz trembled like an animal awaiting slaughter.

“So, are you gonna talk, or should I put a bullet right here? Trust me, you won’t like it,” he said coldly.

“I… I… s-swear I don’t… have any baby. Please don’t shoot me,” she stammered.

“I’m gonna fire within the count of five. Where is my baby?” he barked.

“I don’t have any baby!” Liz tried to sound firm, but her voice cracked.

“One.”

“I don’t have any baby!”

“Two.”

“Just believe me!”

“Three.”

“For goodness’ sake, I’m telling the truth!”

“Four.”

“Oh, sweet Jesus, please—”

“Five.”

The gun went off with a loud bang. Liz screamed loudly, sure that she was going to die right there. But then she heard the sound of glass breaking, and her panic started to fade a little. The man had not shot her; instead, he had hit the wine glass on a table nearby.

“I just gave you your last chance,” Otto said. He crouched down so he was at her level and gently touched her cheek with his hand.

Liz felt dizzy. She was still a virgin, meaning she had never been with a man in that way. Also, she had never had a baby. So why was this man blaming her for something? And why did he have that strange look in his eyes when he looked at her?

As his hand moved through her hair, Liz felt a chill run down her spine. Her mind was a mess of fear and confusion. She didn't know what was happening or why. All she felt was panic mixed with a strange sense of vulnerability. The situation felt overwhelming and she wished she could understand what he wanted from her.