Chapter 4 - The Collector
Carl wet himself, a dark stain spreading across his faded denim jeans.
He recognized the boss of the city's underworld immediately.
"Mister Hayes, please, I didn't know she belonged to you," Carl begged, sobbing openly.
Ronan did not even blink at the pathetic display.
He looked at Leo and gave a single, dismissive flick of his wrist.
"Take him to the harbor," Ronan ordered smoothly.
"No, wait, I can pay you back, I swear!" Carl screamed as Leo dragged him by his collar.
Carl's desperate screams echoed down the stairwell until they faded into the night.
Sadie remained on the floor, coughing violently, her hands clutching her bruised throat.
Ronan knelt gracefully beside her, uncaring that the filthy floor was ruining his bespoke suit.
He pulled a small radio from his pocket and called for his private medical team.
"You are leaving this slum tonight, Sadie, and you are never coming back," he stated.
She looked at him through swollen, tear-filled eyes.
"Why are you doing this for me?" she rasped, her voice completely hoarse.
She knew powerful men did not do favors without expecting a heavy price in return.
Ronan reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair away from her bleeding forehead.
His touch was strangely gentle for a man who had just ordered an execution.
"Because a masterpiece of survival belongs in a museum, not a slaughterhouse," he whispered.
"And I collect very rare things."
Paramedics rushed into the room, lifting Sadie onto a portable stretcher.
She was too exhausted and broken to fight them.
As they carried her out to a waiting armored SUV, she looked back at her apartment one last time.
May you like
She had traded a rabid dog for a very sophisticated wolf.
She closed her eyes, letting the darkness finally take her as the convoy sped toward the city center.
