Shay had somehow mastered the use of the spy gadget over the course of an entire weekend. All those days, no one had come to question or interrogate her; there was a tiny, almost nonexistent bathroom behind a door that didn’t lead anywhere, and meals were slid through a minuscule trapdoor through the wall. She still had no idea where she was, as the place had no wi-fi.

However, that one day, her “routine” changed when a door opened—a door that she didn’t even know was there—and out came some guy in a mask. She stared at him as he took a clean sweep of the place. He then grabbed her arm and yanked her up, taking her by surprise as she let out a small yelp and tried to wrench it free. It was no use; the man held her in place and proceeded to lead her outside. She wasn’t gagged, so she snapped, “Where are you taking me?”

There was no reply, but she was promptly gagged. Joy.

She saw no choice but to be dragged into a shaded car silently. Once they were out and rolling—they being her and about ten other guys—the one who had pulled her into it in the first place turned and uttered, “Adair’s waiting for us at the northeast hideout. We are being tracked.”

Her blood ran cold. So Adair hadn’t even been there. Any evidence she might have gotten—a picture out of the tiny window, a recording of indistinguishable voices late at night—seemed useless if the main perpetrator hadn’t even been visually involved. Pointless. It was all pointless. An entire weekend, pointless. A groan escaped her, muffled by the makeshift gag, and the men chuckled darkly at her discomfort. At least they weren’t making any moves on her or anything, which was what one would have expected from a bunch of gang lugs. That’s right. Look on the positive side. She took in a shallow breath, trying to calm her nerves; they were driving towards Adair. She’d get the proof.

The rest of the ride was uneventful, and eventually she noticed them nearing another ordinary-looking neighborhood. God, these hideouts were nothing like the old abandoned warehouses that she’d visualized. When she’d first been kidnapped and stuffed into a bag, she had been expecting to wake up in an eerie, dank prison cell or something along those lines. The normalcies given to her instead seemed trained to aggravate her further. As she was being led inside, she felt her cellphone subtly vibrate in her pocket and thanked the heavens that it was on silent mode.

Unlike the last time, she was not immediately shoved into an attic and left to rot; she reclined against a leather sofa. Although it seemed like better treatment, Shay just knew that they were trying to get on her nerves: she hated leather. And with a leader that had once stalked her, the gang obviously knew it.

The gaggle of men had left her to her own devices, turning and walking off; she presumed to report to Adair or someone. Glancing around cautiously to check if anyone was there, she slowly pulled out her cell to check the caller. Her mother. She sighed; she’d call her later and tell her the usual, that she was fine and choir was going well and all the untrue rubbish her brain would muster.

She was pulled out of her reverie as a sudden motion disarmed her of her phone. She blinked at the abruptness of the scene and the next moment she was staring at the notorious gang leader himself.

“Ah, Shaelett.” Her name sounded a bit too natural coming out of his mouth and she couldn’t stifle the growl that escaped her. Why couldn’t he just mess it up like everyone else? However, her thoughts dissipated as he dangled the device in her face. “Apparently my underlings completely neglected the prospect of checking you for communication devices. How careless of them.” He slipped her phone away into a pocket and she looked on in horror, mostly because her parents were sure to freak out if she didn’t give them a call soon. “Of course, I would have to be an imbecile to believe that you don’t have anything else hidden with you.”

“I don’t,” she squeaked, recalling Dorian’s rather frazzled reaction and words to her confession of having his spy phones with her. If she lost them, then he’d pay for it. He hated her enough as it was.

“Come now, wouldn’t you rather be honest than face the consequences?” There it was; the smug smirk that he never used in school, when he was under the facade of an innocent, unassuming instructor. It was sickening, really, how easily he was able to fool everyone and consequently manipulate them, twisting them in his fingers and playing with them like puppets. Although, it was rather hypocritical of her, as he had once done the same to her; the first time she’d seen his smirk was when she’d first figured out his true identity, the face that he never showed anyone outside of his own disreputable connections. The one moment that she’d felt like she had accomplished something. She shook her head slightly.

“You’re sick,” she snarled. “Using her like that.”

“Changing the subject, are we?” He raised an eyebrow. “That being said, I am not using Cerise Hale for anything.”

“You’re leading her on.” Shay couldn’t believe his nerve. He was clearly playing with the girl, entangling her in his inescapable web. Her anger snapped and she uttered the next words in a dark fury. “You’re going to kill her, aren’t you? Just like you did to her parents.” Her eyes flashed. “You won’t get away with it.” Her words were quiet but full of venom. He simply looked mildly amused.

“You misunderstand,” he said easily. “I don’t intend to kill her.” His gaze bore into hers, sending shivers down her spine as his eyes glinted. “I intend to break her. Reduce her resolve and pathetic facade and aspirations to dust. Although, she just might lose it and kill herself after.” He shrugged, like that was a minor altercation. Shay’s anger peaked.

“You’re a complete monster!” she screamed. “You’re sick and disgusting and you don’t have a life! How the hell do you even—what do you get out of ruining a little girl’s life?”

Her rage left her shaking. He stared at her emotionlessly, save for the hint of a perpetual superiority complex in his expression. “I’ll admit that I’m having more fun with her than I’d initially thought. There’s just something about that girl.” His eyes seemed to look straight through her. “Something about that girl…that makes her so enticing, so interesting to break.”

Well, we’ve definitely got a psychopath on our hands, Shay thought bitterly to herself. “You’re crazy if you think everything you planned will work!”

He leaned close to her. His proximity sent chills down her spine. His smirk was even more unsettling, however, more unsettling than usual as he said in a low voice, “Tell me one thing that you can do to prevent it.” She was silent. His smirk widened. “Exactly. You are completely incompetent. Everyone believes in my true inner goodness and all they know me as is an ordinary high school math teacher. Nothing that you, out of all people, could say will convince anyone otherwise.”

She wanted to retort back, to contradict him, but her words were stuck in her throat as she knew that he was correct. The full extent of her uselessness was creeping onto her, and he definitely sensed it as his features were triumphant. He stepped away from her, to her immense relief; but that very relief was shattered when he started talking again.

“Now that you’ve realized that you are completely at my mercy, let’s get to the important matter, shall we?” His voice was like iron: cutting, irrefutable. “One way or the other, I will get the information out of you.”