To live and to love

05| 𝕽𝖎𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖎𝖓 𝖆 𝕲𝖊𝖙𝖆𝖜𝖆𝖞 𝕮𝖆𝖗

I awoke with a pulsing headache.

Keeping my eyes shut, I let my senses take in the surroundings before I announced to the world that I was awake. Wherever I was, it was quiet, damp, cold, and reeked of blood and sweat. My mouth was parched, tongue leaden, and dry. What I wouldn't give for a mouthful of water to wash away the lingering taste of blood. My stomach was painfully empty, and the throbbing in my head sent splinters of light through my skull.

We had been betrayed—betrayed by someone in the FIA, someone who would benefit from Akbar's freedom and money. Defeated, I opened my eyes and felt all the stones of my prison around me, tapping for loose bits or possibly a whole block that I could use as a weapon. All the pins had been pulled out of my hair, and from my arms, robbing me of a chance to even try to pick a lock. My poor dress was in tatters, abused by last night's events.

There was nothing I could have used.

My hands stilled as my mind worked, trying to put the pieces together. Of three things, I was sure.

The first was that at least six hours had passed since I'd been taken because morning was breaking in the sky, something I could sense with my body clock. Which meant that there were only a few more hours before Akbar's whole empire came crashing down.

The second was that because at least six hours had passed and Sush and the others clearly had not found me, I was either in a private holding across the city or in some cell beneath Akbar's house, awaiting transport.

The third was that Azaan was probably done with me, thinking that I had betrayed him and the FIA. He had been taken to the hospital, barely able to answer my sister's questions regarding my whereabouts. She would ask, why had I deliberately dropped my tracking hairpin at his feet instead of keeping it with me? And he would have nothing to say in return. Because by the time he figured it all out, I would have disappeared.

Gone.

Settling back against the wall, I stared at the dark ceiling my body aching at the thought of another fight. Perhaps if a guard came in, I could get him close enough to use the chains against him— strangle him or knock him unconscious, or hold him, hostage, long enough for someone to free me and let me out.

Perhaps—

The door groaned open, and a man filled the threshold, three others behind him.

Akbar Jamshed Junejo.

"You're a very clever girl Eliza and you know I don't like clever girls," Akbar seethed, anger simmering right below the surface. "Now tell me little bird, where is my necklace?"

I stared at him, trying to control the smirk fighting its way to my face. He was trying so hard not to snap, his left eye twitching from impatience. I could tell he was just as keyed up as I was. There wasn't a hint of anger on his face, but I heard the rage in his question all the same. This man was a brute, but he had a lot of self-control and I had no intention of letting him win.

So I let out a small lazy smile. "I don't know what you're talking about. I gave it to you just before your rude henchman knocked me out."

But Akbar wasn't fooled that easily. He stayed standing exactly where he was. "You've become a better liar. I'm impressed," I just shrugged. "I know you gave me the fake set Eliza, where's the real one?"

"Didn't your henchmen find it?"

"If they did why would you be here?"

"It's quite a long story," It really wasn't. "See the necklace is exactly where it's supposed to be."

"What?"

"I didn't take it," His mouth popped open. He was shocked, and that was good. Shocked was better than enraged, or worst of all, bored. "I didn't steal your necklace."