Chapter 42: A Pound of Flesh

*Layla*

I hit the tarmac hard, the rough hands of Marco’s men digging into my arms as they dragged me towards the waiting plane. The roar of the engines filled my ears as I struggled against their iron grip.

But it was no use. These men were trained, ruthless, and they had me completely at their mercy. With a final, brutal shove, they forced me up the steps and into the interior of the plane.

And that's when I saw her.

My mother, her face a mottled canvas of bruises and cuts, hunched in one of the plush leather seats. She clutched her hand to her chest, and even from a distance, I could see the blood seeping through her fingers.

"Mom!" I cried out, my voice raw with anguish as I tried to rush to her side. But my captors held me back, their fingers digging into my flesh like talons.

"Not so fast, Layla," a sickeningly familiar voice crooned. "You didn't think I'd let you off that easily, did you?"