Chapter 3 A Beautiful Maiden

The leader's eyes locked onto the screen, his expression frozen in stunned disbelief.Anxiety flickered. Anastasia had no resemblance to the girl in the image.A storm of confusion raged within him, yet he masked it with unsettling calm, subtly signaling his front man.. 'Miss Anastasia, you must be starving and parched,' he said softly, rising, his voice betraying subtle unease

He strode to the nearest cabinet, his back turned to her while he retrieved a water bottle. With practiced ease, he extracted a small vial from his pocket, deftly adding a few drops to the water. After a moment, he turned back to her, placing the glass on the table with deliberate calmness.

Anastasia's trembling hands accepted the glass, her gaze locked on his masked face. "All of it," he commanded, voice low and measured.With forced obedience, she drained all the water.His nod signaled his accomplice, who secured her bindings. Anastasia's vision blurred, tears welling as she watched him close his laptop, silent accusations dying on her lips.Soon blurring vision enveloped Anastasia, reflecting suppressed screams, silent pleas, and unanswered questions.

Following that, he marched out of the dimly lit room and into his office. The place was a world unto itself, filled with winding corridors, expansive galleries, and numerous rooms populated by people whose faces were covered with cloth. An overwhelming sense of horror hung in the air, as some men wept, endured beatings, and faced torture or even murder at the hands of masked figures.

Yet, despite this grim reality, one fact remained clear: he was the leader, the head of an underworld of cybercriminals. To the world outside, they were seen as criminals, but in their eyes, they were merely extracting the best from a corrupt system—clearing black money and exposing dishonest ministers, actions that the authorities found deeply unsettling. Thus, he and his organization were labeled as criminals by the governments, who remained unaware of their true whereabouts, hidden away in the shadows.

Governments from all over the world were always eager to hunt him down, ignorant of his hidden empire and it's location.

He was a sturdy man, characterized by an appearance that reflected a certain aura. He possessed youthful energy, with dark hair neatly styled. Always dressed in black, his attire spoke of authority and mystery. His face, once familiar to some, had remained largely unseen even by those within his own organization, except for his trusted front man and a select few and now Anastasia. Yet now, there was this girl _ ventured into the depths of a world few dared to explore.

.... (Dear audience u r free to imagine a man of your fantasies)

As soon as he entered his office, he violently hurled his mask against the wall, his frustration palpable. He roared at his front man, 'How could you make such a grave mistake?' The anger simmered within him as he continued, 'And to the devil with it! I just revealed my face to her. Do you expect me to kill an innocent person for no reason?' Sweating from the tension, he took a deep breath to steady himself. His front man, visibly anxious, replied, 'Sir, please give me some time. I will investigate where things went wrong; perhaps we mixed up the cars.'

The leader's voice was firm as he commanded, 'I want her complete details by midnight. I need to know who Miss Anastasia truly is.' His front man hesitated before asking, 'What should we do about her now, sir? Taking a deep breath, the leader declared, 'Ha! Whoever she is, she appears to have no future now, so let her sleep.' With that, he strode out of the office, making his way to his modest quarters.

As he entered his room, he carefully removed the mask and placed it on the side table. Exhausted, he tried to sleep, but rest eluded him, yielding only discomfort and pain. He shifted from side to side, and each time he closed his eyes, they opened to her image—the haunting memory of her innocent face replaying in his mind.

Frustrated,by the two thirds of night he finally sat up in his chair and murmured, 'What is happening to me?' With a sense of urgency, he opened his laptop and began searching for her identity. Soon, her information materialized before him: her credentials, belongings, friends, family—everything laid bare.

His eyes felt relief on admiring her innocence. He chuckled to himself, 'Anastasia, a beautiful maiden in her twenties. You are certainly something.' His gaze lingered on her photographs, each one revealing a glimpse of her spirit. Time slipped away as the night wore on, enveloping him in a mixture of intrigue, as the shadows deepened and the world outside faded into silence.

TO BE CONTINUED....