Chapter 4 The Unwilling Vow

As dawn broke, he made his way to the office, a heavy burden settling upon his shoulders. Upon arrival, his assistant delivered the grim news, presenting a recording that illuminated the chaotic turn of events. "Sir," he began, his tone laced with urgency, "the car we were pursuing was switched, and it appears the bridesmaid has also been replaced; she is, in fact, the bride's best friend." A deep sigh escaped his lips as he shook his head, the weight of the revelation sinking in. "Poor girl," he murmured, a mix of sympathy and resignation in his voice. "What trials does this friendship force us to endure?" The room fell silent, the gravity of the situation hanging heavily in the air.

The true target of their pursuit was the bride's sister-in-law, who was to serve as the bridesmaid. One might wonder what business they had with a married woman, but the answer was far more complex than it appeared. She held the key to their long-awaited revenge, a means to settle the score for countless innocent lives lost. Her husband, the bride's elder brother, was a corrupt government assassin, a man who had siphoned off a fortune from those abandoned by the very system that was meant to protect them. He owed them not only a staggering sum of money but also a debt of blood that could never be repaid. As the pieces of this dark puzzle fell into place, the air thickened with anticipation.

The front man, clutching a massive file, approached his leader with a mixture of trepidation and resolve. "Sir, here's Miss Anastasia's profile," he announced, his voice barely concealing his apprehension. The leader, engrossed in his laptop, waved a hand dismissively. "Just put that in the rack nearby. I know her well enough to—anyway, let's pay her a visit."

Yet, the front man hesitated, a flicker of doubt crossing his face. "Sir, are you really going to kill her...? I mean…" His voice trailed off as he glanced around, his timidity palpable. "She is a maiden, after all."

The leader chuckled, the sound rich with irony as he donned a mask. "Hmm… she is beautiful, I grant you that. But do you want to marry a maiden before you kill her?" He erupted into laughter, the room echoing with his mirth.

The front man, flustered, quickly backpedaled. "No, Sir, of course not! How dare I even suggest such a thing!" His eyes darted nervously, caught between the absurdity of the moment and the caught between the absurdity of the moment and the chilling reality of their mission. The tension, laced with dark humor, hung in the air, a curious juxtaposition of life and death.

After issuing the command for the visit to the girl, the leader kept his true intentions concealed, even from his devoted front man, who followed closely behind. As they traversed the shadowy corridors, the leader turned to him with a steely gaze. "Fetch me something," he instructed, a hint of urgency in his voice."What is it you need, Sir?" the front man asked, curiosity piqued. The leader paused, a cryptic smile playing on his lips.His words hung in the air, heavy with implication, as they drew ever closer to their destination and front man provided for that.

As they entered the dim room, the leader's eyes roamed over Anastasia, a small smirk hidden beneath his mask. He turned to his front man and ordered, "Wake her up." Moments later, Anastasia regained consciousness, her eyes fluttering open as she scanned her surroundings. Panic set in, and she exclaimed, "I want to go! You can't keep me here!" She struggled against the restraints of the chair.

The leader's voice, low and measured, cut through the tension. "Miss Anastasia, calm down." Anastasia, her fear palpable, quickly retorted, "If you need money or something, I'll give it to you! Just let me go, please."

The leader leaned closer, his tone icy as he commanded, "Silence. If you continue to resist, this confrontation could cost you your entire life, sweetheart." Anastasia's voice faltered, and she whispered in a low, submissive tone, "Hmmm." The air thickened with tension, the weight of the moment heavy with unspoken threats.

The leader's eyes sparkled with satisfaction as he leaned back in his chair, arms resting behind his head. "So listen carefully, Miss Anastasia," he began, a sly smile playing on his lips. "The problem is, we picked you by mistake." He gestured to his front man, who stepped forward to explain the situation in detail.As the front man concluded, hope ignited in Anastasia's eyes. "Then you can let me go now," she said, her voice trembling with excitement.

But the leader swiftly interrupted, his tone commanding. "Let's get to know you first, how about that?" He showed ignorance, a facade he wore effortlessly, concealing the truth he already knew. The tension in the room thickened, a blend of uncertainty and intrigue, as Anastasia realized the game was far from being end.

"So, Miss Anastasia, how old are you?" the leader inquired, his voice smooth yet probing. Anastasia shot back with a counter-question, "If I'm to leave, then why are you asking me questions?" His expression hardened, a flicker of irritation crossing his features. "Answering these questions is for your own good. You still don't know us, and this is a harsh world, sweetheart. So let's begin. Tell me about your family."

He listened intently, nodding as she provided answers he already knew, the tension between them palpable. Then, with a calculated calmness, he posed one final question. "Are you single, Miss Anastasia?" His gaze held hers, knowing fully well what her answer would be, the air thick with unspoken implications.Anastasia nodded, her confusion evident. The leader, sensing her unease, clarified, "Just asking in case you had a husband who might be waiting for his pretty little wife. How sad that would be…"

Panic surged within Anastasia. "You just said I was innocent! Then let me go, please!" The leader's demeanor shifted, his voice turning cold and sharp. "Exactly. That's the problem—you are innocent, and you've seen my face." His words hung in the air, dark and foreboding, intertwining their fates in a web of danger and intrigue. The tension crackled between them, a chilling reminder.

Anastasia's voice trembled as she quickly replied, "I promise I won't tell anyone! I didn't see your face clearly at all, so you can let me go." Her words dripped with innocence, a desperate plea for mercy that hung in the air, invoking a haunting mix of vulnerability and fear. The leader studied her intently,

The leader chuckled softly, his tone laced with mockery. "I don't trust you, sweetheart. And as for my face not being clear—here, memorize it all." He removed his mask completely, leaning closer to her chair and allowing her an unfiltered view of his features. A gentle smile played on his lips, concealing the darker intentions simmering beneath. After a tense pause, their gazes locked, and Anastasia finally broke the silence. "If you don't plan to let me go, then what?"

With a slow, deliberate motion, the leader glided back and retrieved a gun from his armor, placing it deliberately in front of her. Amusement danced in his eyes as he said, "Well, you wouldn't want to die at such a young age, would you? Besides, we don't kill women, so I have another plan for you." The air thickened with tension, a dangerous allure weaving between them, leaving Anastasia to wonder what fate awaited her.

Anastasia gulped in fear, shaking her head. "Wh...what other plan?" Her voice trembled, betraying her anxiety. The leader's face broke into a cunning smile as he regarded her. With a nod, he signaled to his front man, who promptly entered the room, placing a booklet on the table before Anastasia. He stood by her side, awaiting his leader's command with respectful vigilance.

As Anastasia's eyes fell upon the booklet, surprise flickered across her features. "What is this?" she exclaimed. "You'll find out soon enough," the leader replied, gesturing for his man to release her hands. As her wrists, raw from two days of restraint, were freed, she instinctively moved forward, flipping open the booklet. Horror washed over her, and her hands froze as she read the contents. "What is this written?" she shouted, her voice a mixture of disbelief and dread, the atmosphere heavy with impending revelations.

The leader replied with feigned politeness, "Can't you read, our pretty Miss? It's a marriage form."

Anastasia shot back, her voice rising in panic. "Why is my name on it, and whose name is this—ALEXANDER?"

The mention of the name and raising of voice prompted the leader to pick up the gun from the table, murmuring to her, "Sheesh, little one... You seem rather excited to meet your future husband, don't you?" His tone dripped with irony. "Well, I won't hide the truth from you. Alexander is a very bad man, but the least I know is that he would love to die for an innocent creature like you."

He leaned closer, a dark smile playing on his lips. "I think that's enough introduction for your husband, don't you?" The tension in the room thickened, a blend of fear and twisted romance hanging in the air, leaving Anastasia reeling from the implications of her fate.

To be continued .....