At first, Noreen was engrossed in work emails on her phone. But as the car began to jostle on an uneven road, she looked up. They were no longer in the bustling part of the city.
“Are we almost there?” she asked the driver.
“The gala is at a private mountain estate,” he explained. “It’s a bit of a drive.”
Noreen said nothing more, but a seed of doubt had been planted. She messaged Mrs. Joyner for the location.
The reply came a moment later: *My driver can’t find you. Did you call your own car?*
The realization hit her like a punch to the gut. This was not her ride. She immediately sent her live location to Mrs. Joyner while trying to remain calm. Her other hand crept toward the door handle, her mind racing as she assessed the car’s speed. They were on a winding mountain road, and the car wasn’t moving too fast.
Without another moment of hesitation, she threw the door open and jumped.
The impact with the asphalt sent a starburst of pain through her body, and the world momentarily went white. The driver slammed on the brakes, cursing as he got out of the car, a baseball bat now in his hand. “Not so clever now, are you? Thought you could just jump out?”
Noreen struggled to her feet, a sharp, agonizing pain shooting up from her ankle. It was a bad sprain. As soon as she put weight on it, the pain buckled her knee, and she collapsed back to the ground.
The driver loomed over her, his cold eyes taking her in with a lecherous grin. “I thought you were pretty from a distance, but up close… you’re a real beauty.”
He had a wicked look in his eyes. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and started dragging her back toward the car.
“Let go!” Noreen fought back, but she was no match for his brute strength. He hauled her into the vehicle.
“Let me go!”
Losing his patience, he brought the bat down hard on the back of her head. A dull thud, a flash of pain, and then darkness.
She awoke to pitch black. Her eyes were covered, her mouth was sealed with thick tape, and her body was bound so tightly she couldn’t move.

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