Chapter Seven: Marked for Death

ANNA

I sat in my car, staring at the dimly lit, creaky motel in front of me. I had packed up and left the state, cutting off everything that tied me to my old life. I'd been on the road for a day now and I'm planning to settle in this roadside motel before picking up tomorrow. I brought nothing with me, nothing that could drag me back to my past. The only thing I had left was this car, ironically, the same one Abel had gifted me on our fourth anniversary. Back then, I was elated, over the moon. Now? Five years down the drain, and here I was. Strangely, I felt free. I felt at peace.

It still hurts, yes. But I knew this was better for me.

I sighed, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel, lost in thought. The money I’d managed to save over the years was enough to get me a small place in G City. I planned to sell the car soon, too. It would bring in more cash. From what I’d heard, G City was the perfect place for a fresh start.

I had already reached out to Sherry, my high school friend who lived there. She’d agreed to accommodate me until I found my footing, and she’d even mentioned a job opening I could apply for.

A job. Something Abel never let me have. Back home, he wanted me locked inside, a perfect housewife with no ambition, no identity outside of him. My only label had been Abel Donovan’s wife and even that, most people didn’t know.

He always said he hated “independent boss ladies.” To him, a working woman was a threat, a woman who needed taming. In his twisted mind, once a woman became independent, she became careless, wayward.

And I had agreed. Foolishly. Blindly.

But not anymore.

Now, damn him and his backward thoughts. I will rebuild. I will rise. I will take care of myself and my unborn child and become the boss of my own life. He and Flora can rot for all I care.

Pushing the door open, I stepped out of the car. The night air hit me as I walked around to the trunk, pulling out my few belongings. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to get me through the night. I’d check into the motel, rest, and by tomorrow, continue my journey toward the life I was about to build.

A rough voice called out from behind me.

“Hey.”

I froze, turning slightly. A man was walking toward me, his face hard, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

“Someone wants to see you over there.” He grabbed my arm and yanked me forward.

Panic surged through me. I ripped my arm free.

“What is happening? What do you want?” My voice shook as I backed away, scanning the empty parking lot.

It was late. Too late. The motel sat in a deserted, unsafe part of town. No cars. No people. No cameras.

No way out.

“Don’t waste my time. Come over here,” he snickered.

Cold fear washed over me. My heart thudded, my thoughts went to my baby, my unborn child. Nothing could happen to my baby.

I turned, ready to run, ready to give it everything I had. But I barely made it two steps before he grabbed me, his hand striking across my face. Pain exploded in my cheek, and I stumbled, silenced. He hauled me up and dragged me toward the shadows of a dark alley.

“No!” I tried screaming, thrashing, but he slammed me down and clamped his palm over my mouth.

“Shut up, slut.”

My eyes widened, and I sank my teeth into his hand. He yelped, pulling it away.

“Roger, you can’t even handle one woman?” another voice mocked from the shadows.

Roger spat on the ground, glaring at me. He slapped me again, harder this time, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth.

“She’s too jumpy. Not cooperating at all. Come help me drag her!”

Two more men stepped forward. They dragged me towards the dark alley. My vision blurred as they shoved me into the dirt.

“What do you want from me?” I croaked, barely able to lift myself onto my knees. I looked up and saw them, five men, all sneering down at me.

“You better not make this harder,” one threatened. “Or we’ll kill you now.”

“Not like it matters,” another chuckled. “We’ll end her anyway.”

Their laughter echoed in the dark alley, cruel and mocking.

“Please don’t kill me,” I begged, my voice trembling. “I’ll do anything, everything you want. Why are you doing this? Who sent you?”

“Someone paid us,” one answered simply. “A huge amount. That’s all you need to know.” He squinted at me. “Tell us, are you pregnant?”

My breath hitched. My eyes widened, but I masked my expression instantly and forced myself to shake my head.

“No. I’m not. I’m not pregnant.”

“Are you sure?” another sneered. “We can cut you open and check.”

Terror clawed at my chest. I swallowed hard. These men… they weren’t bluffing. They didn’t care about life. They didn’t care about anything. They will end me without hesitation.

How could I have gotten out of one situation and gotten into another?

“No,” I cried. “I’m not pregnant! Do I even look pregnant?” My tears spilled as I begged. “Please… who sent you? What did I do?”

“We don’t care what you did,” one snapped. “We just do the job.”

One of them pulled out his phone and dialed. The line picked up immediately.

“She says she isn’t pregnant,” he reported.

A voice responded, sharp and cold. A voice I knew.

“Kill her. She’s of no use. I don’t want her alive. Dump the body and make it look like an accident. I’ll send more money to your account. I want her cleared from the face of the earth.”

My heart stopped. Selena.

No… it couldn’t be. But it was her voice. How did she know? Did she suspect I was pregnant when I went home?

The call ended. The men grinned.

“Seems you’re going to die tonight.”

“Please don’t!” I screamed, my chest pounding so hard it hurt.

Two of them struck me at once, the blows ringing in my skull. Another’s fist slammed into my stomach. I gasped, choking on blood as I crumpled. Instinctively, my arms wrapped around my stomach, protecting my baby.

Not my child. Please, not my child.

They kicked again and again, their boots slamming into me as I clung tighter, shielding my belly.

“She might be pregnant,” one muttered. “She’s been guarding her stomach this whole time.”

“It could just be a reflex. She doesn’t look pregnant.”

“And how the hell do pregnant women look?” another snapped.

“Shut up, all of you.” A fist came down hard across my jaw. My head rang. “Die, bitch.”

The world spun. My body screamed in pain.

Then,

“STOP!”

The voice cut through the chaos, sharp, authoritative, feminine. The men froze instantly.

I forced my swollen eyes open. A silhouette emerged from the darkness, heels clicking against the pavement.

“Leave her,” the woman ordered. “Report her dead to whoever sent you.”

The men exchanged glances, then one by one, they backed away, retreating into the shadows. Within seconds, they were gone.

I lay trembling on the cold ground, every inch of me aching. Confusion swirled in my foggy mind. Had I been… saved?

The woman walked closer, her footsteps calm, deliberate. She crouched down, brushing the hair from my battered face.

“Oh, poor child,” she murmured softly. Her hand rested against my cheek.

My vision swam, the world fading to black.

“It’s okay. You’re safe now,” she whispered, patting me gently as darkness claimed me.