Chapter 2 Take Off Your Clothes

The small truck jolted along the unpaved countryside roads, each bump like a slap dragging consciousness back from the depths. One by one, the girls began to stir in the suffocating darkness. The air was thick, the metallic chill clung to terrified skin, and a faint light seeped through a small vent at the top of the rear door-just enough to reveal panic-stricken faces.

Their hands were tied behind their backs. Their mouths sealed with rough tape that gripped their skin the way fear gripped their bones. A heavy silence choked the space. Then-quiet sobs began to trickle through. Trembling whispers. Girls trying, and failing, to hide their terror.

Bella, with hazel hair and dewy skin, blinked slowly, her eyelids heavy as lead. She turned her head with difficulty, finding herself surrounded by still bodies that shivered with every jolt of the vehicle. There was no room for doubt-she had been taken.

Her heart pounded like war drums. Fear sank its teeth into her.

She trembled as the last memory hit her...

She had been laughing. Surrounded by friends at Rose's birthday party. Warm lights, the scent of cake, cheerful music from Rose's phone-everything had felt normal, safe. A night of innocence.

Rose-dark-haired, sharp-eyed-was Bella's closest friend. They had shared photos, danced silly dances, whispered secrets. Around ten-thirty, Bella had picked up her phone, called her mother, and asked if her father could come pick her up.

A minute later-maybe less-came the reply: "Your father's on his way."

She hugged Rose goodbye and stepped outside, confident, certain someone was waiting.

Cold night air brushed her cheeks. She rubbed her palms together, blowing warm breath into them as she walked toward the main road so her father would spot her easily. She scrolled through photos, smiling with quiet joy.

She didn't know... it would be the last smile before everything turned dark.

Suddenly-a strong hand yanked her by the shoulder. A foul-smelling cloth smothered her breath. She turned, trying to scream, but no sound came out. She struggled, but her body was collapsing. Numbness crawled through her limbs. And then-blackness.

Now, the truck was slowing. The jolts became less frequent... until they stopped.

The girls' whispers turned into sobs. Some turned toward the rear door, their faces pale with dread, just as the door creaked open with a heavy metallic groan.

The outside light exposed hard faces-large men, thick-built, with eyes empty of any trace of humanity.

One by one, they began pulling the girls out. Screaming wasn't allowed. Kicks were the only language spoken.

When it was Bella's turn, she clenched her eyes shut. As if hiding inside herself might make it all disappear. Tears soaked her cheeks. Her small nose was red like a ripe cherry from too much crying. A rough hand grabbed her arm. A hoarse voice barked at her to move.

The girls were blindfolded. Their stumbling steps hit damp, narrow walls. The air reeked of disinfectant. Metal. Control.

At the end of the corridor... stood Nancy.

Her thin frame wrapped in a black leather coat. Hair tied back tightly. Eyes colder than carved ice. She knew exactly what awaited the girls-and she was ready to turn them from frightened humans into packaged goods reeking of defeated rebellion.

She barked at her assistants: "Each one in a separate room. Wash them. Prepare them. I don't want a single excuse."

They were led into the showers...

Bella trembled under the blinding white light that exposed everything. She stood helpless, her body shaking uncontrollably. In front of her-Nancy. No smile. No anger. Just the cold stare of someone reading a book they've read too many times.

"Take off your clothes."

The words hit like a blade. Sharp. Merciless.

Bella's eyes widened. Her cracked lips trembled. She couldn't speak. She didn't understand. She couldn't believe.

But the whip didn't wait.

It struck her legs like a fire-tipped arrow. She screamed. Fell. Twisted on the floor in agony. The blow wasn't just on her skin. It tore into her pride, her childhood, her trust in the world.

She cried. But her tears didn't move Nancy.

Nancy just stared, disgusted, and whispered coldly, "Stand up. Or you'll taste the whip again."

Bella raised her head, tears mingling with the water on the floor. She wanted to resist. To beg. To explain.

The whip struck again-this time across her arm. The sound ripped through the silence like a buried scream.

Nancy grabbed her hair. Forced her to her feet. Bella's face twisted with sobs-but she obeyed.

She stripped.

Humiliation swallowed her whole. Then stepped into the freezing water. A shiver ran through her bones. Shame burned hotter than the water ever could.

She stood there, bathing. Stripped of everything that once made her human-while Nancy watched her like a butcher eyeing meat before the cut.

When she stepped out, she was ordered to be silent. They gave her a short, sheer dress that barely covered anything. Her hair was quickly combed, her face painted in a rush. Then forced to line up with the other girls, all burning under Nancy's cold stare.

Nancy unleashed a storm of instructions:

"When you enter the office, don't look him in the eyes. Keep your heads down. Speak only when spoken to. Stand still. Smile. Anything else will be punished."

Bella wasn't listening. Nancy's lips moved-but the voice was gone. Swallowed by the storm inside her.

She was thinking only one thing:

If I could kill this woman... with my bare hands... I would.

They were led to Dante Romano's office-to hell itself.

The girls entered, one by one, like lambs to the slaughter. The room was lavish. Dark wood panels on the walls. A broad desk in the center. Behind it-a man with faded eyes, watching them like a hunter tired of the hunt.

Dante was waiting.

And for each girl-this was the beginning of the end.

---

Elsewhere in the city...

Edward Watson-Bella's father-was running. His steps outpaced his breath. He was on his way to Rose's house. He didn't know what had happened. But he felt it-danger, pressing in.

When he found the door locked, he rang the bell like it was an alarm sounding in his chest.

Rose's father opened the door-and saw a man whose face was on fire with fear.

"I'm Bella's father... I was supposed to find her waiting outside, but... she's not there."

Rose's father paled. Stepped back.

"But she left half an hour ago... She said she'd wait by the main road."

Edward's eyes froze. His heart dropped to his feet.

"No... no, that's impossible. She told me she was waiting here. No... no, please, no..."

He started running. Calling her name. Every face on the street turned to a shapeless shadow. And when he failed-when every road gave him nothing-Rose's father stepped closer, his voice grim and firm:

"We need to call the police."

Edward didn't respond.

He just stared into the void.

Then whispered, with a throat torn by fear:

"Dear God... don't take her from me."

He looked up-his eyes full of dread.

"What happened to my little girl?"

No one had an answer. But he knew-every passing second meant deeper danger.

They rushed toward the nearest police station. And on Edward's face-the look of a man about to lose the one thing he loved most.

He ran, racing against time...

Into a darkness whose end he could not see.