“Alright, so are we heading in now to sign the contract and get the money?”
I was hauled to my feet by two large men, their grip like iron. They dragged me toward the factory. Just then, a small car pulled up—it was my sister's car!
Desperately, I struggled against their hold, throwing myself toward the moving vehicle. The car screeched to a halt, and the back door swung open.
My sister stepped out, her heels clicking sharply on the pavement. She frowned as she looked down at me, sprawled in the dirt.
“Fionna! It’s me! I’m your little brother!”
I tried to call out, but my voice was hoarse and broken. I stared up at her, silently pleading for help.
Instead of the rescue I’d hoped for, Fionna—a woman I once trusted—yanked me up roughly and slapped me across the face.
“You little punk! How dare you cause trouble for our boss!”
The slap was so hard, I coughed up blood, splattering it onto her pristine high heels.
Horrified, Hazel knelt down, hurriedly wiping her shoes clean.
“I’m sorry, Boss,” she said, groveling. “This new brat is making a scene. I’ll take care of it!” Another woman, Shannon, joined her, crouching down to assist. Meanwhile, I lay in the dirt, watching helplessly as they ignored my suffering.
Fionna, it’s me! I’m Alan!
Fionna narrowed her eyes at me. “New arrival, huh?”
“Yes,” Hazel—the one who had dragged me in—replied quickly. “But he’s trouble. We had to rough him up. He even cursed at us!”
Fionna tilted her head thoughtfully. “Hmm... first time here and already causing problems? What’s his background?”
“A college graduate, Boss. Top of his class.” Shannon seized the moment to chime in.
My sister’s gaze lingered on me, her expression softening for a brief moment. “If Alan were still alive... he’d be about that age. Probably just graduated from college too…”
Hearing her say my name, my heart raced. I struggled against my restraints, shouting with what little strength I had left.
“Sis! It’s me! I’m Alan!”
“Shut up!” Hazel barked, kicking me square in the face.
Pain exploded as my wounds reopened, blood seeping freely. My tongue was swollen, my mouth mangled—I couldn’t form the words I so desperately wanted to say. All I could do was cry out in agony.
“Huh?” My sister paused, crouching down to get a closer look at me. For a fleeting moment, I thought she recognized me. But as I tried to speak, I coughed up another mouthful of blood, splattering it across her face.
Both Hazel and Shannon froze in shock. They scrambled to clean her up, one wiping her face while the other dragged me toward the factory.
Inside, an iron bucket brimming with filthy water waited ominously. Hazel didn’t hesitate. She grabbed me by the hair and shoved my face into the murky liquid.
The foul water rushed into my mouth and nose, cutting off my air. My lungs screamed for oxygen, my body convulsing in panic. When I thought I’d drown, she yanked me up by the hair, only to slam me back under again.
Over and over, the cycle repeated. I lost track of time, my strength fading with each agonizing second. Finally, she threw me to the ground like a piece of garbage.
“Boss,” Shannon said, turning to my sister. “This brat dared to offend you. What should we do with him? Maybe we start by pulling out his nails and then treat him to some ‘pearl milk tea’?”
Terror shot through me at her words. I’d seen what they meant by “pearl milk tea.” It wasn’t a drink—it was torture, designed to break even the strongest men.
This was it. My turn had come. I stared at my sister, praying for mercy. But her eyes burned with cold fury.
“Do what you want,” she said, her voice devoid of emotion. I closed my eyes, accepting my fate. As the world darkened, a strange calm washed over me. I’d see Mom and Dad soon. At least in death, I wouldn’t be alone.
