floor is stone too and fitting to the homes in the tropical isles. I contemplated that yesterday because of the heat but couldn’t be sure.
We move down a set of stairs, also made of stone and once we go down them, I take in my surroundings.
There’s a kitchen ahead of us where two people are cooking and there are two men at the end of another corridor that leads outside.
To our right, and about twenty feet away is a door that looks like the front door to the house.
Tristan leads me over to a room where his brother stands by a large TV screen attached to the wall.
Candace isn’t in here. It’s just the three of us.
There’s a chair in the center of the room where Tristan sets me down.
“What is happening?” I ask.
“Something I’m hoping will coerce you into telling me where your father is,” Tristan replies and all I can do is stare back at him knowing whatever this is, it can’t be good.
His brother switches on the TV and when the image of Sacha’s beaten face comes on, I gasp, and shock makes me bolt to my feet.
“No,” I breathe out.
They got Sacha. They have him. He’s tied to a chair and there’s a man standing over him with a long reach knife. Sacha’s face is beaten so badly I can barely recognize him.
I look to Tristan and shake my head.
He thinks this is going to make me talk? It won’t because I don’t know anything.
“Please don’t do this,” I beg. “I don’t know where my father is.”
“This man has the same mantra as you. He doesn’t know where your father is either, yet he works for him. You are his daughter, and you have no idea where to find your father. Tell me where he is, or your Sacha is dead.”
A stone drops in the pit of my stomach and I gaze back at Tristan in utter disbelief. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I can’t believe he could be so cruel.
“I don’t know where my father is. Please let Sacha go.”
Tristan looks from me to the screen and nods his head. At that the man next to Sacha switches something on and Sacha’s body starts convulsing. Sparks of white light ripple off his body and I scream when I see its electricity. They’re torturing him. Electrocuting him.
As Sacha screams , I cry and just like when Eric was killed, I feel helpless. I can’t help him. I can’t do anything. This time I’m not being bound, but I’m still being made to watch.
Sacha screams and I look at Tristan who’s staring at me with a hardened gaze.
As our eyes lock, I see destruction. At the same time, I also see another path, one I have to try and take to save the only person who’s been like a father to me.
I rush forwards and grab on to Tristan’s shirt, hoping against hope that I can appeal to the man I met in the park. I search his piercing blue eyes and try to see beyond the storm brewing within them. I try to find the man I was drawn to and hope I can reach him.
“Please stop this Tristan,” I wail. “Look at me. You did this to make me cave and tell you where my father is. I can’t.”
“Isabella, I need you to tell me where your father is.”
“This is wrong, you must know that. It’s all so very wrong and I don’t believe this is really you. Please.” I’m begging. I’ve resorted to begging because it’s all I can do. “None of this is going to bring the dead back.”
“That’s not the point. Your father has to answer for his crimes.”
“Yes, I agree with you. But this isn’t the way. Tristan… Sacha is like a father to me. Not the devil you seek. The other day you said you would have tried to save Eric if you could. If you meant it, stop this. It’s madness. Save the living. Have compassion on the living. Don’t become worse than Mortimer Viggo. You aren’t. Don’t take away the last person I have left in this world. Please….”
I hold his gaze not knowing if he’s going to listen to me or kill Sacha.
He looks away from me, switching his focus back to the man on the TV screen and stares, looking on in deep contemplation while Sacha screams in pain. Seconds pass that feel like eons then Tristan shakes his head.