In a dimly lit basement, the stench of sweat, blood, and smoke hung heavy in the air. A low groan echoed from the far end, where a man sat slumped in a chair — wrists bound tightly behind him, face battered and bloodied. His breathing was shallow, broken by occasional coughs and weak cries.
Two men towered over him, fists bruised and soaked. One cracked his knuckles, the other paced, agitated. They were relentless, methodical — not in a hurry, just doing their job.
By the wall stood another figure, still and silent, almost detached from the violence before him. A cigarette hung between his fingers, the ember casting a faint glow across his unreadable face. He inhaled slowly, then exhaled a thick cloud of smoke, eyes never leaving the broken man in the chair.
Without a word, Caleb entered the basement, the sound of the metal door creaking behind him.
"He's been down here since our last meeting," Caleb said quietly, stopping a few feet from Tristan. "Still hasn't talked."
Tristan flicked ash from his cigarette and spoke without turning. His voice was calm, dangerously quiet. "Then he's wasting our time."
He turned finally, dark eyes glinting with cold resolve. "Drag him to the torture room. I want him to *spill*—every damn thing. Names. Places. Motives. If he so much as breathes wrong, break another bone."
The two men nodded instantly, grabbing the prisoner roughly and dragging him toward the back, where another iron door waited like the jaws of hell.
As they disappeared, screams echoed faintly from inside the room — muffled, tortured, begging.
Tristan walked away, never once glancing back.
Power wasn't about noise. It was about silence — and what happened in the shadows.
---
Saphina was home, folding laundry absentmindedly, when her phone buzzed. The name on the screen made her blink: *Jack*.
She hesitated for a second before answering.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Saphina." His voice was smooth and friendly. "I was wondering… do you have any plans this weekend? Maybe a little time to unwind?"
She smiled faintly. "Actually, I'm free today."
"Perfect," Jack replied. "Want to hang out for a bit? Coffee? Just talk."
Saphina paused. She wasn't the type to say yes easily, but Jack had been kind the other day. And honestly… she could use a break.
"Okay," she said softly.
"Great. Just tell me where to meet. I'll pick you up."
She didn't feel ready to share her address yet, so she offered a nearby bookstore as the meetup spot.
"Alright," he said. "I'll be there by five."
By evening, the sun had dipped low, casting an amber glow over the streets. Saphina stood near the bookstore in a simple blouse and jeans — not expensive, but neat. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, soft curls framing her face.
Jack arrived right on time, stepping out of a sleek black sedan. His look was casual, but stylish — he wore confidence like a second skin.
"Wow," he said when he saw her. "You look beautiful."
Saphina blushed slightly. "Thanks. You're not looking bad yourself."
They walked together to a cozy nearby coffee shop — the kind with brick walls, warm lighting, and a gentle hum of quiet conversation. They ordered coffee and found a corner booth.
"So…" Jack leaned back, sipping. "Tell me something about you that's not on a résumé."
Saphina laughed. "I hate sardines. And I talk to myself when I'm stressed."
He chuckled. "That's honest. I respect that."
They spoke for a while about life — her struggles after losing her parents, his vague stories about traveling and "dealing with business" (though he didn't elaborate). There was charm in their ease, a kind of friendly connection growing quietly between them.
But just as Saphina was beginning to feel comfortable, a loud voice interrupted their moment.
"Are you serious, David?! After *everything*?"
Everyone turned. At a nearby table, a young woman stood, face flushed and eyes glassy with unshed tears. Across from her sat a man — clearly unbothered.
"I told you what this was," he said coldly. "You gave me what I wanted. That's it."
The girl slapped him hard. A sharp *crack* echoed through the café. Gasps followed.
David lunged forward, fury flashing in his eyes. But before he could strike back, Jack stood up — and so did Saphina.
"Hey!" Jack barked, stepping between them. "Back off. You don't hit a woman."
The guy sneered. "This isn't your business."
Jack's eyes darkened. "It is now."
David scoffed and backed away, looking past Saphina. "This isn't over," he growled at the heartbroken girl behind her. "You'll regret this."
With that, he stormed out.
The girl sank to her chair, shoulders trembling. Saphina knelt beside her, gently rubbing her arm. "It's okay," she whispered. "He won't hurt you ,i won't let that happen"
The girl burst into tears. Saphina stayed with her until she calmed.
Meanwhile, Jack stood quietly, watching everything without a word.
The coffee shop had slowly returned to its quiet buzz, but at the corner booth, emotions still lingered thick in the air. The girl who had just been humiliated sat silently, shoulders hunched, face buried in her hands.
Saphina sat beside her, gently rubbing her back, whispering soft, calming words. Jack stood nearby, watching with arms folded, his face unreadable but still.
After a few minutes, the girl wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve and took a deep breath. Her eyes were red, but there was a new steadiness in them now — the kind that follows a storm.
Saphina gave her a warm smile. "Do you want to talk about it?"
The girl shook her head. "I don't even know what to say… I feel stupid."
Jack leaned on the table slightly. "You're not stupid. You trusted the wrong person. That's all. It happens to the best of us."
She looked up at them for the first time properly — and her expression shifted from embarrassment to awe. She stared at Jack for a long moment, as if studying every inch of the man who stepped in to protect her. Her gaze softened.
Then she turned to Saphina, her voice low. "You're both… kind. Thank you for stepping in."
Jack offered a nod and a small smile. The girl asked of his name "Name's Jack," he said simply.
"I'm Saphina," Saphina added with a warm tone.
The girl smiled faintly, almost shyly. "I'm Liana. Thank you both. Really."
Saphina reached for her hand gently. "Are you okay to go home?"
Liana hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah, I'll be okay. I have family that looks out for me. I just… needed to cry it out."
Saphina looked at her closely — her youthful face, soft features, and fragile aura. "You look so young, Liana. How old are you?"
"I'll be eighteen next week," Liana replied, brushing her hair behind her ears. "Just seventeen for now."
Saphina smiled. "Wow, you're so strong for your age. Happy early birthday."
"Thanks," she replied with a little blush.
"Do you want us to drop you off at home?" Saphina offered. "It's getting dark, and I wouldn't want you walking alone after all that."
Liana looked at them again, and for a moment, her eyes settled deeply on Jack. She stared long enough but didn't make it noticeable . Then she turned back to Saphina and nodded. "I'd really like that."
They walked outside together, the night air crisp and filled with distant city sounds. Jack opened the door for both women like a gentleman. Liana climbed into the backseat, still sneaking glances at him now and then, while Saphina sat in the front.
As they drove off, Liana turned her head to the window, watching the streetlights blur by. But inside her head, only one word echoed, wrapped in wonder.
*Jack.*
The name of the man who had stood up for her. The name of the man whose presence pulled her out of darkness — even just for a moment.
She didn't know who he truly was.
But she just want him close to her
*He was more than just more than a stranger*