After I Restored His Sight, He Abandoned Me

The basement's damp walls seemed to close in around me as Tiffany paced before my bound form, her designer heels clicking against the concrete floor.

"I can't breathe," she gasped suddenly, clutching at her chest. "I can't breathe when she looks at me like that."

I strained against the leather restraints, my wrists raw from hours of struggle. "Tiffany, please—"

A sharp crack interrupted me as Lucian's hand connected with my cheek.

"Don't speak to her directly," he snarled. "You're not worthy of addressing her."

Tiffany's panic attack was a masterful performance—eyes wide with terror, breathing shallow and rapid. She curled against Lucian's chest, trembling visibly.

"She's triggering my depression," Tiffany whimpered. "The sight of her... knowing she wants to take you away from me..."

Lucian's gray eyes—the ones I'd restored with my own hands—hardened as he looked at me. "We need to correct this behavior."

From a metal case on the table, he withdrew a sleek black device. My blood ran cold as I recognized the taser.

"Every time she speaks without permission," Lucian explained to Tiffany, his voice clinical, "we'll administer a small correction."

The first shock came when I begged them to stop. The voltage was low—just enough to send waves of pain through my nervous system without leaving permanent damage.

"Stop," I gasped through clenched teeth.

Another shock. This one longer.

"See?" Lucian said to Tiffany. "She's learning already."

Tiffany's lips curved into a smile that never reached her eyes. "Good girl," she cooed. "Maybe there's hope for you yet."

---

"Who paid for it?" Lucian demanded, his face inches from mine.

I kept my eyes fixed on the ceiling, refusing to answer. The waterboarding had started as an interrogation technique but had quickly devolved into torture for its own sake.

"Dr. Vasquez doesn't come cheap," he continued, circling me like a predator. "A volunteer? Living in that pathetic apartment? Don't insult my intelligence."

The cloth over my face was soaked again. I tried to twist away as he poured more water, but the restraints held me firm.

"Tell me who's behind this," he shouted, his composure cracking. "What organization? What government?"

When I remained silent, he ripped the cloth away, grabbing my hair. "You think I'm stupid? That I wouldn't figure it out?"

"Figure what out?" I choked, water still filling my lungs.

"That you're not who you claim to be." His fingers dug into my scalp. "That someone with your resources doesn't just randomly save a blind nobody."

The irony was almost laughable—if I could breathe through the water filling my throat.

"I'm a liar?" I managed between gasps. "You're the one who promised to love me forever."

His face contorted with rage. "You're trying to manipulate me! Just like everyone else!"

The cloth went back over my face. More water. This time, I truly thought I might drown.

As darkness edged my vision, a terrible clarity washed over me: the man I loved was gone—perhaps had never existed at all.

---

"Up," Tiffany commanded, shoving me toward the balcony's edge.

The harness she'd forced me into was clearly defective—straps too loose, buckles not fully secured. But I wasn't in a position to refuse.

"Perfect," Tiffany murmured, adjusting her camera. "This will make an excellent test video for my new line."

Lucian stood beside her, arms crossed, watching with clinical detachment. "Make sure you capture the impact," he instructed. "We need to know how well the safety features perform."

"Or don't perform," Tiffany added with a smirk.

They'd dragged me to the villa's third-floor balcony at dawn. Below, a tangle of ornamental shrubs offered little protection from the hard ground beyond.

"Ready?" Tiffany asked, not bothering to hide her excitement.

I closed my eyes, feeling the harness shift uncomfortably around my torso. "The straps are too loose."

"Shut up," Tiffany snapped. "You're not the expert here."

With a shove from behind, I found myself over the edge, the world tilting sickeningly as I began to rappel down the building's facade.

Halfway down, I heard the sickening pop of equipment failing. The line jerked violently in my hands before giving way entirely.

Time slowed as I plummeted toward the ground. I twisted desperately, trying to protect my head as I crashed through the decorative shrubs and onto the hard earth beyond.

Pain exploded through my arm with a sickening crack. Above me, laughter drifted down from the balcony.

"Perfect!" Tiffany's voice floated on the morning breeze. "Absolutely perfect footage."

I looked up through a haze of pain to see her snapping photos, Lucian at her side, both silhouetted against the brightening sky like demons surveying their domain.

As darkness crept into the edges of my vision, one thought crystallized with perfect clarity: This wasn't just about punishment anymore. They were playing with me—and I was breaking.

But so, I realized with growing certainty, were they. And someone would pay for it.