Chapter 32

The reinforced door slid shut behind him with a soft, final hiss, sealing them inside the isolated cell. The air here was cooler, tinged with the faint metallic scent of reinforced concrete and the sterile cleanliness of the estate’s most hidden facilities. Dim, clinical lighting cast long shadows across the stark room, making the space feel smaller, more oppressive. In the center of it all stood Elias Voss, impeccably dressed in a dark suit, his posture relaxed yet radiating absolute command.

“Hello, Sam,” he said, his voice low, smooth, and ominously calm — like the quiet before a storm that had already decided the fate of everything it touched.

Samantha’s hollow eyes snapped up, widening in raw, animal terror. For a second she froze, as if hoping the vision of him was some drug-induced hallucination. Then the reality crashed over her.

“Please, Elias ... Elias, my love,” she whispered hoarsely, her voice cracking. In a desperate scramble, she slid off the thin bed and fell to her knees, crawling forward until she pressed her forehead against the floor at his feet. Her thin robe slipped from one shoulder, exposing pale, bruised skin. “Please ... it wasn’t me. It was all Viktor. He manipulated me. He used me. I never wanted to betray you, I swear—”

“Right,” Elias interrupted, the single word cutting through her frantic begging like a blade. He didn’t move, didn’t bend to her. He simply looked down at her with detached, clinical interest, as though she were a specimen on a slide.

“Listen, Sam,” he continued, his tone almost conversational, almost kind. “I don’t have time for this performance. Just tell me everything I need to know about Viktor and his alliances — every contact, every plan, every hidden asset — and I will let you go. Clean slate. Freedom. You can walk out of here today.”

Samantha lifted her head, eyes wide and shimmering with desperate hope. “I don’t know, Elias. I swear I don’t know anything. He never told me the details. He just used me as a pawn—”

“And you’re still lying,” Elias murmured, clicking his tongue softly in disappointment. “Tsk tsk. That is not good, Sam. Not good at all.”

He took a slow step closer, the polished leather of his shoes stopping just inches from her trembling hands.

“You know, Sam,” he said, his voice dropping into something darker, more intimate, “I have a very specific use for women like you in Project B. You would make an excellent addition. Your genetics ... your beauty ... they’re quite valuable. You could do a great deal of good for society.”

Samantha’s breath hitched. She stared up at him, confusion and dread warring in her hollow eyes.

“Project B?” she whispered.

Elias smiled faintly — a cold, elegant curve of his lips that never reached his eyes.

“It’s a program for criminal women like yourself. Instead of wasting away in isolation or being executed, you get to serve a higher purpose. You can produce children. Strong, healthy children. We can harvest one every year if your body holds up well. Two, four ... perhaps more. Your beauty and genetics would be put to excellent use. And before that begins, of course, we can harvest your limbs for another ongoing research project. You won’t be needing them once you’re pregnant, will you?”

He chuckled softly — a low, chilling sound that echoed in the cold cell.

Samantha’s face drained of what little color it had left. Her body began to shake violently as the full horror of his words sank in.

“No...” she breathed. “No ... no, please ... no...”

She scrambled backward on her knees, eyes wide with pure, primal terror.

“I’ll tell you everything!” she cried out, voice breaking into a sob. “Everything I know! Viktor’s contacts, the meetings, the money routes — everything! Just please ... please don’t do that to me. I’ll talk. I swear I’ll talk!”

Elias regarded her trembling form for a long, silent moment, his expression unreadable. The faint smile remained on his lips, but his eyes were ice.

“Wise choice,” he said quietly. “Start talking, Sam. And do not leave anything out. Because if I sense even the slightest lie ... we will begin your new role in Project B immediately.”

Samantha nodded frantically, tears streaming down her hollow cheeks as she began to speak in a rushed, broken voice — spilling every secret she had desperately tried to keep hidden.

───

Later that morning, in the secure observation suite high in the main residence, Elias stood with his arms loosely crossed, watching the live feed from the isolated cell. Beside him, Jasmine observed with cool, professional interest, her sharp eyes missing nothing.

On the screen, the interrogation had only just begun. Samantha knelt broken at Elias’s feet, she frantically spilled secrets about Viktor — who was himself currently held in another wing of the estate, heavily sedated and awaiting his own reckoning.

“She’s holding up better than expected for the first round,” Jasmine noted, a faint smile playing on her lips. “But the new hallucinogenic compound should accelerate things nicely.”

Elias nodded, his expression calm and calculating. “I won’t be handling the deeper sessions myself. I intend to have Veyra take over. She will administer the mind technique repeatedly — multiple injections over the coming days. Samantha will hallucinate the limb removal procedure again and again: the saw, the blood, the screams, the cold clinical detachment as her body is systematically taken apart. Veyra is exceptionally skilled at guiding those visions. By the time she’s finished, Samantha’s mind will no longer be able to distinguish between threat and reality.”

On the monitor, Samantha’s voice cracked as she babbled about Viktor’s European contacts and the Swiss lab. Her eyes were already glazing slightly from the first low-dose injection Elias had administered moments earlier to soften her resistance.

Jasmine leaned closer to the screen, watching Samantha’s growing panic with clinical appreciation. “An excellent choice. Veyra’s precision with the compounds is unmatched. The hallucinations will make her far more pliable than simple drugs or threats alone. And since Viktor is already in our custody, her information will help us dismantle his remaining network piece by piece.”

Elias’s lips curved into a cold, satisfied smile as Samantha began sobbing harder, already starting to twitch from the first waves of induced terror.

“Let her believe her cooperation might save her. Veyra will extract everything we need — cleanly, thoroughly, and without my direct involvement. I have other matters to attend to.”

The two continued watching in silence as Samantha’s desperate confessions poured out, her body trembling with the first hints of the nightmares that Veyra would soon make devastatingly real. In the world they had built, truth was extracted not just through pain, but through the elegant destruction of the mind itself.

As the footage continued to play — Samantha’s broken voice filling the room with more names, dates, and hidden accounts — Jasmine tilted her head slightly, her gaze shifting from the screen to Elias. The delicate silver collar at her throat caught the light with every small movement, a private emblem of ownership that contrasted sharply with her poised, confident exterior.

“How is Lena?” she asked softly, her voice carrying quiet empathy. “After everything she has been through..., It must have been quite a shock to her system.”

Elias’s expression softened almost imperceptibly. “She is ... adjusting,” he replied, pride threading through his words. “There were tears. Fear. Confusion. But she is beginning to understand her place.”

Jasmine smiled gently, her fingers brushing the silver collar almost absentmindedly. “I could spend some time with her, if you wish, Sir. As one who has walked a similar path. I wasn’t always like this, you know. When my husband first brought me into the lifestyle, I fought it with every breath. I was independent, ambitious, fiercely self-reliant — the last woman anyone would imagine kneeling. At first, he insisted. Then he forced the issue — slowly, methodically, breaking down my resistance with patience and unrelenting dominance. There were nights I hated him for it. Nights I cried and raged against the collar, the protocols, the complete loss of control.”

Her voice grew softer, more introspective, as memories surfaced. “But somewhere along the way ... I began to like it. The surrender became a release. The structure, a sanctuary. What started as coercion bloomed into something profound. Now I wear this collar with pride. I serve him 24/7 — quietly, completely, joyfully. During the day I maintain the appearance of independence because he allows it. It pleases him to see me move through the world with grace and confidence, knowing that the moment we are alone, I kneel at his feet without hesitation.”

Jasmine lifted her eyes to Elias, steady and sincere. “Lena might find comfort in knowing that even the most resistant hearts can come to crave this life. That the breaking, however painful at first, can lead to a deeper peace than she ever imagined possible. I would be honored to speak with her — not as someone who was born for submission, but as someone who learned to love it.”

Elias regarded her for a long moment, a flicker of respect in his gaze. He let out a low, amused chuckle. “The last thing I want is for Lena to become close friends with you, Jasmine. You might put all the wrong ideas in her head — too many whispered stories of resistance, perhaps even the notion that she could test her own boundaries against mine.”

He paused, considering, then gave a small, reluctant nod. “But ... alright. Carefully. She could use the perspective of a woman who has walked through fire and emerged grateful for the flames.”