Ten months of sin

The streets of Madrid were quiet that night, the kind of silence that hummed with secrets. The kind of silence that came with ease,peace.... but not for Emily.. Emily slid the last chair beneath the table, wiped her tired hands on her apron, and reached for the café keys. She had been working since morning, and her bones ached with the kind of exhaustion that had nothing to do with work alone. It was the exhaustion of carrying too much, of living each day like a war she couldn't afford to lose.

She looked around for any other thing she needed to do before leaving... Since she was done for the night, she took off the apron, wore her coat, grabbed her keys and stepped outside; locking up behind her. The night air was sharp, tasting faintly of rain. She glanced down the street, expecting the usual emptiness, but then she heard the faint sound of a car engine and withing seconds it became louder. The car pulled up with speed in front of the cafe store; right in front of Emily.

Emily froze... confused and scared. The men dressed in black suits came down. Their faces hard and their eyes like shadows.They all walked towards her like bees attracted to honey. " Who are you?" the words flew out of her mouth.Panic flared in her chest, and her first instinct was to run-but her body wouldn't move. She looked around for anyone while slowly backing away, but that wasn't of help... It didn't make a difference. Two of her steps back was one step towards her. Something in their walk, in their silence, screamed danger.

And then she saw him...Micheal...Her Michael.

He stood just beyond the streetlight, half-hidden in the shadows. For one fragile moment, relief almost brought tears to her eyes. Maybe he'd come to walk her home. Maybe this was all a mistake. But then she saw it-the papers in his hands. The same papers he had once pressed into hers with a gentle smile and soft words about a loan that would save her sister. The same papers she'd signed without reading, too desperate, too trusting.

Her stomach dropped.

Her sister's words came back to her like a knife to the gut: 'Don't trust anyone...No one.'

"Michael?" Her voice cracked, half disbelief, half plea. " Michael!!!" hoping it wasn't what she thought it was, but he didn't flinch... he just stood there and kept on looking. "What's happening?"

He didn't answer. His expression was unreadable-almost calm, almost satisfied.

The men reached her, their grips iron on her arms as she struggled. Panic surged, but so did anger. She twisted, kicked, clawed, even bit one on the wrist... but they didn't flinch. One of them leaned close, his voice a low growl laced with an accent that wasn't Spanish.

"Boss is waiting." Her blood turned cold.

She looked at Michael again, waiting for him to intervene, to explain, to do anything-but he only adjusted his cuffs and