Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption
Chapter 260: Interrogations 1

Chapter 260: Interrogations 1

Davis took a deep breath to recover from his rattled emotions, Jessica patted his face carefully taking note of every changes but then it had turned indifferent. She sighed.

With a click she pushed the door open, Ethan standing by the side, nodded slightly as he arranged the wheelchair standing as a human fence while he eased into the wheelchair with little effort.

The shadow guards quietly spread their tentacles, surveying the environment for any potential harm but then was met with silence and stillness of the vicinity.

The tall building looming tall, cold and quiet in the distance like a sedentary waiting on his employer.

Quietly the trio\ moved forward stopping at a large heavy iron door, it’s light coming up as they stopped at the door.

Ethan places his hand on the biometric after confirmation, it groans heavily as it opens up inward revealing a simple waiting lounge, a flight of stairs descending into the darkness at one side and at the other a computerized elevator needing a pass to be used.

A low hum vibrated beneath their feet, coming from the secured energy grid powering the hidden facility. Hidden deep beneath public records, this place didn’t exist. Not legally. Not morally.

Silently, the trio stepped into the elevator after the identification process with heavy hearts and mixed emotion. Jessica subtly cast a glance at Davis but his expression remained unreadable and cold.

The elevator descended with ease ,it’s light flickering ominously. At the final stop, it dinged open revealing a wide hallway, Davis with practised easy, manoeuvred the wheelchair forward, followed by Ethan and Jessica. A burly heavy built youngman Codenamed ’Stone’, stood, he bowed respectfully in welcoming the group. "Boss, you’re welcome."

Following his words, other voices echoed through the sound system subtly installed in various locations of the hallway "welcome boss". Davis nodded lightly. Stone led the way while they followed behind.

The man skillfully led them through several hallways with the atmosphere, darkness, pungent smell and temperature changing as one progressed further.

The only sound was their footsteps and the creaking of the rusted hinges. The air, thick with dampness and age, carried the unmistakable scent of metal, mold... and old fear.

They passed another checkpoint—a hidden biometric scanner disguised behind an old fuse box. The man placed his palm on it. A soft click sounded as another steel gate hissed open.

The hallway widened into a chamber with thick, barred cells on either side, many empty, some filled with shadows that didn’t move. Chains dangled from walls. Blood stains old and new, decorated the floor like twisted graffiti.

With the smell getting terrible, Jessica felt her stomach churn, her breathing almost coming in gasps. Her footsteps halted. Davis noticed her brief stop and halted. Slowly, he moved over to her ’"Are you okay?" He asked with concern.

Jessica felt her stomach tighten further. She needed to vomit but then she had to control herself. Davis signaled the people around him to give way.

He pulled out some disposable small bags from his pocket and handed them to her. Jessica stared at him with disbelief and surprise. "When did you get this?" She asked.

Davis rubbed his brow. "When you insisted coming with me?" He had expected her nauseous symptoms to act up due to the smell, sight and feeling this damned space will give.

Jessica folded the bag and held it in hand as they continued the journey since she was able to put it under control.

Davis after making sure she is okay, took her hand in his and led her on while he controls his wheelchair with the other.

As they arrived at a darker area, the man flicked a switch on and several sodium lights came up, illuminating a wide hallway.

Jessica glanced around taking note of every feature, Davis held her tightly as she followed with slow deliberate steps. "Still feels like a medieval hellhole."

"It was designed that way," Davis said evenly, his voice echoing against the stone. "Fear is the first confession."

At the end of the corridor, reinforced titanium impenetrable doors stood. A small panel read their identities, scanned their pupils, and unlocked with a hiss of hydraulics.

Beyond lay the Interrogation Sector.

Dimly lit. Soundproofed. Reinforced with lead walls. Surveillance monitors glowed faintly, showing live feeds from each chamber.

The man opened a case and revealed an array of tools—nothing flashy. Just efficient. On the far side, Room 9 had already been prepared. The walls were damp, the chains sterilized, the restraints tested.

"He’s ready," the man reported. "We’ve dosed him. Ethan nodded lightly with an air of indifference.

Jessica stared through the viewing glass, where a young man — Barry was bound, stripped of dignity but not yet of secrets.

Her gaze didn’t blink. "How many days has he been this way?" She asked Stone.

"Three days." Stone’s voice boomed.

She nodded. "Not enough for him to talk." She said with certainty. Stone stared at her speechless.

Davis rolled the wheelchair forward. The doors hissed open again behind him, sealing them into silence.

In this dungeon—truth wasn’t asked for. It was extracted.

Inside the room was colder than usual. The air hung heavy with moisture, dread and fear so thick and suffocating.

Barry sat shirtless chained to a rust-stained chair bolted to the floor wrists above his head. His chest bore an old tattoo—a black dagger with a serpent coiled around it. His face was swollen, his lips split from repeated blows.

Jessica glanced at the tattoo "Brotherhood of the dagger and serpent?" She murmured.

His back bore the signs of a night spent in this hell—welts, bruises, burns, and angry red lines where a whip had kissed his flesh.

Sweat poured down his temple, mixing with blood and grime. Yet his eyes, darting like a cornered rat, still held onto resistance. Blood had dried and cracked along his spine, sticky against the wall and the chair.

Davis approached him, his eyes cold and menacing, his wheelchair crackling over the floor. Jessica stood beside him, her expression unreadable, though her hands were clenched behind her back as she studied the man’s features.

Ethan approached the man slowly, wearing gloves now. His boots echoed across the room. A small trolley of steel tools with various shapes and purposes stood beside him.

Davis stretched out his hand, Stone hurriedly handed him a pair of pliers, a cold smirk playing on his lips as rolled towards the chained man who tried to back away from him but was held in place by the chain.

Twirling the pliers in his hand "are you ready to speak?" He asked menacingly that the man shivered at his aura yet remained mute.

"We’ve been patient," Ethan said quietly. "Too patient." "You wouldn’t like to provoke him."

Davis approached unhurriedly, Ethan grabbed Barry’s hand to hold it in place for Davis.

Barry’s eyes widened. "No... no, no, no, please—"

The scream tore through the chamber as a fingernail was ripped clean off.

Davis’s eyes didn’t move. Jessica flinched—just once.

Another nail.

Another scream.

By the third, Barry was shaking, hyperventilating, blood dripping down his palm. "Please! Please, I’ll talk! I’ll talk—!"

Ethan raised a brow. "Then talk."

"It was... it was a planned hit," Barry choked. "The order came from a middleman. Code name: Silence. He coordinated the crash timing, I only drove the truck."

Ethan grabbed a cloth and wiped the pliers Davis handed to him slowly.

"Who does he work for?"

"I... I don’t know his real name," Barry panted for breath. "But he drove a black Chrysler. Every time. Had a serpent tattoo on his left forearm. Said the job came from ’high above.’ Someone that wanted Davis erased quietly, but cleanly."

Jessica hit a switch beside her, and the metal restraints pulled him up swiftly from the chair, his scream tore through the room and without any chance to catch his breath, it gave way.

Barry collapsed to the floor, whimpering, his hands trembling uncontrollably.

She stepped out of Davis back, sliding on her nose mask and walked over the hyperventilating man.

Ethan’s eyes widened with fear. Nobody had explained the use of that switch to her and seeing her act reminded him of something else about her—The Mafian goddaughter.

Quietly, he stepped aside, Jessica Knelt beside the man, she held up an electric shock baton, its tip crackling.

"Your hands won’t be your only loss if you lie again," she said, voice glacial. "What happened to Davis’s parents? Before Davis’ accident last year, you handled his parents’ case decades ago and it was your first job, right?"

Barry swallowed hard, his eyes darting away. Never had he imagined her finding out. Davis felt confused as he stared at Jessica.

The report had mentioned that a different driver caused his parent’s death and he was expecting to visit him after this but then her question seems she knows something, he didn’t.

"I...I.. don’t...know what you ... .are talking about." He smirked

Jessica nodded lightly, a faint helpless sigh escaping her lips. Without warning, she pressed the baton lightly to his leg. A jolt surged through him. His body twisted in agony.

"Wait! Wait!!," he screamed at the top of his voice. She released him briefly, as she sighed.

"Don’t make things difficult for yourself, I am not always patient." She murmured lightly.

Barry glared at her, his eyes flickering between familiarity and unfamiliarity. His thoughts worked to piece her identity but her voice interrupted it.

"They didn’t die on impact. But someone finished it up at the hospital. Who is it?" She asked, her voice kind and soft but the tone ice cold.

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