"Anonymous asked: A modernised version of storm and silence e.g. Rikkard is a ceo of some company and Lillian's his secretary"

Yes, I'm back. After what probably feels like 3423784328 years. In all seriousness, these past 3 months have been really hectic for me. If you follow my tumblr, then you might have noticed that this prompt goes out of order than the prompt order list given on my Tumblr blog. I usually answer prompt requests in the order they're sent to me but I'm doing something a little different now. There's an explanation at the end of the chapter.

The air was heavy and musty. Dust permeated the space and clogged her nostrils, almost carrying a distinct scent.

Faint buzzing registered her ears, growing louder as the seconds passed by. The buzzing morphed into voices. Deep, low voices.

She faintly stirred. Well, as much as one could when they were tied to a chair.

"Well, well, well. Look who's finally awake." A mocking voice spoke up.

With considerable effort, she cracked open her eyes. She stared down at her blurred lap. Her vision cleared and her torn skirt came into view, streaked with dust and a questionable white substance.

She slowly straightened her neck and stiff muscles screamed in protest. Definitely a cramp or two. The incessant pounding in her head was impossible to ignore. She winced.

In front of her stood a small group of men, some leering down at her, others looking bored. They were not the friendliest bunch, with their burly demeanours and less-than-welcoming expressions.

Her eyes narrowed as her gaze flitted between them. Confused, she was ready to demand where she was. Glancing around, she saw what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse, with light faintly streaming in through the cracked high windows.

"Mmph-mmp-hm?"

Oh. She hadn't realised that she had also been gagged. But now she was keenly aware, the cloth gag bound so tightly it dug into her skin, scraping against her tongue. She could taste cigarettes, sweat and dirt. Focusing all of her energy, she managed to suppress the rising bile in her throat.

With her main way of communication blocked, she used another. She craned her neck, squinting up at the brawny man standing closest to her. She surmised he was the leader of the group, with his infuriating smirk and beady eyes.

"You remember how you got here, girlie?"

She blinked, trying to remember. Then…

She had been briskly walking on her way to work. As she had passed an alley, someone yanked her inside. She struggled vainly, her captor too strong and quick. A handkerchief had descended into her vision, a meaty hand pressing it to her face. The next moment, darkness.

She glared at the man, whose smirk had stretched into a menacing smile.

"You're wondering why you're here, aren't you, girlie? Our client said your boss took something from him. So he kindly wanted to return the favour. He requested us to teach your boss a lesson, starting with you, girlie."

This time another set of images materialised.

A business stench of cigars. Tension between the two men in the dark bar. Then yelling. The older man's puce face matching his drink. His loud footsteps as he stormed out. But not before a passing furtive glance at her.

Her eyebrows crossed together, conveying her disdain.

"Don't take it personally, girlie. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Blame your boss man for it."

"Mm-mmph!"

"Right, I almost forgot. Hatcher, remove the gag. If she tries to scream, tie it back on." His eyes flashed in warning, never leaving hers.

A short, portly man stepped forward. He tugged roughly at the cloth, the knot embedded into her hair. After a few aggressive pulls, he removed the cloth— as well as a few strands. She refused to flinch, but her tense, scrunched expression gave her away.

As soon as the henchman stepped back, she flexed her jaw, shifting it from side to side. She coughed, hoping to push out the lingering taste of the repulsive cloth. Her teeth bit into her dried tongue and she spat, only relieving some of the odour.

She looked back up at the leader and hoarsely spoke. "What do you hope to achieve?"

"Not much." He grinned, his stained teeth clearly showing that he didn't prioritise oral hygiene. "Just sending a message."

"What message? That both you and your client have a death wish?"

This time, he glared at her. "Watch your words, girlie. Mind your tone too."

"What do you plan to do to me?" She frowned.

That's it. Keep him talking, she thought. Behind her, her hands began to move slowly, testing the restraining bonds. Good thing the fool was cheap enough to use duct tape.

"That depends on how you behave, girlie. Cooperate and we'll do the same. Otherwise you'll regret it."

"Your client must be pathetically desperate to hire a group of lowlifes like you." She ground out impulsively.

Slap!

The resounding hit burned across her cheek, the sudden force so swift she heard something crack.

"I said, cooperate." The leader snarled out, rubbing at his knuckles as he leaned in inches away from her. His hot, putrid breath fanned across her face. "That was your final warning, girlie."

She scowled and turned her head away, struggling against the rope that tied her torso and arms to the chair.

That will definitely leave a bruise, she fumed. At least the bastard didn't tie the rope tight enough. If only I could get to my pocketknife. I'll need a distraction…

"Boss!" Footsteps echoed as a henchman ran into the dim warehouse. "A guy is outside. He matches our client's description. He demanded that we let her go."

The henchman's chin jerked towards her and she felt relief wash over her. However, she kept her face carefully blank.

"Take him down. I want him here alive. He's in no position to give orders." The leader snarled.

The henchman nodded and ran back out. No less than two minutes later, shouts could be heard from outside.

Then silence.

"Spread out!" The leader barked out. "Half of you outside! The rest of you stay here!"

The group followed his orders, the remaining thugs spreading out around the warehouse's entrance.

"And you, girlie." His beady eyes cut to her. "Don't think I've forgotten about you. You try anything funny and…"

His hand made a slicing motion at his neck.

She said nothing, refusing to cower to his gaze. He finally turned back to face the door but she knew better than to try anything just yet. His eyes may have not been on her, but his ears certainly still were.

Just at that moment, her stomach growled. Loudly. Her ears tinged red but no one seemed to hear. If they did, they certainly didn't care.

I shouldn't have skipped breakfast…

The minutes passed by torturously. A bead of sweat trickled down her neck and her stomach knotted. Partially from hunger and partially from something else.

What's taking him so long? He better not have gotten himself hurt…or…or…

In front of her the leader rolled his shoulders, impatient. Opening his mouth, he was ready to order his men—

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Knocking came from the wide entrance doors. It was just three raps. But they were sharp. Clear. Concise.

The henchmen stared at each other, then their leader with widened eyes in panic.

Even he couldn't hide his own with his sharp inhale. Steeling himself, he gritted his teeth and silently signalled for them to surround the door.

She held her breath in anticipation. What was about to happen—

Bam!

The double doors flew open and a figure stumbled forward. The henchmen lept from their hiding positions.

Without further thought, they lunged towards their target. Clubs, wooden planks and bared fists were tools used to express their welcome.

From her position, she couldn't see the person clearly as their face was covered by a ski mask. But she could hear their muffled grunts from the violent onslaught until they finally toppled over. The leader strode closer to the unconscious man on the ground, his attention not on her anymore.

She let out a breath she wasn't aware she had been holding, slumping over in despair.

That is, until one of the henchmen leaned over the fallen person, yanking the ski mask off.

"Gotcha, ya bloody wank— huh?"

"Hey! That's Jack!" Another henchman piped up. Murmurs of confusion spread through the men. "Where'd the bloke go?"

No sooner had the question been voiced did she see another figure fly through the air from the doors. She didn't know how else to describe it as a tall, dark blur whizzed past the corner of her peripheral vision. A wheezing sound escaped the man standing closest to the entrance before he fell over.

Chaos broke out. Shouts escaped the men as they figured they had been deceived. They focused their target on the stranger, who had used their distraction to his advantage, raining blows left and right.

There's my distraction, she realised. Go, go, go!

Taking her chance, she raised her arms behind her as far as she could, the bound rope making it considerably challenging. She wiggled to sit up straighter, bending her elbows. In one motion she pushed her body forward as leverage while her arms straightened back, her trapped wrists pushing out against the duct tape.

She repeated the motion numerous times. With each jerk of her body, the wooden chair wobbled in warning of tipping over. Finally the tape had stretched enough to where she could slip one wrist out. Unfortunately, there was no time to rip it off the other.

Panting, she glanced upwards to see half of the henchmen attempting to circle the newcomer. The other half had joined their fellow fallen comrade. The leader didn't even seem to notice her as his back was to her, shouting out orders frantically.

Wiggling her arm forward, her hand reached into the waistband of her pencil skirt. Her mouth curled into a grim smile when her fingers curled around cold metal.

In a flash, her hand withdrew the object and her arm pushed against the rope, moving back to its original position.

Prying the blade out using her thumb and forefinger, her other hand felt around the rope. Gripping it, she began to saw at it.

Faster…faster! Why is this taking forever?

She turned her head around to see that she had nearly cut through the rope. Her trembling fingers latched onto it even tighter when she saw that only three henchmen were remaining.

Suddenly, the leader turned around and began to head towards her with narrowed eyes.

Instinctively, she knew to drop her hands, maintaining a poker face as he approached.

Please don't let him find out. She internally pleaded.

He didn't seem to notice her progressing escape from her bonds. However, any short sense of relief she might have felt immediately dissipated when he stepped in front of her her, pulling out something shiny.

Also metallic and deadly.

The last henchman was knocked to the ground when the stranger looked up and focused on them both.

"I was hoping it wouldn't have to come to this." The barrel of the gun pressed into her temple as the leader turned to face the man. "I have your girlie. Unless you want her pretty little brain splattered all over the ground, you'll do as I say."

The man said nothing, his glance flickering to her.

Surreptitiously, she winked.

Trust me.

He looked back at the leader and gave a curt nod.

The leader grinned back in turn, licking his lips. "I knew you would see sense. Now, my client says he owes you money. But I think it would be a pleasant surprise if you forgot about it. In fact, to apologise for all the trouble you've caused, you decided to give him and me a small gift."

The man's eyes narrowed ever so imperceptibly.

The leader continued. "Hand over your wallet."

Silence. She could feel the temperature in the room drop.

"I won't ask nicely again." The barrel of the gun dug into her skin. "Your wallet."

Silence. Then…

Slowly— oh so slowly, the man reached into the pocket of his trousers and withdrew a flat, brown object.

"Throw it over here." The leader pointed with his free hand a few meters in front of him. "You stay right where you are."

The man complied. Edging away from her cautiously, the leader switched targets, pointing the pistol at the man. His eyes never left his as he bent down to retrieve the wallet.

Seeing it as her chance, her hand stealthily reached up and cut away the last remaining fibres of rope off her body. She slipped off her heels and soundlessly rose from the chair, silently stalking towards him.

The leader peered into the wallet. "Hey, there's no money here!"

"It's a decoy." She chirped, directly behind him.

He whirled around, gun at the ready, only to be met with a sudden kick to the wrist, knocking it out of his hand.

She found she had underestimated his speed, however. In the next second, something powerful swung and struck her cheek. His fist. She reeled back from the impact, losing balance and crashing headfirst into the floor.

Reflexively, her body tucked and rolled away before she could be on the receiving end for more hits. Hits that never came.

Before she could look, she heard a loud thud, followed by a grunt. The sound of someone colliding into the ground.

Her head whipped towards the action, seeing the leader now entangled in a scuffle with the man. The leader seemed to be on the losing end as he was now bracing himself from a barrage of hits.

She noticed that the gun was merely inches away from them. Unfortunately, the leader seemed to realise this at the same time she did.

No sooner had his hand scrabbled to reach for the firearm that it quickly retreated back to shield his face.

She pushed herself to her feet. Glancing around, she saw the small wooden chair close by and decided to grab it as a weapon.

She looked back just in time to see that the leader was retaliating after landing a sharp punch to the man's abdomen, allowing an opening.

Her heart hammered as she sensed what would happen next. Her feet began to run, dragging the chair behind her as the leader shoved the man off of him and rolled away towards the gun.

Blood rushed in her ears and time came to a slow. Her hands automatically lifted the chair into the air as she sprinted. The leader's hand lunged for the weapon, grabbing it. Her fingers let go of the chair at the same time his fingers curled around the handle, ready to—

Wham!

The wooden chair smashed into him at full force. It broke from the impact as it collided at multiple areas. One of the chair's legs slammed into his head and he slumped, unconscious. His index finger slacked its hold from the pistol's trigger.

The only sound in the warehouse was the heavy breathing from the two conscious people. For a long moment, neither dared to speak. They stared at the entire scene, then at each other.

Finally…

"Good morning, Mr Ambrose."

He blinked. "It is currently afternoon, Miss Linton."

"Oh, is it?" She glanced upward at the gloomy sky reflected in the high windows, then shrugged. "Technicalities."

She ripped off the broken duct tape dangling from her wrist and stretched, rubbing the stiffness out of her shoulders. She looked up at her boss and smiled. It quickly turned into a grimace however, as her cheek stung. She winced.

He was in front of her within a flash. She hardly had any time to blink as his fingers grasped her chin, gently tilting her face up towards his. He brushed away the hair covering her cheek.

"That will bruise." He remarked, appraising the damage on her face from the earlier blow. "I didn't realise you were hit that hard."

"Well, he did hit me twice." She frowned.

"Twice?" His voice dropped to a dangerously low octave. She gulped.

"I was being extra mouthy earlier," she admitted.

"Miss Linton," His voice was laced with frost. "Do have more concern for your safety. Now I have to take…additional measures to ensure it."

"I'm not a small girl," she protested adamantly. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"I'm sure you are." His gaze focused downwards as he grabbed her hand.

"Hey! What—"

"Quiet."

Turning over her hand, he pressed the tips of his index and middle finger to her wrist. Realising he was checking her pulse, she steadied her breathing. In through the nose and out through the mouth.

He let go of her wrist after several seconds and held a finger in front of her face. It moved side to side multiple times and her eyes automatically followed the motion, darting left and right. Then up and down next.

Afterwards, his hands reached up and wove into her hair, long fingers massaging along her scalp.

"They didn't hit me anywhere else, you know." She said after a few seconds. "There aren't any injuries on my head."

"I'll confirm that for myself. Someone has to take your health seriously since you won't."

She was about to protest when she saw the look in his eyes. Grabbing her shoulders, he pulled her to him. Whatever thought she had was wiped blank as she was clutched in a tight grip.

"What were you thinking, Miss Linton?" His cool breath brushed along the shell of her ear. "Trying to take on a thug like that when he had a gun? You could have gotten killed!"

Her arms wound around his torso. She lifted her head, her chin propped against his chest as she met his blazing gaze. "Yes, but so could have you. You took on all those men on your own!"

His sea-coloured eyes bored into hers, the force behind them taking her breath away. "You expect me to stand idle when I receive a picture of you, unconscious and tied up, from your cell phone?"

"No, but I didn't expect you to come alone."

"The message said to. There was no way I would risk your life otherwise."

Silence. She rested her cheek against the warm comfort of his body. She didn't want to move. She felt safe in his arms. No, more than that. She felt comfortable.

"I didn't know you could fight like that."

"Likewise for you."

"The gym was offering free self-defence classes last summer." She mumbled against his wrinkled dress shirt. "I couldn't pass on the offer."

"Adequate reasoning."

"He mentioned a client." Her chin jerked towards the unconscious figure on the ground. "Was it that aggressive guy from the takeover deal last week?"

"Yes." His voice snapped like a whip. Harsh and stinging. "This will be sorted out. To resort to kidnapping my secretary for blackmail, you can rest assured, Miss Linton, that he will be taken care of accordingly."

A shiver ran down her spine but she said nothing.

He pulled away and she felt cold suddenly, the lack of his warmth apparent.

"Here." He held out something to her.

"Huh?" She glanced down and saw the sleek item in his palm. "Where did you find this?"

"One of the men had it."

"Oh." She took her cell phone gingerly. "Thanks, I guess."

"You're welcome." He turned for the exit. "Let's go, Miss Linton. Back to work. There's no time to waste."

"Ah yes." She walked over to her shoes and slipped her feet into them. "But there's still one thing."

He stopped, mid-stride. He slowly turned to face her.

"Yes?"

"Can we get something to eat first?"

I hope this prompt was more…unique and interesting to read for a modern day prompt. Probably not the first thing that pops into one's mind when they think of a modern-day version of SnS. Well, I suppose my mind is an exception to that. Also, my apologies for the delay in updates. Honestly speaking, I have no idea when the next update will be.

Regarding the new thing I'm doing with the prompts that I mentioned at the beginning of the chapter, I was taking prompt requests from my Tumblr— which by the way is closed now, I'm not taking any more requests now that I've hit a total of 20 requests. Anyway, I was answering prompts in the order that people sent them to me but since some people's prompts are longer/take place in different time periods, they will take me longer to write. I didn't want to leave people hanging so in the meanwhile, I thought I can complete the ones that are easier for me to write. Otherwise, I would have probably given up on updating this book altogether, to be honest. No worries though, I do plan to go back and complete the prompts I've skipped...eventually.