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Isadora awoke with a pounding headache and a sense of disorientation that left her feeling dizzy and nauseous. As she blinked against the harsh light filtering into her cell, she struggled to make sense of her surroundings.
The cold, damp walls pressed in on her from all sides, casting eerie shadows that danced across the floor. Her ankle was chained to the floor, the heavy metal links digging into her skin with every movement. She winced as she tried to shift her position, feeling the sharp sting of pain shoot up her leg.
Blood dripped from a gash on her forehead, evidence of the violence that had been inflicted upon her. She reached up to touch the wound, wincing as her fingers came away slick with blood. How had she gotten here? What had happened to her?
The memories came flooding back in a rush of confusion and fear. Vader. Nikolaí. Betrayal. She had been fooled, deceived by those she had trusted most. And now, here she was, trapped in this cold, dark cell with no hope of escape.
She screamed for help, her voice echoing loudly off the walls of her prison. But there was no one there to answer her cries, no one to offer her comfort or solace. She was alone, utterly and completely alone.
Tears welled up in Isadora's eyes as she sank to the floor, her body racked with sobs of despair and frustration. How had it come to this? How had she allowed herself to be so easily manipulated?
But as she lay there in the darkness, her heart heavy with regret and betrayal, a flicker of determination sparked within her. She would not give up without a fight. She would find a way to escape, to reclaim her freedom and seek vengeance against those who had wronged her.
With that thought burning bright in her mind, Isadora closed her eyes and prayed for strength. She may be alone now, but she refused to let them break her. She would survive this, no matter what it took.
Hours later, a harsh beam of light pierced through the darkness of Isadora's cell, blinding her momentarily as she shielded her eyes against the glare. As her vision adjusted, she saw Nikolaí standing before her, a grim expression on his face as he held out a tray of food.
Isadora's blood boiled with rage at the sight of him. He had been the one to betray her, the one to deliver her into the hands of her enemies. And now here he was, offering her food as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't been the one to betray her trust.
She pushed the tray away with a violent shove, the clatter of metal against metal echoing through the silence of the cell. "I don't want your food," she spat, her voice dripping with venom. "I don't want anything from you."
Nikolaí's expression remained impassive, but Isadora could see the flicker of guilt in his eyes. "Isadora, please," he said, his voice tinged with desperation. "I had no choice. Vader... he promised me power, wealth. I couldn't refuse."
