Hope for salvation

Night had blanketed the deserted road with a thick blanket of darkness—no headlights from oncoming cars, no lights in the distance. I, the niece of John Harris, a notorious mafioso, gripped the steering wheel, trying to stop the trembling: the city was behind us, and the silence was pressing on my temples. Suddenly, the wheels began to skid, the car lurched to the side, and with a dull thud, I crashed into an old tree.
As soon as I got out of the car, I immediately realized the accident was no accident. Scattered nails glinted on the pavement. A few steps away, the dark silhouette of an abandoned hotel loomed, gloomy, as if frozen in time. With trembling fingers, I dialed my uncle's number.
"I've been in an accident, " I whispered into the phone. "My car broke down, I'm at an old hotel... Something's wrong here." John curtly told me to wait—he was on his way. I nodded, as if he could see me, and, glancing at the dark hotel windows, stepped inside.
The place smelled of dust and something musty, and the silence was ominous. I hadn't taken more than a few steps when a shadow darted out of the darkness—and the world went dark. I woke up tied up in a dimly lit room, hearing only distant voices. Meanwhile, John was pulling up to the side of the road. He braked sharply, jumped out of the car, and in two steps was at the mangled vehicle. He looked around, shouted my name into the void, but the only answer was an echo bouncing off the walls of the abandoned building. "Where are you?! " he growled, clenching his fists, and rushed toward the hotel entrance, drawing his gun as he went. "Who took her?! Answer me! "Silence answered him, and in that silence, John felt everything inside him freeze with rage and fear. He knew that if someone dared to touch his niece, no one would leave here alive.