A wave of dizziness rolled over her.
She leaned her head against the wall, her eyes shut tight, trying not to throw up. Slowly, fragments of memory began to surface.
The phone call with her grandfather.
Her laughter. Her smile. Telling her grandfather about Alexandros.
That warm, floating feeling in her chest as she walked back to the trawler…
Her pulse sped as she remembered. Her heart beat so fast she was afraid she would pass out again.
The shadow.
The voice.
Her eyes flew open, and her body went rigid.
No. No, it can’t be.
But it was.
Zayan.
Her breath caught in her throat. She began to tremble uncontrollably.
After all these years… Why?
Her body tensed as her senses, heightened by her fear, picked up the sound of footsteps.
Light. Unhurried. Approaching.
She recoiled as far as she could into the corner, pulling her knees to her chest, trying to make herself small, invisible, anything.
The door creaked open.
Her heart pounded like a war drum.
A man stepped inside. Masked. Tall. His skin was a deep bronze, sun-darkened, but his build—lean, hard—was unmistakable. Scars marked the backs of his hands, jagged white reminders of cruelty lived and dealt.
He carried a stained paper plate with a sandwich and a lukewarm bottle of water. As if that could pass for kindness.
Dani’s throat moved in a dry swallow. The ache of thirst burned her. But her fear outweighed everything else.
He crouched, placing the food beside her.
He reached out a dirty hand.
She flinched violently, turning her face away, her heart in her throat.
A low chuckle escaped him—amused, unhurried. Cold.
He grabbed her hair, yanking her head forward with a painful jerk. Her scalp burned as she fought not to cry out.
Then came the searing sting as he ripped the tape from her mouth.
Dani gasped, dragging air into her lungs, her skin raw where the adhesive had torn it. She glared up at him, fury battling terror.
Zayan made a soft tsk, dragging the pad of his rough thumb across her lips with grotesque familiarity. Her stomach lurched with revulsion.
