Page 56 of Protected By the Elf Prince

Landon

Pain woke me first, but it wasn’t sharp or overwhelming. Just a dull, throbbing ache sitting behind my eyes that made me groan. I tried to lift a hand to rub my face, but nothing happened.

I tugged again, but I couldn’t lift my arms.

Confusion immediately cut through the fog, and I snapped my eyes open.

Steel and concrete greeted me. Then I noticed the industrial lights hanging from the ceiling overhead, casting harsh yellow pools.

I was in a warehouse.

But where?

How’d I get here?

My stomach dropped as I glanced down at myself and then around me. I was tied to a goddamn chair. I tried moving again, but the rope bit into my wrists.

Memory slammed back into place.

Shit.

I’d been in Martin’s office.

The cloth.

The chemical smell.

A man grabbing me.

My pulse kicked up hard.

“He’s awake.” The voice drew my attention forward, and I saw Martin standing several feet away.

My boss. The man who’d hired me and smiled while someone kidnapped me.

Anger surged through me. “What the hell is this?” I demanded.

Martin sighed heavily, as if I was inconveniencing him. “You saw the files.”

I stared at him. This was about the financial reports, the discrepancies, and the fake transfers.

“You kidnapped me over accounting records?”

Martin rubbed a hand over his face. “You weren’t supposed to see them.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have committed fraud.”

His expression hardened. “Did you save any additional copies?”

I frowned. “What?”

“The files.” His voice sharpened. “Did you save copies anywhere else?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Did you share them with anyone?”

“No.” The answer came immediately because I hadn’t. The reports were still sitting on a USB in my bag at work. I swallowed against the dryness in my throat. “What’s this about, Martin?”