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An older woman and man sat across from her. They both gave her nervous smiles and then lowered their eyes to their empty plates. Moving her gaze, she swallowed a gasp when she saw the man at the end of the table. She knew him! Earlier in the year, Franklin Lockhart and his family had supposedly died when their private plane crashed in the Atlantic Ocean. No bodies had been recovered, and all passengers had been assumed dead. Yet, here he was.

Lockhart was a prominent neurosurgeon who’d become a household name after he’d saved the life of the daughter of DeAnna Winston, one of the most famous actresses in Hollywood. He’d been all over the news after the successful brain surgery. Serena remembered thinking how sad it was that he’d lost his life so quickly after saving one.

But if the plane crash hadn’t really happened, where were his wife and children? Were they also here?

Working hard not to show her recognition, she moved her gaze to a middle-aged woman with a blank, emotionless expression. When her eyes met Serena’s, she seemed to stare straight through her.

She looked at the people closest to her. She didn’t recognize the older gentleman with a frozen smile on his face, but she did know the woman next to him. Sarah Templeton was a world-renowned plastic surgeon who’d reportedly committed suicide by jumping off a cliff in Maui. There had been witnesses to the event, so though her body was never recovered, no one doubted what had happened.

Her mind wanted to go through a litany of wild speculations on why the Wren Project was holding two prominent surgeons captive. She had to pull back the reins and focus. Without a doubt, she was sitting on a goldmine. What she could learn here, from these people, from this experience, was one of the greatest opportunities of her lifetime.

Her musings were interrupted when Colton Kingsley appeared at the table. “Good morning, everyone. I trust we all had a good night’s sleep?”

Thankfully, he didn’t seem to expect a reply, because he continued with, “Let me introduce you to our newest guest. Serena Donavan comes to us from Montana. She’s a brilliant computer expert with a tremendous knowledge of digging out the most obscure bit of intel and using it to…” Turning to her with a smirk, he said, “Sorry, I don’t know how to finish that sentence.”

She had no problem helping him out. “To destroy evil.”

“Ah, yes. The universal quest of all heroes—to obliterate evil. It’s good we rescued you from that useless endeavor.”

“Rescued? Is that what you call kidnapping these days?”

Never losing his smile, he shrugged. “Potato, po-tah-to.” Before she could respond, he said, “Please, let me introduce you to your fellow guests.” Starting at the end of the table, he nodded toward each person as he recited their names. “Dr. Franklin Lockhart, renowned neurosurgeon. Dr. Sarah Templeton, renowned plastic surgeon. Dr. Jenson Mosley, renowned cardiothoracic surgeon. Dr. Felix Mareno, renowned molecular biologist. And last but definitely not least, Dr. Josephine Holland, renowned geneticist.”

By the time Kingsley finished, Serena was stunned into silence. All of these people were at the top of their field of study. And Kingsley had kidnapped them, as he had her. For what reason? For what purpose did he need three surgeons and two biologists?

Apparently not expecting questions at this point, Kingsley picked up a small bell beside his plate and rang it. Seconds later, five people came into the room, each carrying trays of breakfast foods.

Kingsley gave everyone a giant smile and said, “Since we have a new guest, we’re celebrating with mimosas.”

She felt like she was in a horror movie, and at some point, a director would shout, “Cut!” and reality would return. Instead, platters of scrambled eggs, waffles, bacon, sausage, and toast were placed on the table by three silent servants, while another server settled fluted glasses in front of each plate. Another server followed behind with a large pitcher and filled each glass with the mimosa.

Once everyone had a drink in front of them, Kingsley lifted his glass and said, “A toast for our newest guest. May her stay be both enjoyable and beneficial.”

In horrifying synchronicity, everyone at the table, with the exception of Serena, lifted their glass in the air and took a sip.

She took in the dynamics as various platters were passed around, trying to see behind the facades of each person. Her gaze moved from Dr. Templeton to the man next her. Dr. Mosley was fortyish, rather tall and broad, and slightly balding. She was about to shift her eyes to the next person when she noticed he made a subtle hand movement. Not wanting to call attention to it, she moved her head but watched for the gesture again out of the corner of her eye. His movements were so slight, it took three times before she could make out what he was signaling. Her heart stopped. Jenson Mosley was using the international hand signal for help.

At least one other person at this table had not accepted his fate. The others were most likely of the same mind but had learned to hide their feelings. They were all being held hostage, and they needed her help.

Not only was she going to gather as much intel as she could to destroy Wren, she now had an additional mission. She was also going to help these people escape.

Daunting tasks, but she had no choice but to try.

Chapter Eleven

The minute she reentered her bedroom, Serena knew things were about to get harder. The wheelchair that had mysteriously disappeared during the night sat like a talisman of evil in the middle of the room, waiting to take her somewhere.

It wasn’t really a surprise. When she’d finished eating, Smith had appeared at her side to escort her back to her room. When she’d stood, Kingsley had given her his signature smile and said, “See you soon.”

Deciding to put aside that concern for the time being, Serena performed a familiar routine as if this were a normal day. She went to the bathroom, emptied her bladder, washed her hands, and brushed her teeth. She reapplied lipstick, combed her hair, and checked her makeup. Perhaps if she hadn’t known she was being watched, she might behave differently, but allowing Kingsley to see her rattled wasn’t something she wanted to show. She had some monumental tasks ahead of her and needed, above all else, to keep a cool head.

She returned to the bedroom and sat on the sofa in the corner. They would come for her soon, and she needed to think before she faced this new challenge.

First and foremost, what were the other “guests” here for? What she knew of the two she recognized wasn’t a lot. She knew they were both experts in their fields. Both were presumed dead. Was that the case with the others? The man who’d signed to her, asking for help, was in obvious distress. What was the Wren Project using him to do?

A knock sounded, and before she could call out, Smith walked into the room. “Ms. Donavan, your presence is requested in our meeting room.” He gestured toward the wheelchair. “If you’d be so kind as to step into your ride.”

Her ride? That was rich. “Couldn’t I just walk, like I did at breakfast?”