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He comes to a stop in front of the open doorway, the light from whatever is outside this room pouring in behind him as he shakes his head, lifting his hand and rubbing at the back of his neck. The move causes his shirt to lift, and I get a very quick glance at the inked patch of skin it reveals.

“I’m scared of no one, Princess.”

“Right. Of course not,” I mutter. “That’s why you feel the need to abduct me and hide me here.”

He drops down on his haunches in front of me and reaches out, taking a handful of my hair before I get the chance to move. Ripping my head back and sending a shooting pain down my already sore neck, he stares right into my eyes.

“Watch your mouth, brat. It’s going to get you in even more trouble than you’re already in.”

“Nothing new there,” I quip before wincing when his grip on me tightens. I can only see his eyes and lips, but both of them are hard, his anger radiating from him. “What did I ever do to you?” I ask, forcing some lightness into my tone.

“Nothing personal, Princess.”

“As I thought. You’re just following orders, huh? And what is it you’ve been told to do? Come in here and mess me up a bit? Scare me? Hurt me? What’s the endgame here? You going to send me back to Daddy broken and bruised to prove a point? Are you working for my grandfather? Or maybe it’s my husband and my father-in-law you want. If that’s the case, I should probably tell you that Theo’s not going to be interested in what you do to me. He hates me.”

He chuckles as if he doesn’t believe me. Whatever. This arsehole can think what he wants.

I’m still not even convinced that Theo isn’t behind all of this.

My heart aches as my stomach clenches with hunger.

I have no idea what time it is, how long I’ve been here, or when the last time I ate or even drank was.

“I need to pee,” I tell the guy.

A smirk pulls at his lips as he releases me, roughly throwing me back against the wall. My shoulder collides with the unforgiving concrete but I refuse to react, to show him in any way that he’s hurting me.

“Look around, Princess. Your castle has everything you could need. And if you’re missing anything,” he grits out, taking my chin in a punishing grip, “don’t bother calling. We won’t come.”

When he releases me this time, I fly toward the floor, only just managing to catch myself before my cheek collides with the dirty, grey concrete.

“Arsehole,” I mutter as he marches away before swinging the door closed and leaving me almost in complete darkness once more.

A little light filters in through the cracks in the door, and after a few minutes my eyes adjust enough to be able to make out a toilet in the corner—and more importantly, a tray beside the door. I can’t see what’s on the plate—it looks like a pile of mush—but there’s a glass of water and I swallow, my raw throat desperate for it.

Ignoring my need to pee, I crawl over to the glass and down the lukewarm water in record time before staring down at the glass, wishing there was more.

My eyes flick to the plate which I now know holds dry, probably old bread, and my stomach clenches once more.

I fucking knew it was too good to be true when Dad said everything was going to be okay.

I knew things wouldn’t just settle down and allow me to go back to a normal life. I’m amazed he believed it as well.

Or maybe he didn’t and he knew this was going to happen.

Maybe he’s right outside this building, waiting to storm in to get me back.

Maybe he and Cruz planned this. Theo too.

Falling back against the wall, I slam those thoughts down. There’s no point trying to come up with some stupid idea that they’re right around the corner and planning my elaborate escape.

My life might feel like a fucking movie at times. It would be easy to get swept away with the excitement of it all. But the reality is that Theo could be dead at his steering wheel and no one else knows that anything is even adrift. That I’ve been taken.

Images of how Theo looked the last time I saw him flicker through my mind, and a lump of emotion claws its way up my throat. He was slumped over the steering wheel, blood trickling down the side of his face, his arms hanging limply at his sides.

A sob erupts as I think about the possibility of him still being behind the wheel of his broken and battered baby, nose-down in a ditch.

Archer and Dax certainly won’t be looking for me after what happened in the den. Although they might happily put a hit out on Theo after he shot Dax.

No one, not even a Cirillo, puts a bullet through a Wolf and gets away with it.

Another pained sob rips from my throat and my eyes close as exhaustion washes through me.

I knew that fucking smiley was a bad idea.

I just never could have imagined that I’d end up here.

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