ADRIAN'S POV
I couldn't explain what happened to me whenever she was near.
Her scent lingered long after she was gone. So did the memory of her in my arms, the warmth of her against me, and the way she looked at me with a trust she didn't even realize she was giving.
It was infuriating.
I didn't trust easily. I didn't grow attached. And I certainly didn't allow anyone to occupy my thoughts with such relentless persistence.
Yet somehow, she had managed all three without even trying.
What the hell was happening to me?
I slammed the file shut.
Enough.
I had more pressing matters to deal with than a girl who had somehow found her way beneath my skin.
Andy was missing.
And until I found her, nothing else mattered.
I dragged my attention back to the papers scattered across the desk. Maps. Surveillance reports. Photographs. Every lead we'd pursued had ended in another dead end.
Not a single piece of evidence told me where she was.
Frustration coiled beneath my skin, cold and suffocating.
Then came a sharp knock.
Before I could respond, the door creaked open, and Mike stepped inside. His gaze swept over the disordered desk before settling on me.
"Where were you?"
"Nowhere." I turned another page. "The forest."
His eyes narrowed.
"You were barely paying attention during the meeting, either."
"Did you find anything about Andy?" I cut in.
I had no intention of entertaining his questions.
Mike studied me for a moment, clearly unconvinced, but before he could press further, the door flew open.
Drek strode inside, his breathing uneven and his expression unusually strained.
"They found out who took her." He paused, his gaze meeting mine. "But, Adrian... you need to see this yourself."
Everything inside me went unnervingly still.
Finally.
A lead.
A name.
Someone to make pay.
Whoever had dared to take Andy had made the last mistake of their miserable existence.
I was already on my feet.
Mike and Drek followed as I strode down the corridor, my steps hard against the marble floor. Neither attempted to speak. They knew better than to interrupt me when something had finally given me a direction for my rage.
The doors to the meeting hall swung open.
Conversations died instantly.
Around the enormous table stood the clan's highest-ranking members, their faces grim, their attention fixed on the entrance.
Waiting.
Watching.
Then Elisa hurried toward me.
She was pale, her usual composure fractured by something I rarely saw in her eyes.
Fear.
"He found her, Adrian."
Her voice faltered. She swallowed hard before forcing herself to continue.
"It's him."
The room seemed to contract around me.
My jaw tightened.
"Dawson."
His name left my mouth like a verdict.
Dawson.
Of all the people who could have found her, it had to be him.
For a moment, I simply stood there, absorbing the revelation. Then a slow smile curved across my lips.
It held no amusement.
No warmth.
Only the promise of violence.
"Don't worry," I said, my voice dangerously quiet. "I'll bring her back. Nothing will happen to her."
The words were a promise, not a prediction.
My hands curled into fists, my nails biting into my palms.
Dawson.
Enjoy whatever time you have left.
I turned to Drek.
"Find him."
He straightened.
"Now."
The single word cracked through the chamber.
No one questioned me. No one dared suggest caution or ask what I intended to do once Dawson was found.
They knew me well enough to understand that some lines were never meant to be crossed.
And Dawson had crossed every last one.
I wasn't interested in explanations. I didn't want negotiations, excuses, or apologies.
I wanted Andy back.
And when I found him, he would learn exactly what it meant to take something from me.
I would tear through every hiding place, dismantle every alliance, and reduce every obstacle between us to ash.
Dawson had made one fatal miscalculation.
He had mistaken distance for safety.
I was coming for him.
And there would be nowhere left for him to hide.
ANDY'S POV
Oh, God...
Where am I?
Pain pulsed through my skull, each beat sharper than the last. I struggled to open my eyes, my lashes heavy, my thoughts tangled in a haze of confusion.
Darkness greeted me.
A solitary bulb dangled from the ceiling, casting a sickly yellow glow over the unfamiliar room. It swayed faintly, making the shadows crawl across the walls.
The air was cold.
Stale.
Oppressive.
For several disorienting seconds, I couldn't remember how I'd gotten there.
Then the memories came rushing back.
My breath caught in my throat.
I tried to sit up, but weakness dragged at my limbs. Every movement sent pain shooting through my body, and panic tightened around my chest as I struggled to make sense of my surroundings.
Then I saw him.
A man sat in a chair across the room, perfectly still, his face concealed by the shadows.
Waiting.
My stomach twisted.
The chair scraped against the floor.
He stood.
One measured step.
Then another.
The sound of his footsteps echoed through the room, unhurried and deliberate, as though he had all the time in the world.
As though he knew I had nowhere to go.
"Oh, cupcake..."
His voice drifted through the darkness, smooth and familiar.
"I missed you."
The blood drained from my face.
No.
No, please.
Not him.
My heart hammered against my ribs as the terrible truth settled over me. I had spent so long trying to escape him, convincing myself that distance might finally be enough.
But he had found me.
Again.
Tears blurred my vision before I could stop them. My hands began to shake, and I instinctively tried to retreat, only to discover how little strength I had left.
What was he going to do to me?
Please, God.
Let this be a nightmare.
Let me wake up.
"Baby."
He sounded almost tender.
Somehow, that frightened me more than anger ever could.
"This isn't a dream."
He moved closer, his shadow stretching across the floor until it swallowed the space between us.
"Your lover is here."
Something inside me crumpled.
There was no escape from this. No waking up. No merciful return to the life I'd known before he found me.
He was real.
And I was alone with him.
His face emerged from the gloom as he crouched in front of me. Before I could turn away, his fingers clamped around my chin and forced my face toward his.
The grip was brutal, his touch entirely devoid of tenderness.
"Baby..." His mouth curved into a chilling smile. "Open your eyes."
I hadn't even realized I'd squeezed them shut.
"Or I'll snap that pretty little neck."
A strangled sob escaped me.
I forced my eyes open.
The moment our gazes met, whatever courage I had left deserted me.
His eyes were merciless, gleaming with a cruel amusement that made my skin crawl. He looked at me as though my terror were a private joke, as though every tremor and every tear merely confirmed his power over me.
"I told you I'd come for you," he murmured. "Why did you run away?"
"Please..."
My voice was barely audible.
"Please, let me go."
I hated the desperation in those words. Hated the way my voice shook, how helpless I sounded beneath his gaze.
But pride was a luxury I could no longer afford.
If begging kept me alive, I would beg.
For one fleeting moment, his expression darkened.
Then his fingers tightened.
"Let you go?"
The quiet question was more frightening than a shout.
Before I could answer, his face twisted with rage.
He seized me and hurled me against the wall.
A cry tore from my throat as pain exploded through my back and shoulders. My head struck hard enough to send the room spinning, and I crumpled to the floor, struggling to draw breath.
I barely had time to recover before he loomed over me.
"I TOLD YOU YOUR LIFE BELONGS TO ME!"
His roar reverberated through the room.
I flinched violently.
"NEVER RUN FROM ME AGAIN!"
Each word crashed down like a blow, leaving me trembling beneath the force of his fury.
Then, as abruptly as his temper had erupted, his voice lowered.
"You know how much I love you."
Love.
The word lodged in my chest like a splinter.
I stared at him through my tears, unable to reconcile the word with the man standing over me.
There was no love in the way he hurt me.
No love in the threats, the fear, or the merciless grip with which he held me captive.
He called it love because he wanted to own me.
Because he believed that wanting me gave him the right to destroy me.
But whatever he felt, whatever twisted conviction allowed him to justify his cruelty, it wasn't love.
It was possession disguised as devotion.
And I was the one paying for it.
My entire body trembled as I struggled to remain conscious. The light above me fractured into a hazy blur, and the room began to tilt at impossible angles.
I tried to push myself upright.
My arms gave way.
No.
Not now.
I couldn't let myself lose consciousness with him standing over me. I couldn't surrender the last fragile thread of control I had left.
But my body refused to listen.
The darkness crept inward, swallowing the edges of my vision.
And as the room dissolved around me, one thought pierced through the haze.
One name.
One desperate hope I couldn't bear to lose.
Adrian.
I didn't know where he was.
I didn't know if he knew what had happened to me.
But somewhere beneath the terror, beneath the pain, I held on to the belief that he would come.
That he would find me.
That I wouldn't have to face this alone forever.
Please, Adrian.
Come soon.
Please... find me.
You're my only hope.