Four days ago, before the shadowy SUV swallowed Eliana Bennett into the night, Jason Asher's penthouse was still buzzing from the fallout of his brutal rejection of Sarai's pregnancy. Sarai Monroe had stormed away, fury and heartbreak dripping from every step, and vanished into the sanctuary of her private hostel—the same place she'd once made sure Eliana was kicked out of.
The drive back to her hostel was a blur of cars and angry horns. Her grip on the steering wheel was painfully tight, her vision hazy with tears that refused to stop. Every red light felt like a trap, every passing car another reminder of how fast her world was spinning out of control. She pressed harder on the gas than she should have, as if speed could outrun the words Jason had hurled at her. Sadness sat heavy in her chest, but rage burned just beneath it—rage at him, at Eliana, at herself for letting her guard down.
