The house felt more like a safe house than a home, the tall rock walls stood all around the compound, and with sharp wires on top that gleamed brightly in the evening light. Men with guns walked around the compound in groups of two, with their shoes gritting against the stones, moving in an organized, trained way. Cameras were placed on the corner of each building, surveying quietly, with their black lenses watching everything at every time.
Isla took note of all of it.
Dante brought her to this fancy prison some days before, and even though he hadn't hurt her, his control over her and the place felt heavy, it was like a metal band wrapped around her chest. Every door was locked, and every hallway was watched. She had no freedom, she only had the appearance of safety, it was like a cage that was covered in nice floors and lights.
