Rio's POV
"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?" My voice echoes through the lobby, and I see Diego's face go pale as he supports a disheveled Lina against his chest.
"Rio, thank God you're here," Diego says quickly, his accent thick with urgency. "Someone drugged her at dinner tonight. I got there just in time—there were men trying to take her somewhere. She's not herself right now."
My rage deflates slightly as I take in the details I missed in my initial fury. Lina's pupils are dilated, her movements unsteady in a way that has nothing to do with alcohol. Her dress is wrinkled but intact, and Diego's hands are positioned protectively, not intimately.
"Drugged?" The word comes out like gravel.
"James Harrison. The business dinner—he put something in her wine. When I arrived, his men were dragging her to a car." Diego's jaw clenches. "I called my assistant to handle the cleanup, but she needs medical attention immediately."
