“I have a grandmother,” I say desperately. “She needs me. I have a job—”
“Your grandmother is being watched. Three of my men are making sure she stays breathing.” His tone doesn’t change. Matter-of-fact. Calm. “Your job? Well, considering your boss got his throat slit this morning, I’d say you’re unemployed.”
Dave.
The memory hits me hard. His face. The fear. The way he begged—
I’m going to be sick.
I lurch forward, hand over my mouth, but nothing comes up. Just dry heaves that make my ribs ache.
He doesn’t move to comfort me. Doesn’t offer water or soothing words. Just stands there, watching me break down like it’s part of his morning routine.
“Dave set you up,” he continues when my breathing stabilizes. “Led you to that laundromat like a lamb to the slaughter. He thought if he delivered you, they’d let him live.”
“Stop.” Tears are streaming down my face now. “Please just stop.”
“They killed him anyway. That’s what happens when you trust the wrong people.”
I wrap my arms around myself, trying to hold the pieces together. “What do you want from me?”
For the first time, something shifts in his expression. Not softer. Nothing about him could ever be soft. But… focused.
“I want you to listen very carefully,” he says, moving closer until he’s standing directly in front of me. “Your life—the one where you worry about overdraft fees and bus schedules—that’s gone. Forever. The people who want you dead? They don’t give up. They don’t forget. And they sure as hell don’t forgive.”
I can barely breathe.
“But,” he continues, and his voice drops low, “I can keep you alive. I can make sure your grandmother stays safe. I can give you a chance to see tomorrow.”
“In exchange for what?”
His lips curve into something that might be a smile if it weren’t so terrifying.
“You do exactly what I tell you. When I tell you. No questions. No arguing. No trying to run back to your pretty little life.” He leans down, bringing his face level with mine. “Because that life is dead,Mary.And you can join it, or you can adapt.” He pauses. “So, what’s it going to be,printsessa?”
My head starts spinning. The room shifts out of focus, and I can’t catch my breath. This isn’t real. This can’t be real.
I look at the door—sleek, modern… escape.
No.
No, no, no, no.
I’m not staying here. I’m not accepting this. I’m not becoming some prisoner while my life burns down around me.
I bolt.
My legs are shaky, but adrenaline kicks in hard. I sprint toward the door, his oversized shirt billowing behind me like a sail.
“Mary—”
I don’t look back. My fingers find the handle, twist—
And then I’m airborne.
He catches me around the waist, one arm banding across my ribs like steel. My back slams against his chest, and God, he’s so warm. So solid. Like hitting a wall made of muscle and menace.
“Let me go!” I thrash, elbows flying, trying to break free. “I said, let me GO!”
