"And you came to me because…?"
"I didn't come to you. You kidnapped me."
I allowed myself a small smile. "A fortunate coincidence, then."
We circled each other like predators, neither willing to show weakness. She was soaking wet, smaller than me by a foot, and completely in my power—yet she radiated defiance.
"I want to leave," she stated firmly.
"With information that valuable? I think not."
"The information is my insurance. My freedom."
I stepped closer, into her personal space. She didn't back away. "Your freedom is now at my discretion."
Her breathing quickened, but her gaze remained steady. "You can't keep me here."
"I can do whatever I want." I reached out, brushing a strand of wet hair from her face. Her skin was cold from the rain. "That's the difference between us, Sophie. You're playing games you don't understand."
A pulse jumped in her throat. Fear? Anger? Something else entirely? Her eyes darkened slightly.
"I understand more than you think," she whispered.
The tension between us shifted, charged with something beyond the power struggle. I stepped back, regaining control of the moment.
"You need dry clothes. Food. Rest." I moved to the sideboard again. "But first, water. You're dehydrated."
I filled a glass from the pitcher and offered it to her. She hesitated, eyes flickering between the glass and my face.
"It's just water."
She took it reluctantly. "Why would I trust anything from you?"
"Because if I wanted to harm you, I wouldn't need to be subtle about it."
Logic seemed to win over suspicion. She took a small sip, then another. I watched as she drained the glass, her throat working as she swallowed.
It took less than a minute. Her movements became sluggish, her eyes struggling to focus. Understanding dawned on her face.
"You drugged me," she breathed, swaying slightly.
I caught her as her knees buckled, one arm around her waist, the other supporting her head. "You'll thank me later."
Her body went limp against mine, surprisingly light. I lifted her easily, one arm under her knees, the other supporting her back. Her head lolled against my chest, red hair spilling over my arm.
Antonio called her difficult, but she was… something else. Something that made my control feel thinner than it should.
I carried her through the house to the east wing guest suite. The room was luxurious but secure—reinforced windows, doors that locked from the outside. I laid her carefully on the bed, taking a moment to study her face in repose. Without the mask of defiance, she looked younger, vulnerable.
My hand moved to her chest, retrieving the flash drive from its hiding place. It was warm from her body heat, small but potentially devastating. Antonio had no idea what he'd just lost—not just the information, but her. Whatever she'd discovered had turned his most prized possession against him.
I slipped the drive into my breast pocket, where it sat like a weight against my heart.
“My brother has no idea what he just lost,” I murmured, turning to leave her sleeping form behind.
CHAPTER 2
Sophie
