Why me?
I don’t have enemies. I don’t know anything worth stealing. I’m not important enough for this.
Unless—
My father.
The thought hits hard. His business. His money.
Is this about him?
But nothing about his world suggests this. He’s careful. Clean. Legitimate.
So what the hell is this?
“How long?” someone asks.
“Twenty minutes.”
“Remember—no marks.”
No marks.
The words echo in my head, sending a different kind of chill through me.
I’m not a person to them.
I’m cargo.
The van slows.
Stops.
Voices outside. A door. Movement.
My heart slams against my ribs.
This is it.
Hands grab me, hauling me upright. My legs stumble beneath me, stiff and useless as they half-carry me forward.
Gravel crunches under my feet.
Then a door opens?—
Cool air washes over me.
I’m dragged inside, across smooth flooring, and forced down into a chair. Something tight wraps around my chest and arms, pinning me in place.
Then the hood is yanked off.
Light blinds me.
I blink rapidly, vision clearing—and freeze.
This isn’t what I expected.
I’m in an office.
