The safehouse was quiet again. Ashley sat on the edge of the couch, Marco's face burned into her mind every time she blinked. His smirk. His voice. His warning. No matter how slowly she tried to breathe, her chest stayed tight, like something unseen was squeezing her ribs.
She thought she'd left that life behind—the lies, the tricks, the fake affection that had kept her trapped with Marco. But he wasn't some ghost she could forget. He was real, dangerous, and tonight proved he still had his eye on her. A shiver ran through her as she remembered the way he used to look at her—not like she was wanted, but like she was owned. She hated that even now, he could still get in her head and twist her up inside.
The brothers weren't much better. Nolan was in the kitchen with the burner phone
