"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Lucia Bentley’s voice sliced through the air like a whip, her back pressed against the wall as Freya’s fingers tightened around her throat. The crowd around them froze, murmurs dissolving into stunned silence. Even the usual hum of the office seemed to hold its breath.
Freya’s grip was iron, her voice a lethal whisper. "Next time you send someone after me, make sure they’re capable. Otherwise, I’ll return the favor personally—with a bullet between your eyes."
Lucia’s face flushed crimson, her manicured nails clawing at Freya’s wrist. "Are you insane?! Let go of me!" But Freya didn’t budge. The memory of last night—the ambush, Duncan Black’s cold scrutiny—burned in her mind like a brand. Because of Lucia, she’d already made an enemy of Orion’s broth
