The transition from the freezing server room to the master suite was a blur. I could not face two of the most dangerous, calculating men in the Thorne Syndicate looking like a shattered, bleeding victim. I stepped into Valerius's massive, dark-tiled bathroom. I didn't have time for a shower, nor could I risk getting my bandages wet. I carefully stripped off the blood-soaked t-shirt, ignoring the violent throb of my fractured ribs, and washed the dried crimson from my trembling hands and face. I walked into his expansive walk-in closet, completely bypassing the few women's garments he had purchased for me. I needed armor. I selected a crisp, tailored black button-down shirt that belonged to him. It swallowed my small frame, but rolling the sleeves up to my elbows and buttoning it entirely t
