Friday afternoon the black SUV pulled up outside her apartment building. No warning. Just a text at 3:17 p.m.: Downstairs. Now. Bring nothing.
Amelia grabbed her keys, locked the door, and went. Victor was behind the wheel, dark sunglasses hiding his eyes. Damien in the passenger seat, one arm slung over the backrest. Lucas sprawled across the middle row, smirking when she climbed in beside him.
“No phones,” Victor said as he pulled away from the curb. “Hand them over.”
She gave hers up without a word. Lucas tucked it into the glovebox with the others. The doors locked with a soft click.
The drive took two hours—city fading to suburbs, then winding mountain roads lined with pines. No one spoke much. Lucas’s hand rested high on her thigh the whole way, thumb stroking lazy circles throug
