Lila saw it in the rearview mirror. That smile. It wasn’t warm. It wasn’t kind.
It was the smile of a man who had just been handed a new weapon.
Her stomach twisted. She pressed herself deeper into the seat, the blanket still wrapped around her naked body, her injured wrist throbbing against her chest.
“Damien…” she whispered, voice cracking. “Please. He’s my brother. He’s just trying to save me. Don’t… don’t do whatever you’re thinking.”
Damien didn’t answer. He kept driving, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the gun in his lap. The smile stayed on his lips, small and sharp, like he was tasting victory already.
The city lights flashed across his face as they sped through the streets. Lila could see the blood on his shirt from earlier. She could see the way his knuckles we
