The Vizzini family fortress was a place of shadows and secrets. It sat on the edge of a high cliff, overlooking the dark, crashing waves of the sea.
This wasn't just a house; it was a castle built for war.
Every wall was thick stone, and every window was narrow. The air inside smelled like old dust and expensive cigars.
I walked down the long, cold hallway, my boots echoing on the marble floor. For the first time, I wasn't walking as a prisoner or a surrogate. I was walking as the woman Ryker had chosen to protect. But as I looked at the paintings of the men who came before him, men with hard eyes and cruel smiles. I realized that being protected by a Vizzini was just as dangerous as being hunted by one.
I found Ryker in the library. He was standing by a window, looking out at the stor
