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Emilia’s POV
The world around me felt like it had dissolved into static. My body moved because Alonso’s men pulled me forward, their grips firm but not cruel. I stumbled over my own feet, too stunned to resist, too dazed to speak.
The blood-streaked room was now behind us, but its horrors stayed lodged in my mind: the gunshots, the bodies, Alonso’s fury. And then there was the name. Alessandra. My name. According to him.
“This way,” one of the men grunted, guiding me toward a sleek black SUV parked just outside the warehouse.
I yanked my arm out of his grasp, finding a shred of my voice through the haze of confusion and fear. “Don’t touch me!”
He raised his hands in surrender, glancing at Alonso, who stood a few feet away, watching me. “It’s for your safety,” the man muttered, st
