THE CAPTIVE KYLIE
“As in, Kylie Vincenzo?” the man sneered, his smile as sharp as a knife.
I nodded, resisting the impulse to look away. There was no use denying who I was; they’d only use it against me. The man barked something in Russian, and the others erupted into coarse laughter, their eyes leering over me with an intensity that made my skin crawl.
“Where are the others?” His gaze slid over me with a lazy malice. “Your shadow and the children?”
It took me a second to grasp who he meant by 'shadow' - my protector, always near. I cleared my throat, keeping my voice even. “I don’t know,” I replied.
His answer was a brutal kick to Ava, who lay crumpled on the floor nearby. She screamed, the sound shredding through the thick tension. Her wide, pleading eyes met mine, silently begging
