Tristan’s POV
I walk out the door slowly with Arianna in my arms, holding her carefully like a piece of delicate art with her head resting against my shoulder. Yes, she's still breathing and she isn’t harmed but looking at her, she's looks so frail, so pale, like the life has been drained out of her instead of blood. It must be the shock and the terror.
The enforcement officers move around us, loading the masked men into vehicles, asking me questions I barely register. My entire focus is on the woman in my arms.
I realize something that being unharmed is not what will matter to Arianna but catching and hurting whoever did this to her… that is what will matter.
I know Arianna, she masks her weakness for strength, so that she will never be seen as weak and she would want justice. I rem
