Emma
The room where Robert's men had brought me was elegant in that distinctly masculine way—leather furniture, dark wood paneling, and hunting trophies that seemed to watch me with glass eyes. A pretentious space designed to intimidate. I sat in a leather chair, my wrists bound but not uncomfortably so. They wanted me compliant, not injured.
Through the large windows, I could see forest stretching in every direction. The isolation was deliberate—no neighbors to hear, no passersby to witness. The perfect place to hold someone against their will.
"Water?" Robert Sterling asked, offering a crystal glass with exaggerated politeness.
I didn't respond, studying him instead. The family resemblance to Dominic was there, but distorted—like looking at a familiar painting through warped glass. S
