MARTIN WEST'S GUEST HOUSE
Elizabeth stood facing the two thugs who had brought her to this unknown location. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest. The living room they’d shoved her into smelled faintly of damp wood and old furniture, but she didn’t flinch.
“Where is your lunatic of a boss?” she snapped. “The one who thought k********g me was a good idea?”
The two men exchanged an irritated glance. One, the taller of the two, stepped forward, his jaw clenched. “Watch your mouth, lady.”
Elizabeth tilted her head, unfazed. “Or what? You’ll hit me? Go ahead. Might be the most excitement you’ve had all day.”
Her words were laced with sarcasm, but it wasn’t just courage. The alcohol still in her system from Laura's house and the gala dulled her fear, and the rage she’d been carryi
