The click of the lock was a cold echo of my past. I threw myself against the door, pounding my fists until my knuckles throbbed. "Damian! Open this door! You can’t keep me here!"
But there was no answer. Only the sound of his heavy, rhythmic footsteps fading down the stairs and the distant, muffled bark of a security team mobilizing in the jungle.
I was alone. Again.
I paced the room like a caged animal. My mind was racing, looping back to that date: May 14th. It sounded so specific, so deliberate. If Julian Vane wanted to scare me, he would have mentioned a contract or a debt. But this? This felt personal. This felt like a ghost reaching out from the grave.
I looked at the black orchid on the bed. It was mocking me.
"I’m not just going to sit here," I whispered to the empty room.
If
