The wind howled around Rosalind as the helicopter soared over the dark waves, the ship growing smaller beneath her. Her heart pounded—not from fear, but from the unknown.
Dante Salvatori never did anything without a reason.
She gripped the ladder tightly, the metal rungs biting into her palms. As she climbed into the aircraft, two men in black suits immediately grabbed her arms, shoving her into a leather seat. The interior was sleek, luxurious—like everything Dante touched.
He sat across from her, legs crossed, adjusting the cuff of his tailored jacket as if this was just another business meeting.
"Comfortable?" he asked smoothly, watching her with the patience of a predator.
Rosalind forced a smirk. "Oh, thrilled. Kidnapping always makes my night."
Dante chuckled, pouring himself a
