Alina’s head throbbed, a dull ache pulsing against her temples as she forced her eyes open. Darkness surrounded her. The air was thick with the scent of damp wood and something metallic—blood. Her wrists burned from the rough rope binding them together, and her mouth was dry, her throat raw from screaming.
Panic surged through her veins as memories came rushing back. The black SUV. The masked men. The struggle. **Adrian.**
Her breath hitched. She had been taken.
She twisted against her restraints, her heart pounding in her chest. The room she was in was small, barely lit by a flickering overhead bulb. The walls were concrete, cold and unforgiving. A basement? A warehouse? She didn’t know. But one thing was clear—**she was in Adrian Knight’s hands now.**
The sound of footsteps e
