Sebastian Volkov's POV
I circled the SUV in two strides. Each step of my thousand-dollar boots crushed the fresh snow of the alley with a ferocity that reflected the chaos within.
I grabbed the passenger door handle and yanked it open, breaking the manual lock with a metallic crunch that I couldn't care less about.
The icy early morning air rushed into the cabin, but the real cold, the kind that chilled me to the bone, came from the way she shrank back against the seat. She was trying to disappear. Trying to become invisible.
"Get out of the car, Gianna," I ordered.
My voice wasn't a shout; it was a deep baritone, imbued with an implacable authority that brooked no argument. I wanted to sound like the unflappable CEO who ruled the markets in Manhattan, but inside, my world was crumbli
