The SUV screeched to a halt outside the estate.
Isla Calloway didn’t wait for the doors to open.
She shoved them aside, her heart hammering as she and Marcus pulled Lucas out of the vehicle.
Blood soaked his shirt, dark and spreading.
His breathing was shallow. Too shallow.
"Get him inside," Isla ordered, her voice sharper than steel.
Marcus didn’t argue.
Two of Isla’s men rushed forward, grabbing Lucas under the arms and hauling him inside.
He grunted, but his eyes flickered open, barely focused.
"Still here, Calloway," he muttered, smirking weakly.
Isla’s hands shook.
Not from fear.
Not from anger.
But from the rage simmering beneath her skin.
This wasn’t just an ambush.
This was a message.
Catherine Calloway had played her move.
And now?
Now Isla was going to burn ever
