The SUV tore through the dark streets of New York, weaving through the city like a predator hunting its prey.
Inside, the tension was suffocating.
Lucas Reyes sat in the backseat, his head against the window, exhausted, broken—but alive. His wound throbbed, his body screamed in protest, but none of it mattered.
Not when Isla Calloway sat beside him, dangerously silent.
She hadn’t said a word since they left the hospital.
Her fingers curled into fists, her nails digging into her palms.
She was barely holding herself together.
Marcus, behind the wheel, finally spoke.
"We should lay low," he said. "Catherine’s got eyes everywhere. She won’t stop until she—"
"No," Isla interrupted.
Marcus frowned. "No?"
Isla finally turned, her gray eyes burning.
"We don’t hide," she said, voice sh
