Page 167 of Desperate Actions

And when I finally look at him, my voice is pure murder.

“To get my wife back.”

Chapter 38-Aella

The SUV jerks to a stop, the momentum throwing me forward so hard my seatbelt cuts into my collarbone. My breath hitches, heart hammering against my ribs as Andrea gasps beside me.

Something is wrong.

The silence outside is heavy. Too heavy. Like the city itself is holding its breath.

Then the doors explode open.

Shouts erupt, loud, angry, merciless.

“Get the fuck out!”

“Hands on your heads!”

“Move, NOW!”

The sharp snap of weapons being raised sends terror surging through me, but there’s no time to process it.

A hand grips my arm, yanking me so hard my shoulder wrenches painfully. My hands are still bound behind me, my balance off, the cold pavement beneath my feet slick from the week’s worth of rain.

I stumble, trying to catch myself, but another shove from behind sends me careening forward.

The factory looms ahead—rotting, abandoned, reeking of decay.

The windows are jagged, broken, gaping like empty eye sockets in the darkness. The air smells like mildew, rust, and old death.

I try to breathe through my fear, to keep my mind clear.

Sammy is coming.

He will come for me.

I just have to hold on.

My gaze snaps to Santos, but he doesn’t look at me.

He’s on the phone, his grin stretching wide, his teeth flashing like a predator catching the scent of blood.

His voice is low, lethal, dripping with the kind of pleasure that makes my stomach turn.

This isn’t about money.

This is personal.

At least, I think it is, but there’s only one way to be sure.

“Why are you doing this?” I demand, my voice shaking but strong.

The man closest to me growls.

And then his fist crashes into my face.

Pain explodes, white-hot, splitting through my skull.

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