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Chapter 1

Evelyn

The thick cloth gag between my teeth traps my tongue, smothering my pleas for mercy. I jerk against the restraints that bind my wrists and ankles. Zip ties dig into my flesh, the unyielding bonds tearing my skin as I struggle for freedom.

I have no idea how much time has passed since I was taken.

All I remember are the strong arms that grabbed me from behind and the acrid smell of the cloth that was shoved over my nose and mouth. Then everything dissolved into darkness.

It’s still dark; no light slips through the blindfold that’s knotted tightly enough to make my head ache. The damp concrete floor is cool beneath my cheek, but the chilly sensation does nothing to soothe the pounding in my brain.

I can’t see, can’t move, can’t speak. The sense of complete helplessness crushes my chest like a lead weight, preventing my lungs from fully expanding. My throat is raw from screaming, and all I can manage is a ragged shout.

“Shut up!” The man’s frustrated bark hits me at the same time his boot slams into my stomach.

My insides writhe in agony, and I choke for air.

“Don’t kill her,” another man warns. “We need her as a hostage.”

The first man had yelled at me in English, but the second man speaks in Spanish. They have to be aware I’m American, even though I’ve done my best to acclimate to life in Mexico City and am fluent in Spanish.

The prospect that they know I’m an expat chills my blood. And they’d mentioned keeping me as a hostage. How much do these men know about me?

I fear I already know why they abducted me, but my brain refuses to fully acknowledge the horror of my situation; I’m too absorbed in processing the pain of the brutal kick to the gut.

They continue to discuss me in their native language. “Crawford will come for her. Then we can kill them both.”

A strangled sound catches in my throat. I’m incapable of begging for George’s life.

Crawford.They’re talking about my fiancé. George is a DEA agent. We moved to Mexico City for his job. If these men want to get to him, then they must be affiliated with one of the cartels he fights against on a daily basis.

“No reason I can’t have a little fun before he gets here.” Rough hands grab me, groping at my chest.

Horror twists my stomach. I try to shriek, but all that escapes me is a pained wheeze. My insides are still on fire, and my diaphragm won’t expand to draw in a full breath.

I thrash, the cable ties ripping at the skin around my wrists and ankles.

The man’s breath is hot and putrid on my cheek. Acting on instinct, I slam my head in his direction. Pain lances my skull at the impact, and a flash of bright light flickers over my dark world as my head spins.

The man’s sickening heat recedes, and his string of curses booms through the cramped space where they’re holding me captive.

“What the fuck are you doing?” A new, deep voice cracks across my flickering consciousness. “Who is she?”

There’s something odd about his accented Spanish, but my mind is spinning too fast to contemplate it.

“She’s George Crawford’s fiancée.” Someone spits on the concrete. “He’ll come for her, and we’ll kill that motherfucker.”

Cold flashes over me at the threat to George’s life, and my struggles become more frantic. I don’t notice the blood that wells around my restraints, coating my palms in warmth. I try to rail at these monsters that I won’t let them use me against my fiancé.

“She broke my fucking nose.” I recognize the voice of the man who groped me, but it’s slightly more nasal now. “She’ll pay for that.”

Pain explodes through my head, and a wave of nausea crashes over me. A furious roar resounds through the cramped space, the primal sound all that tethers me to reality as my consciousness wavers.

Chapter 2

Massimo

Igrab the motherfucker who just kicked a defenseless woman and slam him against the wall. His head makes a satisfyingcrackagainst the concrete blocks, and his dark eyes slide out of focus. My knife is at his throat in a heartbeat, drawn from the sheath at my side in one lighting fast, practiced sweep.