[IRAYA]
I swallowed.
Alright. Time to assess my situation.
Kidnapping?
Obviously.
Ransom?
Possible.
Organ trafficking? God, I hoped not.
A deep voice cut through my thoughts.
"Are you Lyander's woman?"
My head snapped toward the source.
A man—tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in an expensive-looking black suit—stood at the front. Unlike the others, he wasn't wearing a mask, giving me a clear view of his dark skin, sharp jawline, and the ridiculous number of gold chains draped around his neck.
The man looked like someone who wanted you to know he was rich.
I blinked. "What?"
He took a slow step forward, his voice laced with an edge.
"Are you Lyander's woman?"
There was a distinct pause. A moment where my brain just . . . froze.
Lyander. Again.
I exhaled sharply through my nose, trying to ignore the way my hands twitched against the rope.
So this was Lyander's fault.
Of course it was.
