Isla felt the cold metal of the cuffs biting into her wrists as she was led through the back door of the beach house mansion.
The salty breeze from the ocean whipped around her, mingling with the scent of the sea and the faint aroma of luxury that surrounded the estate.
Each step on the marble pathway felt heavy, weighted with the gravity of her situation.
She glanced over her shoulder at Elara, who stood waiting near the yacht, her expression unreadable beneath the fading sunlight.
The sight of the yacht bobbing gently in the waves sent a shiver down Isla's spine. Yachts and waters—this was where Angelina was frequently taken, and now Isla understood that she was about to join her.
The gentle lapping of waves against the dock seemed to mock the tension in the air.
As the bouncer-like men pushed her forward, their grip firm but not cruel, Isla's heart raced with a mix of fear and determination. Her mind was spinning with possibilities, trying to piece together a plan.
She had to
