Amelie’s POVI woke to the sound of metal.Not footsteps, not doors—metal. Chains dragging, rattling, clanging against something hard. The noise burrowed under my skin, yanking me from a shallow, restless sleep. My eyes fluttered open, sticky with exhaustion, my head pounding as though Raphael’s gun still pressed against my skull.I wasn’t in the woods anymore. But some part of me wished Raphael had left me in there.But no, the room was bigger than what I had seen previously. High ceilings. Bright lights overhead, cold and artificial, glaring down so sharply they burned my eyes. It was sterile, stripped of comfort, but not empty. The air smelled of sweat, iron, and something acrid, like oil. My body lay on the cold floor, limbs stiff, wrists free but raw, the skin around them cut and red from ropes.And then I saw him.Raphael.He sat like a king on his throne, a plain chair elevated only by the way he occupied it. Black shirt rolled to the elbows, slacks crisp, his posture leisurel
閱讀更多
