Isabella’s POVAs soon as those words left his mouth, I winced in pain.My wrists burned like they’d been dipped in acid, but the knife was still clutched in my numb fingers, hidden against my palm. Agnes and I sat perfectly still, breathing shallow, playing the part of two terrified, helpless women.The four men who’d walked in weren’t the same ones from the bathroom.These ones looked… expensive…somewhat polished.Their leader…the one who spoke earlier… was middle-aged, maybe late fifties, silver threading his dark hair, clean-shaven, wearing a charcoal suit that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe. Flanking him were three younger men…also in tailored suits, earpieces, no visible weapons but the kind of posture that said they didn’t need them to be dangerous. They looked like security detail for a CEO, not kidnappers.Agnes broke the silence first, voice dripping acid.“Hello ladies? Are you kidding me right now? What the hell do you want? Is kidnapping young, pretty girls y
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