The warehouse smelled like rust, sweat, and fear. I stood frozen just inside the entrance, my finest blue dress suddenly feeling like a costume for a play I never auditioned for. Around me, wolves in cages rattled metal bars with desperate hands. Others stood on raised platforms under harsh lights, their heads bowed while strangers shouted numbers. My stomach twisted into knots so tight I thought I might vomit. "Mitchell," I whispered, grabbing my husband's arm. "What is this place? Why are we here?" He shook off my grip without looking at me. His jaw was set in a way I had never seen before, hard and cold like stone. "Just stay quiet, Mirabel. Do what you are told for once." Do what I am told? In two years of marriage, Mitchell had never spoken to me like that. My heart started hammering against my ribs; something was terribly, horribly wrong. A man approached us, tall and scarred, with eyes that looked dead inside. He wore an expensive suit that clashed with the warehouse grim
Última atualização : 2026-07-14 Ler mais