Chapter 23The harsh fluorescent bulb buzzing above the metal table cast long, sickly shadows across the interrogation room.Maya stared at the photograph resting on the scarred steel surface. Her wrists, raw and bruised from forty-eight hours in federal holding, ached against the handcuffs chaining her to the chair. But the physical pain was entirely eclipsed by the violent, suffocating knot pulling tight in her chest.In the high-resolution glossy print, Julian stood in the apse of a private cathedral. He was wearing a flawless black tuxedo. Standing across from him, her hands resting intimately in his, was a striking, ethereal blonde woman draped in custom white lace. Julian wasn't looking at the camera. He was looking down at the woman with an expression of quiet, focused intensity."Julian isn't coming for you, Maya," Damian Croft purred, pulling a chair out and sitting across from her.Croft was a remarkably handsome man, polished and sleek, but his smile didn't reach his flat,
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