Deadly Game
Aria
The basement of the rundown safehouse on the edge of the industrial district smelled of damp concrete, old iron, and dust. It was perfect. No cameras, no biometric grids, and completely off the Thorne and Vance maps. I had spent the last forty-eight hours setting it up, anchoring a heavy steel chair to the floorboards and checking the strength of the reinforced leather restraints.
Tomorrow was Malakai’s wedding day.
Every billboard in the upper city was flashing the news of the rushed Thorne-Vance corporate marriage. Victoria Vance thought she had finally cornered the devil. She thought she was going to walk down the aisle, sign the asset merger, and bleed Malakai’s empire dry.