Unspoken Truths - Book 2
Straight to voicemail.
“Damian, it’s me. I love you. I’m at Matteo’s penthouse. Please hurry,” I whispered, my voice breaking.
Then I tried Gabriella next, but her phone went straight to voicemail as well. I didn’t leave a message. Instead, I opened the browser and typed in: Explosion. New York. Today.
The first headline was a knife to my chest. Brooklyn Warehouse Explosion: Five Dead, No Survivors. I blinked, hoping I’d misread, but the words stayed the same. Five dead, No survivors.
Bab Populer