Chapter 1

The moment I realized I was being abducted at the shipping warehouse on Warehouse Four, my first instinct was to dial Arthur Hayes, my head bodyguard and supposed boyfriend.

"Arthur, track my phone. Someone took me," I said.

"Serena Sterling, are you seriously doing this right now?" Arthur shot back impatiently, his voice nearly drowning out the theatrical whimpers of Anna Collins in the background.

"Anna is terrified of the dark, and I have to get her back to her apartment safely," he added defensively.

"Look, your family owns the entire Eastshore District. Who in their right mind would actually kidnap you?" he scoffed. "Stop using these pathetic little stunts just to test me."

The line went dead with an abrupt click.

Across the room, the leader of the smuggling ring began stepping toward me, the blade of his dagger dripping with fresh blood.

Staying calm, I tapped the screen of my smartwatch and dialed into an encrypted frequency.

"Warehouse Four. I am pinned down," I murmured into the receiver.

"Oh, sweetheart, it looks like your guard is slipping, so I guess I will just have to handle this myself," a magnetic voice purred from the other end.

Arthur was nothing more than a pretentious lapdog who forgot his place. Since he could no longer do his job, it was time to put him down and replace him.

*****

The freezing concrete floor radiated a pungent, musty stench.

Bound to a rickety chair, my wrists were chafed raw by the rough hemp rope.

Marcus Doyle, the leader of the smugglers, approached me, his heavy combat boots slamming into a puddle and splashing a shower of filthy mud.

"Ms. Sterling, it seems your bodyguard could not care less whether you live or die," he sneered, roughly gripping my chin and forcing my head up.

I met his gaze with absolute icy detachment.

"Name your price, and I will wire the money right now," I offered flatly.

Marcus responded by delivering a vicious backhand across my face. My head snapped to the side, and the thick, metallic taste of blood instantly flooded my mouth.

"Money?" he scoffed darkly. "You wiped out three of our dock strongholds, and you think you can write a check to settle the score?"

He drove his boot hard into my stomach. I crashed to the ground, taking the splintered chair with me. My internal organs twisted in pure agony, making every single breath feel like swallowing glass.

"Get her up," Marcus ordered, waving a hand at his thugs.

Two massive men stepped forward, hauling me up by the arms and strapping me back into place.

Marcus kicked a rusty bucket filled with a vile mixture of motor oil and dirty water right to my feet.

"Drink up, and I might consider leaving your corpse intact," he threatened.

I turned my head away, refusing to even look at the nauseating sludge.

"How does it feel?" he taunted. "The almighty CEO of a multinational empire is reduced to a pathetic stray dog crawling in the dirt."

I spat a mouthful of bloody saliva onto the floor and stared dead into his eyes.

"You had better kill me right now," I warned him softly. "Because if you do not, I promise I will make you deeply regret the day you were born."

Marcus burst into a fit of echoing laughter that bounced off the hollow walls of the warehouse.

"Still got a mouth on you," he yelled. "Teach her a lesson."

A group of his men closed in, gripping heavy iron crowbars.

A storm of brutal blows rained down on my back and legs. I curled in on myself, biting my lower lip until it bled. The sickening crunch of my bones snapping echoed in my ears as blinding pain consumed my entire body.

Cold sweat soaked completely through my silk blouse.

My phone, which had fallen a few feet away, suddenly lit up the dim space. It was a message from Arthur.

Marcus walked over and snatched it off the ground.

"Let us see what your dear boyfriend has to say," he mocked, shoving the illuminated screen right into my face.

A photo dominated the screen. It showed Anna, dressed in a flimsy silk slip, curled intimately against Arthur's chest. Attached to it was a voice memo.

Marcus tapped play.

Anna's fragile, overly sweet whimpers echoed through the grim warehouse.

"Arthur, do you think Serena hates me?" she whimpered. "Why else would she make up some crazy lie about being kidnapped to trick you into leaving me?"

This was immediately followed by Arthur's profoundly irritated drawl. "She is insanely jealous and paranoid all the time. Ignore her. I am staying right here with you tonight."

I stared at that photo, and the blood in my veins turned entirely to ice.

I was rotting in a damp, filthy warehouse getting my bones shattered to pieces, while my head of security, the man I had dated for three years, was busy cuddling another woman.

"Looks like you really have been tossed to the curb," Marcus sneered, tossing my phone onto the concrete.

He walked over to a flaming barrel and pulled out a glowing, red-hot iron rod. "Since nobody is coming to save you, I think it is time to collect some interest."

The searing heat radiated against my cheek, carrying the stomach-turning scent of scorched metal. I closed my eyes, bracing for the devastating pain.

A deafening crash shook the entire building. The heavy iron doors of the warehouse were completely blown off their hinges by a massive black SUV. The sheer impact was deafening, kicking up a massive cloud of dust and debris.

Leon Mercer stepped out of the vehicle, his tailored black trench coat billowing as his leather shoes crunched over the shattered glass. He held a sleek silver handgun, a thin wisp of white smoke still curling from the barrel.

"Let her go," Leon commanded, his voice carrying a lethal chill.

Marcus froze for a split second before raising the iron rod and charging at Leon. "Who the hell do you think you are?" Marcus roared.

Leon did not even spare Marcus a second glance before pulling the trigger. The bullet pierced cleanly through Marcus' kneecap. A bloodcurdling scream tore through the warehouse.

Leon's operatives flooded the space, neutralizing every single kidnapper in under ten seconds.

Leon walked over to me, stripping off his trench coat and wrapping it gently around my violently trembling shoulders.

"Is this the stellar man you picked for yourself?" he asked with heavy sarcasm.