se, Aria's stomach ached with hunger, and the pain in her hand was a constant, dull throb. The antibiotic

n gates. Through the iron bars, she

oarse. "I need to go to a pharmacy in to

nd indifference. "Sorry, ma'am. My orders are clear. No est

nowledgment. She looked down the long, two-mile stretch of private asphalt

te next to the main one. She pu

made the air difficult tobreathe. After the first mile, her vision started to swim. Her legs felt

utting one foot in front of the other.

e estate's black SUVs. This was different. A sleek, black May

rear window

old-rimmed glasses. He looked familiar. Wyatt Knight, CEO of The Knight Grou

lm and gentle. "It's a long walk to the

ke a betrayal, though she couldn't say of what. But as she opened her mou

his hand was there, hovering near her elbow, a steadying presenc

a mumbled "Thank you," she ducked into the blissf

mall cooler. He didn't ask what she was doing walking in the heat. He didn't comment on her dish

soothing her parched throat. The c

where it met the public highway, when another car appea

gated the narrow junction. For a spl

h the partially open window of the Maybach. He saw her. He saw Aria, her hair a mess, her face pale, taking a bottle o

window ceasing to exist. A primal, possessive fury, hot and volcanic, erupted i

the back of the driver's

his voice a low, dangerous g

he SUV's tires screamed in protest as it executed a sharp, ill

s knuckles were white where he gripped his phone. He saw his