❝ᴀʟʟ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴅᴏ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ.❞|| Marcus Graves was born to be a freedom fighter. He always wanted to get rid of all that makes the world digress since this same world brought him nothing but despair. His parents, Mother CIA...
Rochelle awoke to the cold, harsh bite of reality. Her head throbbed, and the metallic taste of blood lingered on her lips. The room was dim, illuminated only by a single overhead light that cast a narrow circle of brightness on the concrete floor beneath her. She was tied to a metal chair, her wrists bound tightly behind her back, ankles shackled to the legs of the chair. The air smelled of dampness and rust.
Her heart pounded as memories of the car chase flooded back. They had escaped the Red Fang—or so she thought. Now, she alone was deep in enemy territory, trapped with no way out. She should've seen the betrayal from one of her reporters coming.
A slow creak echoed from across the room as a heavy steel door swung open. Two large, silent figures stepped in first—Red Fang enforcers, their faces obscured by shadow. Behind them, a man stepped into the light, his presence commanding immediate attention.
...
Lucian West...
"To think you can steal from us and think we wouldn't retaliate immediately..."
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The leader of the Red Fang was tall, lean, and exuded a quiet, terrifying power. His suit was immaculate, dark gray with a blood-red tie. His face was angular, sharp like a blade, his eyes a cold, piercing blue that seemed to see right through Rochelle. He took his time walking toward her, the echo of his polished shoes bouncing off the walls.
Rochelle kept her face as composed as she could manage, despite the terror bubbling beneath her skin. Her mouth was dry, her pulse racing, but she forced herself to meet his gaze.
"Rochelle Donovan," West said, his voice smooth, almost polite. He stopped just outside the circle of light. "The brave little reporter who thought she could play in the big leagues."
Rochelle swallowed, her voice hoarse. "You know who I am. Guess that means I'm doing something right."
West's lips curled into a slight smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I'll admit, your little stunt at my club impressed me. It's not often someone manages to slip away from the Red Fang." He circled her slowly, his eyes studying her like a predator toying with its prey. "But you must've known that freedom was only temporary."
Rochelle clenched her jaw. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her fear. "You can't keep me here. People know I'm missing. When they come looking—"
"Who's going to come looking for you, Ms. Donovan?" West interrupted softly. "The police? The same corrupt department I have on my payroll? Or perhaps your bounty hunter friends, Nick and Marcus? You think they'll risk crossing me again?"
