Page 52 of Malicious Claim

She refused to flinch, even when he leaned closer, his voice cold and menacing.

"You think you're so special?" His fingers dug deeper. She was certain she'd dissolve into the wall. Leila could feel hisbreath on her, and despite the danger, despite everything, she had the audacity to smile.

"Fuck being special. I think I got under your skin." The smile turned into a smirk.

Makros stiffened.

Then, as if he had been attempting to prove her wrong, he let her go. She stumbled, but didn’t fall.

Makros suddenly reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife.

Leila tensed.

With a single motion, he sliced through the zip ties binding her wrists. They fell down to the ground.

She looked up at him in confusion.

Makros snarled. "Run, little Redhead, Run."

Leila's heart pounded. "What's happening?"

He tilted his head. "Go on. Run. The door is unlocked. The hallway is empty."

But she didn't move. She wasn't stupid.

Makros stepped closer. "Want to escape so badly? I'll make you wish you hadn't."

A shudder worked through her, but she forced herself to meet his gaze.

Makros reached out, tracing a finger down the side of her bruised cheek.

"Go and rest," he murmured, "I'll demonstrate what it really means to be mine."

He turned and left, the door wide open.

Leila stood, heart racing.

She could run away.

But she'd tried that once and it got her nowhere. And now, she thought, she was going to stay behind for as long as it would take.

If he so desperately wanted to stop her from going anywhere, she'd simply have to turn herself into a thorn in his side.

Chapter Twenty Two

The Exchange

Ambassador Monroe rubbed one hand across his wet forehead, the dented car not even registering in his mind. His only concern was finding his daughter. His fingers trembled as he grabbed his personal phone from the tabletop. The displayed ID read blocked number. He knew well enough who it would be.

Drawing in air, he pressed the answer button and listened.

"You have what we want?" A gruff-sounding voice inquired without any preamble.

Ambassador Monroe gulped. "M- my daughter... I- is she alive?"

There was a brief pause while the caller held the phone up to Vanessa. Then the unmistakable sound of muffled crying could be heard over the receiver of the phone.

"Daddy! Daddy help me." The line went dead quiet.

---