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“How the fuck did you expect me to get her out, huh? Lift the car like I’m fucking Superman and roll it off so I can carry her out like some hero?” Rio spits.

My chest seizes. The roughness of his tone feels like scratching nails on a chalkboard. I’ve awoken to that damn voice too many times now. And each time is a stark reminder that I’ve been pulled down into a nightmare and haven’t found my way out yet.

“If you hadn’t hit the car so fucking hard, none of this would be happening, you piece of shit.”

“If you hadn’t been so fucking doped up and screaming in my ear, then you could’ve been the fucking driver like you were supposed to be.”

“Gentlemen, let’s take a breather. She’s awake. Her blood pressure is rising.”

My breath stills, but I don’t bother pretending. Slowly, I open my eyes to see three men surrounding me, staring at me as if I’m a lab rat in an experiment.

A very fucking horrible experiment.

My eyes clash with a dark pair first. Nearly black and lifeless from the lack of warmth. Tattoos cover his light brown skin, the laurel leaves on either side of his throat snagging my attention first. He’s wearing a zipped-up leather jacket, but black ink swirls on his hands and up to each of his fingers, indicating he’s most likely covered in them. He has sharp angular features, arched thick brows, along with a scar cutting through the side of his closely cropped black hair, completing his near-feral appearance. He’d be attractive if he didn’t look like he’d rather see me dead.

My gaze moves to the man next to him; he’s grungy-looking with scabs on his face from apparent drug use. A mop of greasy hair covered by a backward ball cap, a dirty wife-beater, and pants too big. I recognize him as the other man who kidnapped me.

Finally, I look over to the third man—who I assume to be a doctor. Gray hair, blue eyes, a bushy mustache, and wrinkles disturbing the otherwise smooth expression on his face. His stare is softer, matching the tenor in which he speaks. But something is off about him. A deep, penetrating vibe that I can’t quite place.

I look away, a cold tremor settling deep in the marrow of my bones. The dull, throbbing pain is growing sharper but still not nearly as potent compared to when I awoke in that van. Whatever painkillers they pumped into my system must be fading, and I’m not above begging for more.

All of my muscles ache so profoundly that I feel as if a hard shell has molded around my bones. I’m incredibly stiff, and every movement twinges.

Breathing through the aches, I glance around. I’m in a darkened, white room. It’s… sterile in here. Not clean like a hospital, which is where I expected to be, but we’re not in a dungeon, either.

I’m not sure why I even expected that.

Dirty white walls, concrete flooring, and silver cabinets line nearly every wall in the room. Next to the hospital bed is a large metal table with a bowl and various instruments laid out on a bloody cloth.

Different sorts of machines are placed throughout the room. While I don’t recognize most of them, the beeping device next to me monitoring my vitals is familiar, along with the IV that leads directly into my arm.

The doctor grabs a Styrofoam cup from the table next to my bed and hands it to me.

“Drink slowly,” he instructs.

Shakily, I grab the cup and sip on it. The cold water feels like dumping ice on a burn. Painfully relieving.

Scratchy, white blankets cover me up to my waist, and when I look down, I notice I’m in nothing but a light blue gown.

Somehow, that’s the worst part. They can see the evidence of just how cold it is in here.

Noticing where my eyes are trained, the doctor speaks up. “I do apologize for your clothing. I had to cut them off of you so I could properly treat you and assess the damage you’ve suffered.”

“You can thank Rio for that,” the grungy man mutters under his breath. Plenty loud enough for me to pick up on through the near-constant fear steadily swirling in my bloodstream.

“Shut the fuck up, Rick,” Rio snaps back, his accent deepening with fury. "Or I will kill you myself, and unlike your precious diamond, no one will miss you."

This… this is a terror unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. It’s nothing like the fear Zade invoked in me, and definitely not a cheap thrill I get from haunted houses and scary movies. This is what it feels like when you’re well and truly fucked.

The monitor betrays my body, the beeping increasing until the doctor glances at it with concern.

I scarcely remember the events after they sent my car rolling. However, I do vaguely recall Rio’s face hovering over me after he dragged me out of the car, his mouth moving but his words evading me. All except six.

Time to go to sleep, princess.

“Where am I?” I whisper and then cough, clearing some of the phlegm from my throat.

“At the fucking Ritz-Carlton, princess. Where do you think?” Rio snaps, his features still tight with anger.