A thunderous crash jolted Rose Harrison from her stupor. As her eyes fluttered open, she found herself surrounded by a group of men looming over her like grim reapers.

Ryker Salazar stood at the center, his expression cast in stone. An underling promptly pulled a chair over for him.

"Miss Harrison," Ryker chuckled, a low, malicious sound. "Forgive the humble accommodations. I hope you don't feel I’ve been an inadequate host."

Rose lifted her chin, her eyes cold and sharp. "Who are you? Why am I here? What kind of grudge could you possibly have against me?"

"A grudge? Is that what you call it?" Ryker sneered, pressing his tongue against his cheek. "Maximus Anderson has crippled dozens of my men and gutted my businesses. He owes me a debt written in blood."

"Maximus?" Rose whispered, the name catching in her throat. Her expression hardened instantly. Her mind raced: these people were his enemies. She forced herself to remain calm, pinning her last shreds of hope on the belief that Maximus would come for her. Surely, he wouldn't just leave her to die.

Ryker, watching her, let out a mocking laugh. He saw the flicker of naive hope in her eyes and realized she had no idea she was being used as a disposable pawn.

"You really don't grasp the situation, do you, Miss Harrison?" he taunted, leaning back. "Word on the street is that Maximus’s true heart belongs to a certain Miss Kelly. In fact, the moment he heard you’d been taken, he threw all his resources into protecting *her*."

Rose’s gaze faltered. Delilah Kelly? What was he talking about?

Ryker watched her face drain of color with twisted satisfaction. There was nothing he enjoyed more than watching someone’s world crumble. "Still not following? Let me be a good host and spell it out for you. Maximus caught wind of our operation, and he’s playing a game of smoke and mirrors. Truth be told, he’s a heartless bastard. You’re such a beautiful woman—how could he bring himself to use you like this?"

He raked his gaze over her, his eyes lecherous and hungry. "And frankly, his taste is garbage. You’re worth ten of that Delilah woman."

The realization hit Rose like a physical blow, leaving her hollowed out by a wave of crushing despair. So, she was nothing more than bait. All those moments of tenderness? A lie. She had been so foolish to believe in him. She had bathed in his fake warmth, drowned in his deceptions, and staked her life on the promise that he would be her savior.

*Wake up, Rose Harrison.*

The thought screamed through her mind. Everything was a lie. A dream she had stayed in far too long, until the numbness became a shroud.

Satisfied with the wreckage he had made of her spirit, Ryker stood up to leave. Halfway to the door, he paused, looking back with a sinister grin. "Make sure you show our guest the hospitality she deserves. Teach her our rules. Keep it light, though—we wouldn't want to break our leverage too early."

"Understood," a man behind him grunted.

A moment later, the men descended upon her, their fists and boots landing with practiced cruelty. Rose didn't scream. She endured the blows in silence, her mind drifting back to that prison cell, to the days when she had been nothing but a punching bag for others. Compared to that, this pain felt almost hollow.

She took the beating with a strange, detached stillness. After all, what were these physical wounds compared to the agony of a heart being ripped to shreds?