Three weeks of peace.
Three weeks of Isla learning the empire. Of attending meetings with Killian's lieutenants. Of being treated with cautious respect instead of dismissal.
Three weeks of feeling powerful. Dangerous. In control.
Then Tuesday shattered everything.
Isla was reviewing shipping manifests in Killian's office when Luca burst in. No knock. His face pale.
"Mrs. Archer. Your father. He's been taken."
The papers slipped from Isla's hands. "What?"
"Your father was at his weekly doctor's appointment. Three men grabbed him in the parking lot. Forced him into a van. We have footage but—" Luca pulled up video on his tablet. "—they knew where the cameras were. Faces hidden. No plates."
Isla's blood went cold as she watched her father being shoved into a van. Struggling. Terrified.
"When?"
"Twenty minutes ago. They left a message." Luca handed her a phone.
One text: We have your father. Wait for instructions. Tell Killian and he dies.
"Where's Killian?" Isla demanded.
