Ana woke up on a massive California king bed.
A dull ache throbbed in the crook of her arm, where an IV drip of saline was attached.
She blinked, taking in the luxurious furniture of the top-floor VIP suite.
Every single window blind was pulled tightly shut, blocking out the sun.
She ripped the tape off her hand and pulled the IV needle out.
Her bare feet hit the thick carpet as she walked toward the door.
She grabbed the metal handle and twisted.
It didn't budge. The electronic lock clicked from the outside, trapping her inside the suite's master bedroom.
Low voices drifted through the heavy wood, filtering in from the adjoining private living area.
Ana pressed her ear flat against the door, holding her breath.
"Why was the motorcade route leaked?" Auguste's voice was a low, furious growl.
An older man answered. "It was a precision assassination, sir. Disguised as a car crash."
Ana slapped a hand over her mouth.
Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird.
She was locked in a room with people involved in a deadly power struggle.
"We need to move him," the older man, Elwyn, said. "The hospital is compromised."
"No," Auguste snapped. "My son cannot be moved in this condition. We hold the perimeter."
Elwyn paused. "What about the female doctor inside? Her blood type is too coincidental. She could be a plant."
Silence stretched for two agonizing seconds.
"Run a full background check on her," Auguste ordered. "Dig up everything."
Ana's blood boiled.
She saved his son's life, and he was treating her like a terrorist.
She took a step back in anger, her heel catching the leg of a small side table.
A glass of water tipped over and fell.
It hit the thick carpet with a muffled, heavy thud.
The voices outside stopped instantly.
The silence was deafening.
The electronic lock beeped.
The door flew open, forcing Ana to stumble backward.
Auguste stood in the doorway, his eyes sharp enough to cut glass.
Elwyn stood behind him, his hand reaching inside his suit jacket for a weapon.
Ana forced her spine straight.
"You cannot illegally detain an American citizen!"
Auguste stepped into the room and kicked the door shut behind him.
He walked slowly toward her, backing her into the corner of the room.
He slammed his hand against the wall right next to her head, trapping her.
Ana was forced to tilt her head up.
His scent-dark, aggressive, and overwhelming-filled her lungs.
"If you breathe a single word of what you just heard, you will regret it," he whispered.
Ana bit her lower lip hard, tasting copper.
"I don't care about your mafia gang wars. Let me go back to my job."
Auguste's eyes widened for a fraction of a second at the word 'mafia'.
Then, a dark, cynical smile touched his lips.
He didn't correct her.
"Then you know exactly what kind of man you're dealing with. Behave."
The landline phone on the nightstand suddenly rang, shattering the intense tension between them.
Auguste stepped back, his chest heaving, and picked up the receiver.
His face changed.
He looked at Ana. "Leo is awake. He's asking for you."
