The room smelled of dust and old smoke. The walls were stripped bare, patches of peeled wallpaper clinging like ghosts that refused to leave. A single light flickered above me, the kind that hummed and stuttered like it was on its last breath.
My head was spinning.
The last thing I remembered was Jace saying "Trust me."
Then…darkness.
Now, here.
I sat in what used to be a dining chair, my wrists aching from where I must've been gripping the armrests too tightly. My heart wouldn't slow down. It was beating so hard it felt like the whole room could hear it.
This was part of Jace's plan.
That was what I kept telling myself, even as fear clawed at the edges of my throat.
He said he would handle Massimo. He said it was controlled. But there was nothing controlled about how my pulse raced now, or how cold the air felt against my skin.
The sound of footsteps came next. They were slow and deliberate.
