Page 47 of Surrendering to the Obsession

Mia was the first to wake.

Her eyelids fluttered, a dull throb pounding behind them. The moment she opened her eyes, a wave of dizziness washed over her, forcing her to bite down on her lip to stay present.

The room came into focus—dim, dirty, smelling of cheap alcohol, smoke, and dust. Faded neon lights flickered above, giving everything a sickly glow. A storage-like club room. Metal walls. A shut, bolted door. No windows.

Her hands and legs were tied tightly, ropes scraping her wrists raw.

She inhaled slowly, forcing her heartbeat to steady.

Beside her, James was slumped against the wall, head hanging forward, his shirt wrinkled, dirt smeared across his cheek. His wrists were tied just as tightly, his breathing shallow but steady.

Before she could call his name, he groaned—low, pained.

Mia stiffened instinctively.

And then she noticed them.

A man stood directly in front of them, dressed in all black—hood up, face half-covered. A gun hung loosely from his hand, casual, familiar, like he was born holding it. Several other men positioned themselves around the room—shoulders broad, eyes cold, alert and silent.

Predators.

James blinked awake a few seconds later, confusion fogging his eyes before everything sharpened at once.

His gaze jerked to Mia. Then to the gun pointed in their direction. Then back to the men surrounding them.

His entire body went rigid.

Before he could speak, Mia sucked in a shaky breath and said through clenched teeth, “I don’t have any money. If you want to kidnap someone, then kidnap James. Why drag me into this? I’m literally bankrupt.”

James’s head snapped toward her, disbelief flashing in his eyes. “Mia—?”

She ignored him.

The leader stepped forward, gun lifting until it pressed right against James’s forehead. The metal clicked softly, chilling the air.

“It is your fault,” the man said, voice low and deadly, “for messing with the wrong people.”

James didn’t flinch. But his jaw tightened, his body subtly shifting, placing himself marginally closer to Mia as if by instinct.

“Who hired you?” James asked, voice steady, though his eyes blazed with restrained fury. “I’ll pay you double. Just let us go.”

The man let out a short, mocking laugh. “I don’t want your money. I want more than that.”

He snapped his fingers.

One of the men dragged a heavy suitcase forward, dropping it onto a dusty table. A loudthunkfilled the room. The zipper ripped open, revealing stacks, towering stacks, of cash inside.

The leader looked at Mia this time.

“You have two options,” he said, voice cold enough to freeze bone. “First, you can die together.”

He tapped the briefcase.

“Second, you separate from this man, take the money and leave. What do you choose?”

Silence fell. Every pair of eyes in the room shifted to Mia.

Mia looked from the gun… to the suitcase… then back at the man.