The door slammed open.
Hands, strong and unrelenting, gripped her arms, yanking her inside. The movement was sudden, violent, enough to send her yelp echoing through the corridor. The air shifted, the corridor outside swallowing her cry in a rush of music,
The door thudded behind her.
Not with a roar. Not with a crash.
But with a quiet finality that seemed to press the air flat, to trap the light in the corners, to fold the room in on itself — and leave her suspended in the sudden stillness.
Raya's back hit the wall before she even understood that a hand had closed around her wrist, yanking her forward with more desperation than strength. The impact wasn't brutal, but it was unexpected enough to knock the breath out of her lungs. The wall was cool. The body pinning her there was burning hot.
Two arms caged her in.
Two arms that trembled — not from fear, but from the drug Derek had plunged into the man's vein minutes ago.
Luca Romano.
