CHAPTER 6
ARIANA POV
The engine of the V8-770 purred with a deep, expensive frequency that vibrated right through the soles of my boots.
I eased the beast into the main flow of traffic, my hands light on the steering wheel as a soft grin cuts across my face.
"Damian..." I whispered, the name tasting like smoke and expensive whiskey.
I checked the rearview mirror, half-expecting to see a very angry man in a tailored suit sprinting after me.
But the street remained empty, the neon glow of the convenience store fading into a blur of pink and blue in the distance.
I scoffed, shaking my head. The guy was good—I had to give him that. He'd clocked my pulse, my posture, and a total identity overhaul in the span of thirty seconds.
Most men in Saacity were too busy looking at my chest or my hands to notice the way I breathed.
But Damian? He'd looked at me like he was reading a blueprint. And, God, he was infuriatingly attractive.
That dark, unyielding energy, the gray eyes that looked like a stormy sea right before a shipwreck.
It was a shame, really. If he hadn't been such an arrogant prick — and if I hadn't been in a hurry — I might have actually enjoyed the flirting.
"Don't let there be a third time," I mimicked his low baritone, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "I don't give warnings three times."
"Well, I don't give warnings either, sweetheart," I muttered, checking my blind spot. I knew this was his car from the get go. No other car from the curb screamed rich like him.
I needed to get to my secondary safe house—a cramped, soul-less hole in the wall near the docks that didn't exist on any map.
I had to dump this car, scrub the blood from my clothes, and figure out who the hell 'Marco' was.
If he was sending professional cleaners to my apartment, my "new mission" was officially put to a break.
I needed to clear this obstacle, whether I liked it or not. I started to plan my route, mentally mapping the back alleys and dead zones where the city's surveillance was blind.
I was halfway through a mental list of the gear I had left when the car decided it was bored with my plans.
Click.
It was a small sound but it hammered like a cocking on a pistol. I frowned, glancing at the door handle.
The lock hadn't just engaged. The handle had retracted into the door itself, leaving nothing but a smooth surface.
"Okay... paranoid security system," I muttered, reaching for the unlock button on the console. I pressed it.
Nothing happened. I pressed it again, harder. The button didn't even click. It was dead.
Then came the second sound. A heavy, pneumatic thud from deep within the doors. It felt like steel shutters were sliding into place, reinforcing the frame.
My stomach did a slow, icy roll. "Computer, unlock doors," I said, my voice dropping the sarcasm and adopting the flat, cold tone of a woman who was realizing she'd just walked into a very expensive trap.
"Security Protocol Alpha Initiated," a cool, feminine voice vibrated through the high-end speakers.
It was too calm. Too polite.
"Override. Code 9-9-0-Alpha," I snapped, throwing out a standard military bypass code.
"Access Denied. Biometric Verification Failed. Redirecting to Master Destination." Suddenly, the steering wheel jerked under my hands. I gripped it, my knuckles turning white as I tried to force the car back toward the docks, but it was like trying to turn a skyscraper.
The wheel was locked in a pre-programmed path. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me," I hissed.
I slammed my foot on the brake. The pedal stayed firm, but the car didn't slow down. It actually accelerated, the needle climbing past eighty as it weaved through traffic with a precision that was terrifyingly inhuman.
Then came the darkness.
A thick, liquid black film began to bleed across the windshield and side windows. It was an electrochromic tint, turning the glass from transparent to darkness in seconds.
Within moments, the city lights were gone. The moon was gone. I was sitting in a soundproof, lightless box, hurtling through the night at lethal speeds.
I didn't panic. Panic was for people with souls and regular heartbeats. I reached into my bag, pulling out my bypass device, my fingers working by touch in the absolute dark.
I fumbled for the panel I'd ripped open earlier, feeling for the wires. I found them. I yanked. I tried to short the system, to force a hard reset.
A small blue spark hissed in the dark, illuminating the cabin for a split second.
"Unauthorized tampering detected," the voice said.
"Sedation measures standing by."
I froze, my hand hovering over the wires. Sedation? "Damian," I breathed, the realization hitting me.
He hadn't let me go. He'd just opened the cage door and waited for me to walk inside.
He hadn't been buying water. He'd been waiting for the notification.
I leaned back into the leather seat, the adrenaline finally settling into a cold, hard knot of fury.
I was a trained assassin, a girl who had survived the worst the world could throw at her, and I'd just been kidnapped by a self-driving SUV.
"You're going to regret this, Damian," I whispered into the darkness of the cabin. The car slowed down, the hum of the engine deepening as it climbed a steep incline.
I felt the slight vibration of a gravel driveway beneath the tires, then the echoing silence of a large, enclosed space.
A garage.
The car came to a smooth, perfect stop.
I waited, my hand sliding down to the hidden blade tucked into my boot.
The "green snake" was cornered, and everyone knows a snake is most dangerous when it has nowhere left to run.
The locks gave a final, triumphant thud. The door swung open.
Guns were pointed at me.