Dazed and confused, she didn't know how many days had passed. One afternoon, she was dragged out of bed by Brandan Hyde's men. Her dislocated joints were put back into place one by one. She was sore all over, seething with a desire to have Brandan skinned to vent her fury.
"Move."
The subordinate gave her a shove.
"Where to?"
"Young Hyde wants to see you."
"..." Luna Clark pursed her lips slightly and walked out in silence. Her ankle had just been reset, and her posture was awkward. It took her a long time to make her way from upstairs to downstairs.
In the center of the villa's grand hall, an elegant man with a noble demeanor sat on the leather sofa. His posture was relaxed, smoking a cigarette as he spoke to someone on a laptop across the coffee table.
"Young Hyde, she's here."
Luna Clark was pushed in front of him. She stared at him with resentment, wishing her gaze could cut him into pieces.
