Angela's eyes were wide, her body coiled tight, every muscle screaming for her to run. I didn't let go of her wrist, my grip unyielding, my fingers pressing just enough to remind her who was in control.
"Hide. Now." My voice was a blade, sharp and cold, cutting through the chaos outside. The roar of engines and the thunderous beat of helicopter rotors shook the villa, dust raining down from the ceiling like a grim omen.
"Bathroom. Lock the door, and don't you dare come out until I say so."
Angela's breath came in ragged gasps. For a second, I saw the defiance flicker in her eyes—the urge to fight, to demand answers, to drag me away from whatever hell was about to unfold. But she'd seen what I could do.
She knew better. Her lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, she swallowed hard, her throat bobbing as she forced herself to nod. "Be safe," she whispered, her voice trembling like a leaf in a storm.
