She had laughed about finding a rich husband, then laughed even harder when Sage told her she would probably murder him before their first anniversary.
Now she was sitting in a freezing room, tied to a chair, with a gun pointed at her head, and all she could think about was how unfair it was that she might never get to live the life she had joked about.
She hadn't even had the chance to tell Sage how scared she was.
A tear slid over Harper's cheek and dropped onto her shirt.
The bearded man watched her for a moment before lowering the gun slightly. He stepped closer, crouched in front of her, and wiped the tears from her face with a gesture so unexpectedly gentle that Harper recoiled as far as the ropes allowed.
“Easy, princess. You don't have to cry like this.”
“Don't f*****g touch
