Meryl's POV
The warehouse doors creaked open, and the stale air hit me like a slap. My breath caught in my throat as I stepped inside, my entire body going rigid at the scene that greeted me.
Four figures hung suspended from the ceiling like broken dolls. Their arms stretched high above their heads, thick ropes cutting deep grooves into their wrists. Blood trickled down their arms in slow, steady streams. Their feet barely grazed the concrete floor, forcing their entire weight onto their bound wrists.
All four of them. Beaten. Bloodied. Destroyed.
Even Adelaide was among them.
"Andre," I whispered, my voice catching as I turned to face him.
His arm slipped around my waist, pulling me against his solid frame. His dark eyes held mine with an intensity that made my stomach flutter. No warmth crossed his features, just cold calculation.
