Viona's POV
Jane giggled to herself at her own joke, and I shot her a warning look, silently begging her to just stop already.
"Jane Roosevelt. This isn't a movie," Rafael said coldly. "I've seen plenty of strangers kidnapped into cars in war zones, and an hour later, they were dumped out without their limbs. Want to guess what happened inside that car?"
His voice carried such brutal authority that it cut Jane's giggling off instantly. She swallowed hard—and so did I.
Jane was a spoiled tomboy princess from a powerful family, fearless by nature. She always said whatever crossed her mind, unapologetic and unfiltered.
Yet even with that carefree attitude, Rafael's words hit their mark. Silence fell, making the spacious limousine feel painfully cramped.
Jane and Rafael locked eyes, like blades colliding midair.
"Rafael, why are you suddenly so serious? You know Jane's always liked joking around, right?" I said, trying to smooth it over.
