Chapter 2
The man in the car, Jonas Lawson, let out a low chuckle, his voice casual yet laced with menace. “Looks like I’ll just have to settle this with your lives.”
Before his words had fully settled in the, the sound of gunfire ripped through the silence.
Natalie barely had time to
heavy body collapse against her, i
end what was happening before the grip on her arm slackened. She felt the kidnapper’s
den weight pressing her legs down.
Warm, sticky liquid splattered across calves, soaking into her skin. The sickening sensation jolted her nerves, and a chill of raw terror crawled down her spine.
An overwhelming surge of fear coursed tough her, leaving her muscles drained and her legs buckling beneath her. She sank to the ground in a trembling heap. He mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out, her voice strangled by the sheer panic gripping her chest.
Her head buzzed with chaos, thoughts spinning like an unstoppable storm. Around her, the world fell eerily silent. Not even a groan escaped from the bodies strewn nearby. The sudden quiet was broken only by the amplified sound of a car door creaking open.
Natalie’s trembling fingers dug into the skin of her wrist, nails biting down painfully. The sharp sting grounded her just enough to force her thoughts into coherence. “They didn’t kill me… That means there’s still room to negotiate.
The rhythmic thud of approaching footsteps echoed in her ears, each step sending a fresh wave of tension flooding her veins. She nervously raised her head, her gaze catching on a pair of sturdy combat boots moving toward her.
As her eyes trailed upward, they took in the muscular legs encased in black tactical pants, the taut lines of a lean waist, and broad shoulders that exuded an air of unyielding dominance. She craned her neck further, her breath catching when her gaze finally met his face.
The first thing that caught her attention was Jonas’s eyes. Deep–set and framed by thick, impossibly long lashes, his piercing blue gaze shimmered with an almost hypnotic brilliance, like sunlight dancing over a sea of shattered diamonds.
Jonas must have noticed her stolen glances because his lips quirked up in a slow, deliberate smile. As the corners of his mouth lifted, he looked over and his eyes followed suit, curving into a half–lidded expression that was both captivating and dangerous.
That smile was a weapon in itself–devastatingly alluring yet laced with the promise of untold peril. It disarmed her defenses effortlessly, leaving her vulnerable in a way she hadn’t thought possible.
Before she could gather herself, the buzz–cut woman who had been lounging casually against the hood of the SUV straightened and strode forward. She lifted her phone, snapped a couple of nonchalant photos of the fallen kidnappers, and uploaded them to the Nocriudor military network.
Her voice was flat and devoid of emotion as she announced, “Two fugitives from the red notice list, neutralized.”
The woman’s gaze then shifted to Natalie, her tone as indifferent as if she were debating what to have for dinner. “She’s likely with them. Boss, do we shoot her?”
‘Shoot… me?‘ Natalie’s pupils constricted, and the words echoed in her mind, pulling her back to reality.
Logically, the first thing anyone would do after hearing that would be to deny any association with the kidnappers. But the woman had spoken in Nocriudorian–heavily accented, regional Nocriudorian at that.
Natalie’s heart pounded as suspicion coiled around her. “Was she testing me? Seeing if I understood?”
Most Americans can’t be bothered with Nocriudorian. Why learn it when English gets you 90% of the way? Plus, everyone in the tourism industry speaks enough English to get by.
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Chapter 2
Even Natalie’s grandfather, who had done business in Nocriudor for years, only knew a smattering of the language.
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And yet, here Natalie was, a supposedly ordinary traveler, not only fluent in Nocriudorian but in a dialect so obscure that even locals might struggle with it. Trying to explain that away would be a nightmare.
Worse still, the reason she’d learned it in the first place was something she herself found laughable.
No. That was a complication he couldn fford.
So she did what made the mos
-she pretended not to understand.
“I’m American,” she said, sticking to, her voice trembling just enough to sound convincing. “I was kidnapped at the airport. If you can get me somewhe fe, I’ll pay you.”
Her gaze darted between them, calcula “I don’t have seventy million, but I can sell my family’s estate. That’d get me three million. If the’s not enough, I’ll find another way.”
Her tone was sweet, almost pleading, with just the right mix of desperation and sincerity to tug at even the coldest heart.
Jonas, however, didn’t so much as blink. He didn’t confirm or deny her words. Instead, with languid ease, he lifted his cigarette to his lips and took a slow drag, exhaling smoke into the thickening air. Time seemed to stretch, his silence heavy with unspoken decisions.
His sensual lips parted slightly, releasing a thin stream of smoke that curled around his face, shrouding his features in a veil of mystery. Whatever thoughts lingered behind those striking eyes were impenetrable, hidden behind his nonchalant facade.
“Oh, so you’re an American.” The words came out in flawless American English–low, unhurried, and maddeningly smooth. His accent was impeccable, unnervingly so. The sound of her native tongue, spoken with such casual ease, sent a strange warmth trickling down Natalie’s spine.
But the foreign danger in the air kept her rigid with caution.
Swallowing hard, she forced her voice steady. “Yes. I am.”
Jonas finally crouched down. The action caused the lean muscles beneath his camo uniform to tense, outlining a sculpted, taut physique. The sheer intensity of his presence, commanding and suffocating, stood in stark contrast to his youthful, strikingly handsome face. And yet, somehow, the two were perfectly in harmony.
He let out a soft scoff. “Identification?”
Natalie froze, her heart, which had barely calmed from its earlier frenzy, began to race again.
She knew all too well how vital passports and IDs were in war–torn regions like this one. Without proof of identity, she might as well be invisible–or worse, expendable. But the truth was, she didn’t have them.
She knew exactly how much identification mattered in war zones like this. No passport, no ID? She might as well not exist. Worse–without proof, she was disposable.
Panic clawed at her chest. She could never have predicted any of this. No matter how she turned it over in her mind, she couldn’t understand why the kidnappers had blown up the private jet, or why they had taken her alive.
The jet had been leased under her grandfather’s name. Was she expected to compensate for the damage?
She barely registered her own voice when she finally spoke.“It’s… it’s in my bag. On the plane.”
“Then it’s gone,” Jonas said flatly. His tone was calm, almost indifferent, but there was a chill lurking beneath his words that sent a shiver down her spine.
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Chapter 2
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An inexplicable sense of foreboding surged within her. Something about his demeanor, the way he spoke, made her feel as though he’d already made up his mind to abandon her.
Desperation gripped her like a vice. “I really am American,” she blurted out, her voice trembling but determined. “I can prove it.”
“Oh?” Jonas’s response was a low, throaty ound of curiosity, as though humoring her. But his body told a different story. Slowly, he began to straight. his move ents measured and deliberate, signaling his intent to leave.
Natalie’s mind raced. She ou undoubtedly come off as crazy t prove her identity.
the sand of time slipping through her fingers. She knew her next move would
ne watching, but she didn’t care. She was out of options and had no other way to
She didn’t want to die. Jonas’s earlier. That, in this war–torn hellscape, was he
ractions had made one thing crystal clear–he wasn’t hostile toward Americans.
e sliver of hope. She had to seize it, no matter how ridiculous it made her look.
Taking a deep, shaky breath, she did the only thing she could think of.
She opened her mouth and began to yell in a single, desperate burst, “It’s me. Hi. I’m the problem. It’s me. I identify as a brat. Money doesn’t grow on trees? Yes, it does. It’s paper. I’m working late cause I’m a singer. It’s hoa hoa hoa season. I know what you are. Say it. Out loud. Say it…
Jonas listened to her trembling words, her voice cracking from fear and nerves. For a brief moment, he appeared stunned, as if caught off guard. Then, a low, sardonic chuckle escaped his lips.
Natalie instantly froze, the sound cutting through her like a whip. Her face flushed a deep crimson, both from embarrassment and the suffocating tension. Her wide, anxious eyes fixated on Jonas through the narrow gap in her blindfold.
It felt as though a guillotine were poised above her neck, the blade ready to drop at any second. Every muscle in her body went rigid, fear locking her in place as she barely dared to breathe.
Without warning, Jonas moved. The hand holding his cigarette casually shifted, and before she could react, his fingers grasped her cheeks, firm but not bruising. His deep, velvety voice followed, tinged with an almost amused warmth. “You better hold on tight, spider monkey.”
Natalie’s breath hitched, her eyes widening in disbelief. He had joined in, finishing her sentences as if it were second nature. Her heart leapt, a flicker of hope sparking within her. In that instant, the excitement made her body tremble slightly.
Jonas had simply replied casually, but when he saw her expression, as though she had just cracked some secret code, surviving this ordeal, he couldn’t help but find her naivety amusing.
He tilted his head slightly, as if considering something. His sharp gaze dropped to her slender neck, her delicate skin. glowing.
Slowly, his free hand moved, fingers teasingly brushing her collar. He tugged the collar down to reveal the smooth expanse of her collarbone. A mischievous glint flickered in his eyes.
The faint chill of his touch made Natalie flinch, but she forced herself to stay still and calm.
Jonas, sensing her tension, released her collar, his voice dripping with malicious amusement. “They didn’t have their way with you? What happened? Did they suddenly grow a conscience?”
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