Aidan
I was still brooding about Ivy when my phone buzzed with an unwelcome text message. Was it her? Did she finally realize her mistake and now want to come back?
I grinned at the thought of punishing her for her misbehaving.
But it wasn't Ivy who messaged me. It was an unknown number. My eyes darted over the chilling words, each one hitting me like a knife to the gut: "I have Ivy. Come alone if you want to see her again,---Slava."
My blood runs cold, ice creeping through my veins. That asshole got her. The thought of what he might do to her sent waves of anger rolling through me, but I shoved them down. Blind rage wouldn't help her – only action would.
"Damn you, Slava!" I hissed, my fingers tightening around the phone until the edges dug into my skin. My mind raced, plotting out every possible path to take, weighing the risks and rewards of each choice. What would be the most likely way to get her back safely?