The silence that followed Victoria's voice was long and heavy, sucking the oxygen straight out of the room. Alex stood frozen by the door, his heart beating rapidly. His grip tightened over the deadbolt. It was the only thing standing between Emily's safety and her getting captured again.
Behind him, Emily hid in the kitchen, her fingers curled so tightly around the rusted iron rod she'd scavenged from a pile of debris in the corner. It was a pathetic piece of scrap metal against the crushing weight of the Torredo empire, but it was all she had.
Alex took a steadying breath and turned the lock. The door groaned weakly on its hinges as it swung open.
Victoria stood alone in the hallway. Under the flickering, sickly fluorescent light of the corridor, she looked like a porcelain doll; beautiful but her eyes were void of emotions. Her hair was coming unpinned, a few stray blonde locks framing a face of terrifying composure.
