Isabella: His Unseen Guardian

The biting cold of the concrete floor was the first thing I registered, followed by the dull throb of pain marking every inch of my beaten body.

I' d just refused to sign off on their crooked building plans, and for that defiance, the syndicate thugs left me for dead, my career shattered and my body broken.

As consciousness flickered, the memory of Chloe's voice – my fiancée' s voice – on the kidnapper's line pierced through me: "A million? You must be joking… Do what you have to do." Her casual dismissal was a deeper wound than any physical blow.