Chapter 5

Hazel pushed open the heavy wooden door of the second-floor guest room.

She stumbled into the attached bathroom and shoved her hand under the faucet. She cranked the cold water on full blast.

The freezing water hit her burned skin, offering a tiny fraction of relief, but her hands were still shaking violently. She looked at her pale, exhausted reflection in the mirror. She felt entirely trapped.

Soft footsteps sounded behind her.

Hazel spun around. Niamh stood in the bathroom doorway, holding a glass of water and a small white pill.

"Madam sent this," Niamh said, her lips curled into a nasty smile. "For the pain."

Hazel backed up against the sink. "I don't want anything from her. Get out."

Niamh's smile vanished. She lunged forward with terrifying speed.

Before Hazel could scream, Niamh grabbed her jaw with a bruising grip, squeezing her cheeks together so her mouth popped open.

Niamh shoved the pill deep into the back of Hazel's throat and clamped her hand over Hazel's mouth and nose.

Hazel thrashed wildly. Her elbow hit the glass of water, sending it crashing to the tile floor where it shattered into a hundred pieces.

Her lungs burned for air. Her body's natural reflex betrayed her, and she swallowed.

Niamh immediately let go.

Hazel gagged, coughing violently, trying to spit it back up, but it was gone.

Niamh stepped back over the broken glass, walked out of the room, and pulled the heavy door shut.

The deadbolt clicked loudly from the outside.

Hazel rushed to the door and grabbed the brass handle. She twisted it frantically. Locked.

She pounded her fists against the solid wood. "Let me out! Help!"

Less than five minutes later, the room started to spin.

A heavy, suffocating wave of dizziness crashed over her brain. Her legs turned to jelly. She slid down the door, her knees hitting the floor hard.

This wasn't a painkiller. The realization gripped her heart with icy terror.

Her vision blurred. The edges of the room darkened. She crawled toward her duffel bag on the bed, her fingers numb and clumsy, desperate to reach her phone.

The lock on the door clicked open.

The door pushed open a few inches. The dim light from the hallway spilled over the carpet.

A massive, heavy figure squeezed into the room.

Rudy Petrov stood there, his face flushed, a sickeningly eager smile stretching across his fat cheeks. He reached behind him and locked the door again.

Hazel's stomach violently heaved. She tried to push herself backward, away from him, but her arms collapsed under her own weight.

Rudy shrugged off his expensive suit jacket and let it drop to the floor. He started loosening his silk tie as he walked toward her.

"Mildred said you needed some company," Rudy panted, his eyes raking over her helpless body.

He dropped to his knees beside her. His thick, rough fingers grabbed her chin.

Hazel turned her head violently, her teeth snapping out. She bit down as hard as she could on his thick thumb.

The metallic taste of blood flooded her mouth.

Rudy screamed in pain. He ripped his hand away and swung his other arm.

His heavy palm cracked across Hazel's face.

The force of the slap threw her head back. Her vision exploded into white stars. A warm trickle of blood ran down from the corner of her lips.

Rudy grabbed the collar of her dress, preparing to rip it.

Suddenly, a monstrous, deafening roar tore through the night outside.

It sounded like a jet engine exploding. The heavy glass windows of the guest room vibrated violently in their frames.

Rudy froze, looking toward the window in panic.

Down in the driveway, a pitch-black Maybach had just slammed through the massive wrought-iron gates of the estate at eighty miles an hour.

Sparks showered into the night air as the metal gates ripped off their hinges.

The heavy car drifted aggressively across the gravel, the tires screaming, before slamming to a halt right at the base of the front steps.

The driver's side door was kicked open.

Brennan stepped out into the rain. He wore a tailored black suit, but the aura around him was pure, unadulterated violence.

Three Cook security guards rushed him.

Brennan didn't even break his stride. Four massive men in tactical gear poured out of the trailing SUV and slammed the guards face-first into the gravel.

Brennan walked up the stone steps and kicked the solid oak front doors.

The doors burst open with a sound like a bomb going off.

Mildred and the rest of the family ran out of the dining room, freezing in absolute terror at the sight of the man standing in their foyer.

"Who do you think you are?!" Mildred shrieked, her voice trembling.

Brennan ignored her completely. His head tilted slightly. His sharp ears caught the faint sound of a struggle coming from the second floor.

His eyes turned black.

He took the spiral stairs three at a time, his heavy footsteps sounding like a countdown to an execution.

Inside the room, Rudy scrambled to his feet, terrified by the approaching footsteps. He tripped over his own discarded jacket and fell to his knees.

The heavy, solid wood door of the guest room didn't just open.

Splinters of wood rained across the carpet as Brennan didn't hesitate. He planted his feet firmly against the hallway runner, gathering every ounce of kinetic energy in his broad frame. He threw his full body weight against the heavy wood. The impact vibrated up his shoulder. The cheap metal of the deadbolt splintered with a deafening crack, tearing away from the doorframe, and the door burst open, slamming violently against the inner wall.