Emilia's POV
The air is heavy with tension, each stride down the dimly lighted passageway sending a wave of anxiety down my spine. I keep my eyes on Jared's back, every instinct screaming at me to be cautious. He professes to be here to assist, but trust is a fragile thing—easily damaged, virtually hard to recover. I tighten my grasp on the weapon in my palm, the cool metal anchoring me.
"Where exactly are you taking us?" I demand, my voice quiet but filled with steel.
Jared glances over his shoulder, his expression inscrutable. "Somewhere safe. We don't have time to waste."
"Safe?" Vincent scoffs, maintaining a few strides behind Jared, his moves deliberate. "Forgive me if I find that hard to believe."
I can sense Enzo's presence alongside me, a solid wall of heat and power. His mouth is tense, gaze never leaving Jared. "One wrong move," he mutters, barely loud enough for me to hear. "And it's over."
"I know," I say, my voice firm. "I'm ready."
