Mila woke up with a sharp gasp. Disoriented, she looked around. She couldn't understand where she was.
The ceiling above her was unfamiliar. The velvet, heavy curtains didn't match the color of those in her room. The bed beneath her was enormous, the mattress so soft it felt like sinking into clouds.
The bedroom was far more extravagant than her apartment. Everything around her looked expensive.
Her heart sank. 'This is not my room.'
She sat up abruptly, breathing hard as she looked around the room, studying the antique furniture.
Memories rushed back like a violent storm – the explosion, the gunfire, Dominic's cold, lethal eyes. She quickly pushed the blanket aside and got out of bed. The moment her feet touched the floor, dizziness hit her.
"Damn it," she muttered, holding her head. "The water – something was wrong with it."
