Nathan was still talking.
His voice rose and fell with practiced precision, sharp when he wanted to hurt, calm when he wanted control. Words like betrayal, loyalty, family were thrown around like weapons, each one meant to remind me how small my position was in his world.
I barely heard them anymore.
My wrists ached. My shoulders burned. The tape over my mouth felt tighter with every breath. I focused on staying conscious, on memorizing details, the way the light flickered faintly, the distance between Nathan and the door, the weight shift in his stance whenever he got irritated.
Nathan paced in front of me, frustration finally breaking through his composure.
The door burst open so hard it slammed into the wall, the sound echoing through the room like a gunshot. Shouts followed, multiple voices, heavy footsteps, the unmistakable noise of bodies colliding with furniture.
Nathan turned sharply.
I didn't need to see who it was.
I felt it.
"Emily."
