When Amara opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was Luca tired in his own boss's seat, and well, that doesn't look good. She thought. She tried to move, only to find her arms tied behind her back and her legs tied to her. She was on the hard, cold marble floor. Seeing the amounts of books covering the wall up to the ceiling and the large magnolia table taking up the Centre of the room This was Luca's office. The back of her head was throbbing; she had been ambushed and fell back to the ground. I have told him this was a bad idea. Why? This is the most obvious mistake!
"Look, she is coming back; hello, darling; should I make an introduction?" An annoying Russian accent and the light blue eyes come down to my level when I look into them.
"Oh," the bluish-faced goon touched my face with mocking remorse, "my guys gave you a really hard hit; I will tell them to be nice next time.
"Get your hand off me!" I groan at it; it hurts my whole head to even move my jaw.
