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."
