The Kidnapping of Roan Sinclair

by Ashlyn Drewek

I imagined the headline when someone finally found my corpse, shriveled and handcuffed to a bed. BANKER’S WORTHLESS SON, KIDNAPPED AND LEFT FOR DEAD — EVEN THE KIDNAPPERS DIDN’T WANT HIM. The funeral would be great. Mom would make sure of that. My disgusting remains would be laid to rest in the most expensive casket available, topped with an obnoxiously large headstone. I doubted Dad would even be there, unless Joyce managed to pencil it in his fucking schedule and disguise it as a business meeting.

“Make it hurt,”

The Wolf was off the leash and those motherfuckers had no idea what hell was coming for them.

“I kneel for no one,” I repeated, gazing up at Roan, “except the one I love.”

Was this really fucking happening right now? Not only were we both alive, miraculously, but Roan used our near-death experience to fucking network?!