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Finally, we stopped, the tires screeching, and I was roughly dragged out of the back of the van I was thrown over soht of stairs In all the confusion, I tried to take note of the smells and sounds of my location in case I survived and was questioned by police I hoped I would survive Even that thought sent , so I shut it down I shut offto second guess or predict what they would do to me

When I was finally thron onto a sofa and e warehouse, the walls brick, the ceiling lined with ductwork, and the floors hardwood The place looked like it was used for storage, and there was plastic sheeting hanging, like the place was being renovated

A lanced up at him in fear

Sergei Romanov

I recognized him from news reports of his crime family and he'd been to Spencer's memorial service His beefy face was bearded and he wore his longish dark hair slicked back A large gold chain hung around his neck He wore a cream sweater and dark jeans, and looked to be in his forties with a touch of grey in his hair

"What a to do with you?"

His voice, rough-sound

ing, had a thick Russian accent

"What do you want?"

"I want Hunter That's what I want"

"He's in jail"

"Not anymore"

That made my heart rate increase "He was let out?"

I heard the man snicker

"So, ill I do with you? You're a pretty thing, and Hunter needs to be taught a lesson"