It rang three times before Adrian answered.

“Where is she?” Adrian’s voice was ragged, coming through the speaker.

Salvatore leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands.

“She is sitting right in front of me, Adrian,” Salvatore said.

“If you touch her, I swear to God—”

“Save your threats,” Salvatore interrupted, his voice dropping to a low whisper.

“You are in no position to bargain with me.”

I tried to speak, to tell Adrian I was okay, but the guard quickly clamped a hand over my mouth again.

The metallic taste of his leather glove made me gag.

“Here is the arrangement,” Salvatore said, his eyes fixed on me.

“You will return to Chicago tonight.”

“You will take your place as the rightful heir to the Vale family.”

“And you will marry Camille next month, cementing the alliance with the Hart family.”

There was a long, suffocating silence on the other end of the line.

I could hear Adrian’s heavy, ragged breathing through the speaker.

“And if I refuse?” Adrian asked, his voice deadly quiet.

Salvatore looked up at Camille, then back at the phone.