~Camila’s POV~

The thought kept popping into my head, and as it did, I felt myself becoming more helpless and agitated on the inside. I couldn’t help but wonder why Luke and I would be taken hostage in the first place. Is Luke the one who did this to me? No, Luke wouldn’t do this to me. No, he simply cannot; after all, he is my friend.

No, Camila; Luke dated Mark. What if they are in this together?

There was a voice inside my head that murmured something. “Shut the fuck up!” Shut the…” I had just started speaking when I was interrupted by the sound of someone groaning. “Luke…Luke is that you….”

“The fuck, Camila, I can’t even be kidnapped in peace,” he groaned again.

“What? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Hey, you just found out you’re pregnant, and you know that cussing isn’t healthy. There is a baby.” I feel like slapping him right now.

“Where are we?” I asked.

“I should ask you that considering I just woke up and my head is spinning,” he laughed, “do we call for help?” I realize he is panicking, which explains everything.

“Well, I don’t know. When I opened my eyes, I found myself here, locked inside this place. I have no idea how I got here. I am not even sure if this is a room or what.”

“The damn food! It’s

The baby, my baby.

for us to tell what it was that we ate. What if I don’t get to meet my baby and no

a pussy. You are

he is in a state of panic.

you fucking forget who your husband is? Your husband is Christopher freaking Grayston. No one dares him, and he lives to tell the story. He will find us before whoever did this can get away with it.” Then a loud

are so damn right

was Chris. My husband found me. My husband tracked me

came on, and he approached us. “What on earth were you thinking, Camille? What would have happened if my man hadn’t been following you guys?” He turned and said, “And you.” He barked at Luke, pointing his index

this to us?” I

very next time you try

to throw us in

took a breather. “Forget it,” he said, carrying me in bridal style. Luke trailed

is going on, but perhaps I should just stop trying to figure it out and give Chris space to handle things

~Christopher’s POV~

on the bed, rubbing my face with the palms of my hands. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead as I shuddered on the bed. The thought of Mark being

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