The underground bunker was silent, illuminated only by the warm amber recessed sconces along the limestone walls. A king-sized bed dressed in dark silk sat in the center of the room, flanked by communication monitors and an antique mahogany bar. Lorenzo carried Isla to the adjoining bathroom, turning on the gold taps of the marble soaking tub. He knelt before her, gently peeling away her blood-splattered silk dress. His large,…
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