The silence in the back of the Maybach was heavy, saturated with the image of the girl in the white dress. She had looked so fragile, so untainted by the shadows that now defined my every breath. Adrian sat beside me, his profile carved from the darkness of the city outside. He hadn't let go of my hand, but his thumb was no longer stroking my palm; it was pressed hard against my pulse, a silent demand for me to settle the storm inside.
"Who was she, Adrian?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper against the hum of the tires.
"A distraction," Adrian replied, his voice flat. "Leo is playing a game he doesn't have the stomach to finish. He thinks by finding a girl with your bone structure and a similar blood type, he can bait me. He wants to prove that I am replaceable. That *you* are replacea
