Ivy’s POV

The room was dim, the air thick with a musty scent that clung to the damp walls. My wrists ached from the tight restraints, the rope digging into my skin, leaving behind raw, irritated flesh.

My legs were stiff, my muscles screaming from hours, maybe days, of captivity. I had lost track of time in this miserable excuse for a prison.

Then, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed down the hallway, steady and deliberate. My breath hitched. I knew who it was before she even stepped into the room.

Taylor.

She waltzed in, her expression smug, her eyes gleaming with amusement as she took in the sight of...