C75 THE CAPTIVE KYLIE
“As in, Kylie Vincenzo?” the man sneered, his smile as sharp as a knife.
I nodded, resisting the impulse to look away. There was no use denying who I was; they’d only use it against me. The man barked something in Russian, and the others erupted into coarse laughter, their eyes leering over me with an intensity that made my skin crawl
