His eyes flickered briefly to Julian, but they quickly returned to April, lingering there for just a moment too long. The intent in his gaze was clear—there was no mistaking what he wanted.
"I'll give you 10 minutes to start. And if you fail to do so, I'll begin with what I have planned for you, and I promise you, it won't be pretty. No mercy. Not a single ounce."
The words hung in the air, sharp and heavy, as though they had the weight of a thousand threats behind them.
Julian's heart pounded in his chest, but he refused to show weakness, refusing to give Ross the satisfaction of seeing his fear.
He clenched his fists, but the unease still crawled through him like a creeping sickness.
"Fuck you! Just get this over with and take us back!" Julian spat, his voice trembling with restrained fury. His chest heaved, each breath feeling like it was being sucked out of him.
"We don't like playing games here. You should know that my family is rich and influential. They'll be looking for us. They'll comb the entire city. And when they do, you won't be able to hide from them. You'll regret every second of this."
Ross simply raised an eyebrow at Julian's outburst. His smile remained, but it was a faint curve of amusement, as though he found the threat laughable.
He didn't even bother to look up from his glass as he took another sip of wine, clearly uninterested in what Julian had said.
"Suit yourself, then," he replied, his voice cool and indifferent. He made no further comment and returned to his relaxed position on the bed, as if Julian's words had not affected him in the slightest.
The tension in the room only deepened. The masked men remained silent, standing like shadows in the corners, their eyes hidden behind their masks, giving nothing away.
No one moved, no one spoke, and the minutes crawled by like an endless torture. The food, still steaming and untouched, seemed to mock them.
Every second that passed felt like it was pulling them deeper into this nightmare. Time itself seemed to slow, as if the room had frozen around them.
Ten minutes dragged on, each one feeling longer than the last. Julian's stomach twisted with hunger, but his pride refused to allow him to touch the food.
April's hand tightened around his, but she didn't speak. They both knew the situation was escalating, but neither of them knew what they could do to stop it.
They were powerless, trapped in a room with a man who had no regard for them, a man who had everything in his control.
Finally, the silence was broken.
"Time's up," Ross said, his voice soft, almost regretful, as he set his wine glass down on the nightstand. He stood from the bed with deliberate slowness, his movements fluid and confident.
There was no more pretense, no more small talk. His eyes locked onto April, and the smile that played on his lips was dark and knowing.
"Come here, April. You should know why I invited you here tonight."
Julian's breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding in his chest. The weight of Ross's words hung in the air like a death sentence.
There was no mistaking what he wanted. And it wasn't just the food that was being served to them.
Ross's intentions were clear now—there was no more subtlety, no more games. He was going to take what he wanted, and they had no choice but to comply.
April didn't move at first, her body frozen in place. But she couldn't hide the fear in her eyes, the uncertainty, the realization that they were completely out of their depth.
Julian's instincts screamed at him to do something, anything to stop what was about to happen, but his hands were tied, his options exhausted.
"Come on, April," Ross said again, his voice growing more insistent, and there was no hiding the menace beneath his calm tone.
He took a step toward her, and in that moment, Julian realized just how far gone they were. His heart sank.
This was the moment they had been dreading—the moment everything changed, when their worlds were torn apart by a man who had nothing to lose.
In the silence that followed, the only sound was the slow, deliberate shuffle of Ross's footsteps as he approached, his intentions unmistakable.
Ross stopped several steps away from his captives, his eyes fixed on them as they trembled, but tried to maintain the façade of bravery.
Julian's jaw clenched, and April's chest rose and fell with shallow breaths.
They both exchanged a quick, nervous glance, their eyes darting to the corner of the room where Brandon stood, massive and still as a statue.
The automatic rifle clutched tightly in Brandon's hands reminded them of the brutal reality they faced. Every step they took could be their last if they made the wrong move.
A single word from Ross or a twitch of Brandon's finger could end it all.
"What exactly do you want from me?" April's voice wavered slightly, though she already knew the answer. The air between them was thick with fear and anticipation, but she had to ask.
Maybe, just maybe, hearing it from his mouth would make it feel less real, less inevitable.
Ross's lips curled into a predatory grin, his cold eyes gleaming with malice. "Don't ask questions you already know the answer to, April. You've never been a dumb, slow girl. Not even once in your life."
He took a slow step forward, his eyes never leaving hers, his grin widening as he closed the distance between them. The air between them grew denser, as though charged with electricity.
Julian's chest tightened, his fists clenched, but he didn't move. He didn't dare.
Ross's gaze never wavered as he moved closer. April could feel his breath on her skin as he reached up, his fingers brushing against her face with an almost sickening tenderness.