"I blacked out on every drive home with my brother-in-law and woke up bruised—unaware my husband was giving orders: 'She's unconscious? Good. Bring her to Vanessa, and don't leave marks this time.'"

Marcus stood in the doorway, blocking the exit. He was thirty-five, broader than Julian, with a heavy jaw and the callous eyes of a man who spent his life doing his younger brother’s dirty work. He was still wearing his dark jacket, holding a key ring in his right hand.

"How did you get in here?" I rasped, my pulse hammering in my ears.

"I never left," Marcus said smoothly, taking a slow, deliberate step into the room. He closed the heavy oak door behind him, turning the lock with a soft click. "Julian called me twenty minutes ago. He said you asked about Vanessa. He told me to wait downstairs in case you got curious."

"You're drugging me," I spat, my voice shaking with pure, unadulterated venom as I held up the glowing tablet screen. "You and Julian are drugging me and taking me to a research lab!"

Marcus glanced at the screen, then let out a low, humorless chuckle. He didn't look surprised. He didn't look ashamed. He pulled a silver vape from his pocket, taking a slow drag before exhaling a cloud of sweet-smelling vapor.

"You always were too smart for your own good, Sofia," Marcus murmured, taking another step toward the desk. "If you had just stayed a quiet, dutiful wife, Julian would have closed the trial next month. You would have had a mild case of 'early-onset neurological fatigue,' received a nice insurance payout, and spent the rest of your life living comfortably in this house."

"This is illegal!" I screamed, standing up behind the desk, backing toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. "It's human trafficking! It's medical assault!"

"In Texas?" Marcus smirked, reaching into his coat pocket. "Julian signed the consent forms as your husband and legal healthcare proxy. Vance Bioresearch operates under an offshore jurisdiction shell. By the time any local cop figures out what those files mean, the grant money will be sitting in a bank in Singapore, and you'll be committed to a private psychiatric ward in San Antonio for hallucinating."

He pulled a small, pre-filled glass syringe from his pocket, flicking the side with his thumb.

"Julian wants you back under before sunrise, Sofia," Marcus said, his tone dropping into a cold, deadpan register. "We have the final dosage test scheduled for four a.m."

I looked at the syringe, then at the heavy brass desk lamp sitting three inches from my right hand.

"Marcus," I whispered, forcing a terrified, trembling sob into my voice. "Please. I won't tell anyone. I'll pack my bags and leave for Dallas tonight. You can keep the money. Just let me go."

Marcus slowed his pace, a predatory smile touching his lips as he saw my tears. "Now that's the quiet little wife Julian married."

He reached out his broad hand to grab my wrist.

The second his fingers touched my skin, I dropped the frightened persona.