“I want to talk to my dad again,” Riley demanded.
River narrowed his eyes. “I don’t take orders from my hostage.”
Riley rolled her eyes. “Mr. Kidnapper, Sir. Could I please speak to my father? Pretty please with a cherry on top?” she asked again, her voice dripping with mockery.
River glared at her. “That mouth of yours will get you killed one day.”
“That’s nice. Will you allow me to talk to him or not?” she barked.
River looked thoughtful. But then, he handed her the phone. “Go ahead and call him.”
She snatched it from his grasp, her heart pounding against her ribcage like a caged bird desperate to break free. Steadying her shaking fingers, she punched in the number, each digit a lifeline to her father.
The line crackled to life. “Dad?” Her voice was steady, belying the desperation
