His Untamed Prey: The Reborn Heiress

Lin kicked the rusted iron door open. Her tactical boots kicked up a thick cloud of yellow dust.

Three bullets grazed her Kevlar vest. She didn't blink. She hit the concrete floor, executing a flawless combat roll that tucked her body behind a crumbling concrete pillar.

She pulled the Glock from the drop-leg holster on her right thigh. Her breathing was slow, measured, and entirely under her control. She listened to the heavy footsteps echoing in the corridor outside.

She leaned out from cover. Her finger squeezed the trigger three times in rapid succession. Three mercenaries dropped to the floor, blood pooling beneath their heads.

The earpiece crackled. Mitch's heavy breathing filled her ear. He was her second-in-command, the only man she trusted to watch her back in this hellhole. He reported that the extraction helicopter was in position on the roof.

Lin stayed low. She moved through the bullet-riddled hallway, her eyes scanning every shadow. She headed straight for the stairwell leading to the helipad.

A massive man lunged from the darkness of the landing. He swung a military-grade machete directly at her face.

Lin sidestepped. She raised her left forearm to block his wrist. Her right hand drew her combat knife and drove it upward, burying the blade deep into his carotid artery.

Hot blood sprayed across her tactical goggles. Her expression remained completely blank. She pulled the knife out with a sickening squelch and stepped over his twitching body.

She pushed open the heavy roof door. The gale-force winds and the deafening roar of the helicopter blades slammed into her.

Mitch stood by the open cabin door. He reached out his right hand, encased in a black tactical glove, offering to pull her up.

Lin reached out. She gripped his hand and used the momentum to vault onto the helicopter's metal skid. The tight muscles in her shoulders finally relaxed a fraction. The mission was over.

In the exact second their hands locked, a dark, vicious light flashed in Mitch's eyes.

Mitch twisted his left wrist. A silver syringe, hidden perfectly inside his sleeve, plunged brutally into the side of Lin's neck.

The high-pressure valve clicked. A glowing blue neurotoxin shot directly into her jugular vein.

Lin's pupils shrank to pinpricks. Her heart felt like a giant, invisible hand had crushed it.

She shoved Mitch away. She stumbled backward, her spine slamming hard against the cold metal wall of the cabin.

Mitch drew his sidearm and aimed it at her chest. He stated coldly that this was the highest directive from Commander Leland Kingston. She was too dangerous to live.

Numbness spread through Lin's limbs. Black spots danced at the edges of her vision. The neurotoxin was designed to paralyze the central nervous system within three seconds.

Mitch's finger tightened on the trigger. He prepared to deliver the final kill shot.

Lin bit down hard on the tip of her tongue. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. She used the sharp spike of pain to