Lucas Foster grinned as he heard the commotion from the balcony.

A woman’s voice was screaming, arguing with his men. He couldn’t see her face from up here, but he knew exactly who she was.

After all, he was the one who ordered his men to kidnap her.

Alicia Smith.

The idea of kidnapping her came to his mind a few days ago when he was staring at her picture on his phone.

“Damn you, Alicia,” he had muttered, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “Why can’t you see that I can make you ...