Ian placed a piece of duct tape over Miranda’s lips and then injected a syringe into the side of her neck. Her body instantly went limp. “Take her,” he told the valet, who then dragged her out the back entrance of The Candy Shop where a black stretch limousine was waiting. When the back door opened, he shoved her inside.
“You know where to take her?” The valet asked.
“Oh, yeah.” The man in the backseat uttered sadistically, running his fingertips up the inside of her thigh. “I know exactly where to take her.”
Shutting the door, the valet watched as the limousine sped off. “You’re one sick son of a bitch,” he mumbled under his breath.